You Make Me Feel So Dead Read online

  ‘That’s great,’ Frank said. ‘He’s a growin’ boy, needs his sleep.’

  ‘He’s a good kid,’ I said.

  ‘That he is,’ Frank said. ‘I talked to Jack, though. He said you might be havin’ some other problems? Somethin’ that might take you away from the, uh, task at hand?’

  I looked at Jerry.

  ‘Jerry didn’t tell me a thing,’ Frank said, quickly. ‘In fact, Jack told me hardly anything. I think they were leavin’ that up to you, Pally.’

  I sighed, knowing I was going to have to tell the story – again.

  ‘Have a seat, Frank …’

  ‘I know Bardini,’ Frank said.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘you’ve met him a few times.’

  ‘He’s no killer. At least, not in this sense.’

  ‘I agree.’

  ‘So how are you gonna help him and stay on Elvis?’ Frank asked.

  ‘I’ve done what I can for Danny, Frank,’ I said. ‘My focus is on Elvis.’

  ‘Really?’ Frank looked confused. ‘I thought you guys were friends. Partners, almost. What was it Bogart said about partners?’

  ‘That’s what I said,’ Jerry commented. ‘The Maltese Falcon.’

  ‘I love that movie,’ Frank said.

  ‘Me, too,’ Jerry agreed.

  ‘Hey, guys,’ I said, ‘I’m not a private dick. I’m not Danny’s partner. And if he needs me, he’ll call me.’

  ‘Well,’ Frank said, putting his empty Martini glass on the bar and getting to his feet, ‘if you need any help with either thing, give me a call. In fact, Dino’ll be here tomorrow. You helped us plenty of times. I know he’d want to help your buddy, too.’

  ‘Thanks, Frank,’ I said. ‘I appreciate that.’

  Frank waved and left.

  ‘Wow,’ Jerry said, ‘Mr S and Dino workin’ with you on a murder case!’

  ‘I’m not working on a murder case, Jerry!’ I said.

  ‘No, I know, I know,’ he said, ‘but you never know … ya know?’

  Man, I would replay that comment later!

  I decided to drive home and sleep in my own bed. I told Jerry I’d catch up with him in the morning, and that he should have breakfast without me.

  When the phone rang I groped for it while trying to steal a look at the clock. Seven a.m. I’d been in bed exactly three hours.

  ‘Yeah, wha—’

  ‘Eddie? Eddie, it’s Penny.’ Her voice sounded panicked. ‘They did it again, Eddie. They just came for Danny and arrested him. And this time they say they have proof!’

  THIRTY-FIVE

  I ran into Kaminsky on the front steps of the station, the same briefcase tucked under his arm. Penny said she would call him after we hung up. I wondered why she didn’t call him first.

  ‘What’s going on, Mr Kaminsky?’ I asked.

  ‘I suspect I know what you know, Bubula,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to get inside to find out more. You want in?’

  ‘How are you going to get me in?’ I asked.

  ‘From this point on,’ he said, ‘you’re my investigator.’ He took a dollar from his pocket and handed it to me.

  ‘OK,’ I said, pocketing the bill, ‘boss.’

  We went inside together.

  Hargrove was incensed.

  ‘What do you mean he’s your investigator?’ he demanded. ‘That’s bullshit!’

  ‘He’s working for me. Getting his time in so he can get his PI ticket,’ Kaminsky said.

  ‘You paid?’ Hargrove demanded of me.

  The one dollar bill was burning a hole in my pocket as I said, ‘I am.’

  Hargrove looked over at Martin and said, ‘OK, let ’em in.’

  Martin took us down the hall from the bull pen to the interview rooms.

  ‘Detective, would you like to tell me why you’ve dragged my client back in here less than twenty-four hours after you cut him loose?’ Kaminsky asked.

  ‘New evidence,’ Martin said.

  ‘What new evidence?’

  We stopped in front of the door to the same interview room as before and Martin turned to face us.

  ‘Hargrove would have my ass if he knew I told you,’ he said.

  ‘Then why tell us?’ I asked.

  ‘Maybe because he’s a prick,’ he said. ‘We got the ballistics report back. The bullet in the victim matches your boy’s gun. You better convince him to come clean.’ He opened the door. ‘Go ahead.’

