You're Nobody 'Til Somebody Kills You (20 page)

As I crept down the hall toward the open door I passed several other doorways. I checked them quickly, hoping none of them would creak. Two closets, a bathroom, and a stairway heading down. I was tempted to go see if Danny was being held down there, but I decided to try to hear some of the conversation first. In fact, I could already hear some of it.

As soon as the voices became clear enough I stopped.

“In the hospital, still hasn’t woke up,” one voice said.

“Well, he better wake up,” a second said. “They’re not gonna like it if a homicide investigation gets started.”

“There’s already a homicide investigation, remember? Johnson?”

“Nobody cares about Johnson, but this guy got hit in Monroe’s house. That’s news.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the first man said.

Apparently there were only two men in the room. I wondered if one of them had a scar down the center of his forehead. I could hear, but I couldn’t see. For that I’d have to get even closer. Most of the room was out of sight. But getting closer would put me in a totally defenseless position if someone entered the hall from the other end.

“Where the hell is your partner?” the second man asked.

“Still at the hospital,” the first man said. “He’s keepin’ an eye out.”

“For what?”

“Whatever,” the first man said. “A chance to finish the guy, news that he died, whatever.”

“Do they know about that? Jesus, you’re gonna kill a guy in the hospital? You know, you freelancers kill me.”

“Yeah,” the first man said, “that could be arranged.”

“Very funny. Why don’t you go out and look at some of the girls? Let me get back to work.”

“I was just checking in for orders.”

I heard a chair creak, and then the sound of somebody walking. I turned to hotfoot it back up the hall, but at that moment the door at that end started to open. I was seconds from being discovered from both ends. Use my bathroom story, or duck behind one of those other doors?

I made up my mind quickly, opened a door and stepped in, closing it behind me as gently as I could.

I
T WAS DARK AND
I almost took a header down the stairs. I caught myself at the last second, then stood there quietly as the two men met in the hallway.

“Leavin’ already, Harris?”

“Gonna check out some of the girls.”

“You wanna go home with one just let me know,” the bouncer said. “I got a few of ‘em on a string.”

Harris said, “I’m sure the feds would be happy to know they got a string of whores bein’ run out of here.”

Both men laughed and kept going in their respective directions. I waited a few more moments, then opened the door to peer out. That was taking a chance, because I could only see one way, up the hall toward the club. I opened it a little more, stuck my head out further and looked at the office door, which the bouncer had closed behind him.

This was my chance to get out of there, but I hesitated and looked behind me. The light from the hall illuminated the basement stairs. If there was the slightest chance that Danny was being held down there, I had to take it.

I closed the door and stood there long enough for my eyes to adjust to the dark. Enough light came from beneath the door to allow me to see the stairs. I started down, taking my time since I had no idea how many steps there were.

I wondered what had happened to Otash. Had he been kicked out of the place? Was he waiting for me outside? Or was he still inside?

I kept going down the stairs one at a time, keeping my hand on the wall because there was no banister. The stairs creaked, but I didn’t think anyone upstairs could hear them.

Finally, I got to the bottom, wishing I had a flashlight. I looked around for a light switch. I didn’t find one.

I started swatting the air, looking for a pull string attached to a lightbulb. I found one and grabbed it.

I looked up the steps. From my vantage point I could not see the light under the door. I wondered if anyone on the other side could see my light.

I pulled down on the string, intending to snap the light on for a second or two, just to get a look around. As the bulb came on it bathed the room in yellow light. I always hated yellow bulbs, and this one was about forty watts. By the dim light I saw a wooden chair in the center of the room. There were some stains on the floor in front of and next to the chair. In the yellow light I couldn’t be sure, but I thought it was blood. Was it Danny’s blood? There wasn’t a lot of it, not as much as if someone had had their throat cut. But somebody had definitely been hurt.

I realized I’d left the light on too long, so I yanked on the string—and it snapped, leaving the light on. I dropped the string onto the floor, and tried to reach the small part that was still hanging from the light, but it was too high. I thought about using the chair to stand on, but the idea that it might have some of Danny’s blood on it kept me from doing it.

Instead, I began to look for a way out. I just hoped somebody would think they had left the light on.

I found a door in another part of the basement. It was a loading double door, and I hoped it wasn’t locked from the outside. It wasn’t. I was able to open one side, go up the stairs, and then close the door without dropping it. The metal would have rang out loud and clear.

I looked around quickly. I was behind the building. I worked my way around to the front and found Otash sitting in his car. When I knocked on the window he just about jumped out of his skin.

I opened the passenger door. “Did that guy come out?”

“Yeah. I would have followed him, but I was worried about you,” he explained. “I did get his plate number, though.”

“Good. Let’s get out of here. I’ll meet you back at the hospital.”

“What the hell happened—”

“Later,” I said, getting out of his car. “The hospital.”

“But why?” he asked. “Why don’t we go back to Miss Monroe’s, or somewhere—”

“Otash!”

“What?”

“The hospital!”

“Okay,” he said, “okay, the hospital.”

He started his engine and backed up. I ran to my Caddy, got in, fired her up and got out of there.

Danny had been in that basement. I felt it in my bones. But at that moment I was intent on getting back to the hospital to make sure Jerry was all right.

W
HEN WE GOT TO THE HOSPITAL
parking lot I got out of the Caddy and ran to Otash’s car.

“Come on, we’ve got to get inside.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you on the way!”

While we ran into the hospital I tried to tell him what I found in the basement. He wasn’t following me, so I said, “Somebody’s going to make another try at Jerry.”

We ran past the front desk, the nurse shouting after us. Jerry was on the second floor. Instead of waiting for the elevator I took the stairs adjacent to them. When we got to the second floor I led the way to Jerry’s room. Nobody was on duty in front of it.

“There’s no cop on the door!” I shouted.

I drew Jerry’s gun and ran into his room. There was a cop in uniform standing next to his bed, looking down at him. I started for him with Jerry’s gun, but Otash grabbed me from behind and pulled my gun hand behind my back as the policeman turned to look at us.

“Can I help you gents?” he asked.

“Yes, Officer,” Otash said, “I’m Fred Otash and this is Eddie Gianelli.”

“Yes, sir,” the cop said, turning to face us. His hands were empty. The part of his forehead I could see beneath his cap brim was smooth and unscarred. “They told me you were allowed in the room. Is something wrong?”

“We heard something tonight that led us to believe this man is in danger.”

“Here? In the hospital?”

“Yes, sir,” Otash said. “I suggest you call for backup.”

“I’ll have to check that with my watch commander, sir.”

“That’s okay, son,” Otash said, “and you better check with Detective Stanze, as well.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the cop left the room, I turned so the gun was still behind me. When he was gone I returned the gun to the back of my belt.

Otash turned on me and said, “I told you about that gun! You almost pointed it at a cop!”

“I know, I’m sorry,” I said. “And thanks for stopping me.”

“We’ll have to stay here while he’s checking on backup,” Otash said.

“I wonder why he was in here and not out in the hall?” I said.

“There was no scar on his forehead,” Otash said. “But still …”

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I want to see where he went.”

I stayed at Jerry’s bedside until Otash returned. During that time the big guy didn’t move or make a sound. I wasn’t used to Jerry being so silent and still. It was unsettling.

When Otash came back in he said, “The cop’s on the level. He radioed for backup and then used the phone to call Stanze.”

“Still, what was he doin’ in here?” I asked.

“When Stanze gets here,” Otash said, “ask him to ask the cop. Meanwhile”—he lowered his voice—”why don’t you go out to your car and stash that gun before the room is crawling with cops.”

“That’s a good idea.”

When I left, Otash was at Jerry’s bedside while the cop had returned to the door.

Stanze made good time, arrived just before the extra officers did.

“What’s going on, Eddie?” he demanded.

“I have information that someone might try for Jerry again while he’s in the hospital.”

“And where did you get this information?”

“I’d rather not say, but I’m sure what I heard was legit.”