  We went into the room, found Danny sitting at the same table. He wasn’t quite as disheveled as last time. In fact, he’d had a good night’s sleep and a shower, but they must have pulled him out of bed because he looked as if he had dressed in a hurry.

  ‘Well,’ he said, ‘my team, prompt for a change. Kaminsky, get me out of here.’

  ‘Might not be as easy as last time, boychik,’ Kaminsky said.

  ‘Why not?’

  Kaminsky sat across from Danny. I stood behind him.

  ‘How’d you get Eddie in here?’

  ‘He’s Kaminsky’s paid investigator.’

  ‘Is that right?’ Danny asked. ‘Eddie, be careful, you might not think that’s a promotion.’

  ‘Danny,’ I said, ‘listen to Kaminsky.’

  ‘What’s it all about, Kaminsky?’ Danny said. ‘Why am I back here?’

  ‘They got their ballistics report back on the bullet that killed Reynolds,’ Kaminsky said.

  Danny stiffened. ‘And?’

  ‘It matches your gun, Danny,’ the lawyer said. ‘You want to explain that one to me?’

  Danny sat back in his chair. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I don’t know,’ Danny said. ‘I don’t know how that’s possible. I didn’t kill him.’

  ‘Danny—’

  ‘Don’t, Kaminsky,’ Danny said. ‘I know what you’re gonna say. You can’t help me if I don’t tell you the truth.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Well, I’m tellin’ you the goddamned truth,’ Danny said. ‘I didn’t kill Reynolds with my gun or any other gun. You’ve got to find out what the hell is going on.’

  Kaminsky digested that and then said, ‘I’ll have to get myself a real investigator since you’re my primary and you’re in here.’

  ‘You don’t need anybody else,’ Danny said. ‘You’ve got Eddie.’

  ‘Eddie?’ Kaminsky asked. ‘Come on, Danny, I just gave him a dollar to get him in here. I need a real detective.’

  ‘Eddie’s as good as anybody,’ Danny said. ‘He’s a natural. Hell, he’s learned from me.’

  ‘Danny,’ I said, ‘listen to Kaminsky. I’m not a detective.’

  ‘You’ve got everything it takes, Eddie,’ he said, ‘and you care about me. And with Jerry along, you guys make a great detective. I want you to clear me.’

  I had butterflies in my stomach as I said, ‘Jesus, buddy, you’re puttin’ your life in my hands.’

  ‘Believe me when I say, there’s nobody whose hands I’d rather have my life in than Eddie G.’s.’ He looked at his lawyer. ‘Kaminsky, make it happen.’

  ‘You’re killin’ me, boychik,’ Kaminsky said. He looked over his shoulder at me. ‘You up to this?’

  In front of Danny I couldn’t say anything but: ‘You bet I am.’

  Danny would be arraigned the next morning, and it would be up to a judge to set bail – if he set bail. If not, then Danny would be behind bars until Kaminsky, Jerry and I could get him out.

  On the street in front of the station Kaminsky said, ‘Get in your car and follow me.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘My office,’ he said. ‘we’ve got to talk strategy. You got the time?’

  ‘Of course I’ve got the time.’

  ‘I hope so,’ he said. ‘I hope you can give this all your attention, because it’s gonna need it.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Kaminsky,’ I said, ‘I won’t let Danny down.’

  ‘Never mind Danny, boychik,’ he said, ‘don’t even think
about letting Kaminsky down.’

  THIRTY-SIX

  I got out of my car and looked at the building we stood in front of.

  ‘This is your office?’ I asked.

  ‘My office is actually across the street,’ he said, nodding his head toward an old four-story office building that had seen better days, ‘but I spend most of my time here at Grabstein’s Deli. And Kaminsky hasn’t had breakfast yet. Have you?’

  ‘No,’ I said, realizing how hungry I was.

  ‘OK,’ he said, ‘get ready for the best bagels and lox in Vegas.’

  We went inside the deli and my mouth started to water because of all the wonderful smells. He was greeted like a long lost relative. Kaminsky led me to an orange booth, slid in and set his briefcase down next to him. I got in across from him.

  ‘The usual, Manny,’ he yelled, ‘for Kaminsky and his friend.’

  ‘Comin’ up, Kaminsky.’

  Manny was the cook – eighty if he was a day – and the plates were brought to the table by a woman almost as old. I assumed they were a couple.