“So you’re asking me to act on information you overheard somewhere?”

“That’s exactly what I’m askin’ you to do.”

Stanze shook his head slowly. “You’re pushing it, Eddie.”

“I haven’t even started,” I said.

I told him about finding the cop in Jerry’s room, and wondering what he was doing there.

“I’ll ask him,” he said, “but I’ve known Officer Chester for five years. He’s legit.”

“Okay,” I said, “if you vouch for him, that’s okay with me.”

Stanze hesitated, then said, “I’ll ask him anyway.”

S
TANZE HAD A HALF
a dozen officers search the hospital for a man with a scar on his forehead. Then he sat me down and convinced me to tell him what I had done. I told him about the matchbook cover, the strip club, the conversation I had heard in the back office, and what I’d seen in the basement.

“You know, your PI should’ve told you to come to me with the matchbook,” Stanze said. “We might have been able to do something. As of now I can’t get a warrant to go into that strip club. I have no probable cause.”

“Isn’t what I’m tellin’ you probable cause?” I asked.

“No, it’s not enough to move on,” Stanze told me. “All I can do is watch the strip club.”

“Well, if Danny was there and they moved him, what are the chances they’ll bring him back?”

“Probably slim.”

“So then what good does it do for you to watch the place?”

“It’s all you’ve left me,” Stanze said. “I’ll check out who owns it, and who runs it, but beyond that …”

“What about talkin’ to the maid?”

“I can do that, but for all we know she gave Otash a random matchbook and a line of crap for his twenty bucks.”

“Not after what I heard.”

Stanze gritted his teeth and whatever he was thinking about saying to me never made it past his lips. He stopped himself, blew out a frustrated sigh and finally said, “I’m going to check with my officers.”

We were in the hall outside Jerry’s room. When he left I went back in. Otash gave me a look.

“He can’t do anything,” I said.

“No probable cause,” Otash said, nodding.

“You knew that?”

“Of course.”

“Then why did we go into that joint? Why didn’t we just call Stanze to begin with?”

“Because,” Otash said, “he would’ve said the same thing. He never would’ve gone inside. By the way, that was a big chance you took. I was trying to send you a message to stay put.”

“I was never very good at reading sign language, or body language,” I said. “I acted by instinct.”

“Impulse, is more like it.”

“Whatever,” I said, “now we’ve got some information we can’t do anything about.”

“I’m going to check deeper into the Lavender Club’s ownership.”

“That’s what Stanze said he was going to do.”

“Good, the more the merrier,” he said. “You going to stay here?”

“For now, yes.”

“There’s not much we can do at this time of night,” he said. “I’m going to go home and get some shut-eye, get into my office early and start running down the club’s owners.”

“If you don’t find me here, I’ll be at the guesthouse.”

“Okay,” Otash said. He lowered his voice and put his hand on my arm. “Leave that gun where it is.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Otash left and I sat with Jerry for a while. Not only were Otash and Stanze running down the ownership of the club, but so was Jack Entratter. I had a feeling that Jack’s contacts might be able to go deeper than the other two. I was going to call him first thing in the morning.

I sat in a chair next to Jerry’s bed and dozed off.

I woke up to find Stanze shaking me.

“We haven’t found anybody in the building matching that description,” he said, “although the only thing you gave us is a scar on some guy’s forehead.”

“It’s supposed to be very noticeable,” I said, stretching.

“I’m leaving three officers here,” he said. “One downstairs, one out by the desk on this floor and one in front of the door.”

“I’m gonna stay all night, too.”

“I’ll tell them at the nurse’s station, so they don’t try to kick you out.”

“Good, thanks.”

“I’ll give you a call tomorrow, Eddie,” Detective Stanze said. “Meanwhile, try not to do anything else stupid, huh?”

“I’ll give it my best shot.”

Stanze stared at me for a long minute. “Stand up,” he said.

“What for?”

“I want to see if you’re doing something stupid right now … like carrying a piece.”

“I don’t have a gun on me, Detective,” I said.

“Humor me. Stand up.”