  There were bagels, lox, eggs (actually a pastrami omelet) and coffee.

  ‘I have a friend who’s going to be real mad when he hears about this,’ I said.

  ‘Someone Kaminsky will meet?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  ‘Well, then we’ll bring him here another time,’ Kaminsky said. ‘Dig in.’

  Growing up in Brooklyn I was familiar with bagels and lox. Although I lived in an Italian neighborhood, you only had to walk a block or two to get to a Jewish deli. I loved the hot dogs and knishes they sold, but I never developed a taste for lox, which is actually a piece of salmon filet. For breakfast? No thanks.

  I took a heaped helping of the pastrami omelet and slathered a bagel with butter. While I was doing that the waitress came back with a bowl of home fries. Thank you, Lord. I took a couple of spoonfuls.

  ‘No lox?’ Kaminsky asked.

  ‘No lox.’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ he said. ‘More for Kaminsky.’

  As we ate he said, ‘I’m going to want to meet your whole team.’

  ‘My team?’

  ‘The people you’ll be bringing in on this case,’ Kaminsky said.

  ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘well …’

  ‘You do have somebody in mind, don’t you?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘In fact, you’d like him. His name is Jerry Epstein and he’s from Brooklyn.’

  ‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘A nice Jewish boy from, Brooklyn. The fella you said would be mad about you eating here?’

  ‘Without him, yeah,’ I said. ‘He likes his food.’

  ‘Kaminsky will see that he gets to eat here,’ the lawyer said. ‘Anybody else?’

  ‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘I can use Penny—’

  ‘Danny’s Penny? Nice girl. Kaminsky likes her.’

  ‘And I’ve got a few other people I can press into service,’ I said.

  He took a pad of paper from his briefcase, opened it and grabbed a pen.

  ‘What are their names?’

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin … and Elvis Presley.’

  ‘Frank Sin—’ He stopped writing and looked up at me. ‘What’s the joke?’

  ‘They’re friends of mine,’ I said, ‘and they’ll all help.’

  ‘These are … friends of yours?’

  ‘Yep.’

  He leaned forward.

  ‘Are you talking about having your show business friends bring pressure to bear on the Las Vegas Police Department? Because Kaminsky doesn’t need that kind of trouble. I could be disbarred.’

  ‘No, no,’ I said. ‘They’ve just offered to help if I needed them.’

  He sat back, picked up a piece of lox and popped it into his mouth.

  ‘Anything else?’ the waitress asked.

  ‘A little glass of Manischewitz, Sima,’ Kaminsky said.

  ‘What? This early in the morning. Kaminsky, are you Dafuk barosh?’

  ‘I need it,’ Kaminsky said.

  ‘All right. It’s your funeral.’

  She left the table to get his wine.

  ‘What was that phrase she said?’

  ‘Dafuk barosh?’ he repeated. ‘Oh, that’s “fucked in the head”.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘And while we’re at it … what’s schmaltz?’

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Kaminsky drilled me on what he would need: a witness who saw someone else around the house at the time of the murder, whoever that other person was. Somebody else who wanted Reynolds dead. Somebody who wanted to frame Danny for murder. A gun.

  ‘A gun?’

  ‘If Danny’s telling the truth and he didn’t kill Reynolds, then somebody shot him.’

  ‘With Danny’s gun?’

  ‘With a gun, certainly,’ Kaminsky said.

  ‘But the cops insist the bullet came from Danny’s gun.’

  ‘It’s up to you to find out how that can be,’ Kaminsky said. ‘Or, more importantly, how it can’t be. Nu?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘nu.’

  After breakfast we stopped briefly outside the deli.

  ‘I’ll hear from you soon?’ he said.

  ‘Very soon,’ I said. ‘And I’d like to know how the arraignment goes.’

  ‘I have your number,’ he said, patting his briefcase.

  I had the feeling that the briefcase and deli were his real office, and that he kept the space in the building across the street as a mailing address.

  ‘Eddie,’ he said, ‘Kaminsky is counting on you.’

  ‘I know,’ I said, ‘I know. Kaminsky and Danny are counting on me. I get it.’

  He put his hand on my shoulder.

  ‘If this gets to be too much for you, call me,’ he said. ‘Understand?’

  ‘I understand, Kaminsky.’

  He patted my shoulder and then withdrew his hand.

  ‘With such people as you have on your team,’ he asked, waving his hand, ‘how can we lose?’

  ‘Right,’ I said, ‘how can we lose?’

  I drove to the Sands. If I was going to save Danny’s ass I had to put my ‘team’ together. I couldn’t believe Danny was putting his life in my hands, but in truth, it had been in my hands before and he’d come out all right. So I had to stop doubting myself and get the job done.

  When I got to the Sands I called Jerry first.

  ‘Just checking to see if you were there,’ I said. ‘I’m comin’ up.’

  ‘Come ahead, Mr G.’

  I took the elevator to Jerry’s floor. He answered the door wearing one of his suits. Jerry always wore a suit, unless we were doing something at night or illegal … or both.

  ‘What’s up, Mr G.?’

  ‘Danny’s been arrested again,’ I said. ‘This time they’ve got evidence.’

  ‘What kinda evidence?’

  ‘Ballistics,’ I said. ‘They claim the bullet that killed Reynolds came from Danny’s gun.’

  ‘What does Danny say?’

  ‘He claims that’s impossible.’

  ‘So the lawyer, what’s his name …?’

  ‘Kaminsky.’

  ‘Yeah, Kaminsky, he’s got to prove that.’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘his investigator has to prove it.’

  ‘And who’s that?’

  ‘You and me.’

  ‘We gettin’ paid?’

  I took Kaminsky’s dollar from my pocket and handed it to Jerry.

  ‘There ya go.’

  ‘OK,’ he said, tucking the money in his pocket, ‘as long as it’s legal. Whatta we do first?’

  ‘That’s it?’ I asked. ‘That’s your reaction?’

  ‘Hey, Mr G.,’ he said, with a shrug, ‘if I was in a jam I’d call you. That’s what Mr S. does, and Dino. Why would the Shamus be any different? Let’s get to work.’

  ‘Well, Kaminsky thinks I’m gonna put together a team.’

  ‘You and me, that’s the team,’ he said.

  ‘We need someb
ody in LA to track Billy Reynolds’ movements, see if he crossed anybody who wants to kill him.’

  ‘Who’s gonna do that?’

  ‘I’m gonna ask Frank to have it done,’ I said. ‘After all, he offered his help.’

  ‘That’s a good idea,’ Jerry said. ‘Mr S. has got connections.’

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘we’re gonna put them to good use.’

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  When I called Frank he told me Dino was in his suite and we should come on up. Frank opened the door and Dino greeted us with a big smile.

  ‘Eddie!’ He gave me a hug, and Jerry a firm handshake. Of all the members of the Summit – the Rat Pack – I have always felt the most warmth from Dino. I can’t explain it. Frank and I sort of bonded over the Frank Jr kidnapping thing, which I helped with, but there was still a warmth missing. But I could see that feeling on Frank’s part for Dino. It was obvious that Frank needed Dino’s friendship.

  ‘We’ve got coffee,’ Frank said. ‘Believe it or not, it’s even too early for Dino to start drinkin’.’

  The jokes on stage and off were always about Dino’s alcohol consumption when, in fact, he didn’t drink that heavily, at all.

  ‘Frank told me you’re babysitting Elvis,’ Dean said. ‘Is he the nice kid Frank always says he is?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘He’s decent and down home. That wild hip-gyrating thing doesn’t seem to transfer to his life.’ I did think that Elvis was always ‘on’, especially with his crew of ‘friends’. In my opinion, Elvis was only himself when he was alone. When he was with anyone else – even one person – he was ‘Elvis!’

  When we all had coffee cups we sat down with Frank and Dean on the sofa, Jerry and I on the armchairs.

  ‘What’s goin’ on, Eddie?’ Frank asked. ‘Can we help?’

  ‘Actually, the problem isn’t Elvis,’ I said. ‘It’s my buddy, Danny.’

  ‘I thought that was taken care of,’ Frank said.

  ‘So did I, but this morning the cops arrested him again.’ I told them about the new evidence.

  ‘And your pal swears he didn’t shoot the guy?’ Dino asked.

  ‘He does.’

  ‘And you believe him?’

  ‘I do.’

  Dean shrugged and looked at Frank. ‘Then that’s good enough for us. What can we do?’

  ‘I need to have the victim checked out in LA,’ I said. ‘I need to know what he was into, who he was associated with, and who might want him dead.’