You Make Me Feel So Dead Read online

Page 16


  ‘I’m sorry to wake you up, Eddie, but we needed to talk,’ he said.

  ‘About what?’ I asked.

  ‘Joey Scaffazza.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘He’s one of mine.’

  ‘Scaffazza works for you? Inside Roselli’s organization?’

  Momo nodded.

  ‘Ever since ‘56, when Johnny took over our operations in Vegas, I’ve had someone inside. For the past couple of years it’s been Scaffazza.’

  Roselli ran the Mafia’s operation in Vegas, making sure they got their skim from the various casinos they owned, but he did it from LA. Ostensibly, as far as the government was concerned, Johnny was employed as a producer for Monogram Studios. It was Roselli who ‘convinced’ Columbia Pictures President Harry Cohn to sign Marilyn Monroe to a contract in 1948, on the orders of his boss Tony Arcardo. Other than that, Johnny’s contribution to Hollywood was to sleep with as many starlets as he could.

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’ I asked.

  He looked at me, and gestured with his knife, which he held in his right hand, European style.

  ‘Because I heard that you wanna talk to Scaffazza about some problem you got here in Vegas,’ he said. ‘I heard that Johnny promised to deliver Scaffazza to Frank.’

  ‘Alive.’

  ‘Yeah, alive,’ Giancana said. ‘I heard that, too. Lately, Johnny ain’t so happy with Joey, but that’s OK. I already got another man inside. So if Johnny snuffs Joey …’ He shrugged.

  ‘Then if you don’t care if Johnny kills Joey, why bring me here?’

  ‘I want you to know you’re dealin’ with one of my people,’ Giancana said.

  ‘Do you want me to tell you why?’

  He put another piece of scungilli in his mouth and said, ‘Nah. Frankie already explained.’

  ‘Then I’m still confused as to why I’m here,’ I said. ‘Other than the snails and wine.’

  ‘We got-a more sauce,’ he said, ‘and some pasta. You want some-a dat?’ I noticed that Giancana’s Italian accent always got heavier when he talked about food. I’d noticed it the other couple of times I’d been ushered into his presence. Seemed to me he was always eating when we talked. Or drinking wine. Or both.

  ‘No, thanks,’ I said. ‘When I get back home I’m goin’ back to bed.’

  ‘Suit yourself.’ He cut another piece and forked it into his mouth, then pointed at me with the fork, this time. ‘If Johnny kills Scaffazza, that’s one thing. But if somebody outside the organization kills him – a civilian – that ain’t OK. Do I make myself clear?’

  ‘Wait,’ I said, ‘you think I want to kill Scaffazza?’

  Momo shrugged.

  ‘Momo, I don’t kill people.’

  ‘Jerry does. He’s good at it.’

  I think, since I had met Jerry, that might have been the first time anybody actually said he killed people.

  ‘Well, he’s not going to kill Scaffazza,’ I assured him. ‘That’s not what I’m after.’

  ‘Good,’ Momo said, picking up his wine glass, ‘good, I’m glad to hear that, Eddie.’

  ‘But I do need to talk to Scaffazza,’ I said. ‘And I might need Jerry to convince him to talk to me.’

  ‘Well,’ Giancana said, ‘that big Hebe is a good convincer, too.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘he is. Can I ask you a question?’

  ‘Sure, go ahead. After all, I dragged you out of a warm bed, didn’t I?’ He leaned forward. ‘Didn’t have a broad there with you, did ya? One of them leggy Vegas showgirls?’

  ‘No,’ I said, thinking about Valerie, ‘not tonight.’

  ‘Huh, too bad.’ He went back to his food. ‘OK, so what’s your question?’

  ‘Do you know a guy named William Reynolds?’ I asked. ‘Did you ever know him?’

  ‘Reynolds,’ Momo said, ‘Not Italian.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Not that I only know Italians,’ Momo said, ‘even though most of my friends are Italian. But … no, I never hearda the bum. Why?’

  ‘Somebody killed him here in town.’

  ‘Ah, Frankie tol’ me somebody got killed,’ Momo said. ‘He didn’t tell me the name. Reynolds, huh?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Vinnie!’ he shouted.

  I heard footsteps, and then Number One appeared and said, ‘Yes, Mr Giancana?’

  ‘We know a guy named Reynolds?’ He looked at me.

  ‘William,’ I said.

  ‘William Reynolds.’

  ‘Or Billy,’ I said.

  Vinnie cocked his head, like he was thinking it over, then said, ‘No, sir, don’t know ’im.’

  Giancana looked at me. ‘Good enough?’

  ‘Good enough. Thanks.’

  ‘Vinnie,’ he said, ‘take Eddie home.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  I stood up, was about to say something else to the mob boss, but he had already turned his attention back to his scungilli and forgot I was there.

  I followed Vinnie up the stairs …

  They pulled the car to the curb in front of my house.

  ‘Thanks for the ride, boys.’

  Vinnie turned around.

  ‘About Joey Scaffazza.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  Number Two kept his eyes front.

  ‘He’s a scumbag,’ he said, ‘but he’s a smart scumbag. He plays both ends against the middle, if you get my drift.’

  ‘I think I do.’

  ‘If he was to end up dead, nobody would miss ’im,’ Vinnie said. ‘Just don’t let him pull a fast one on you.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Goodnight, Mr Gianelli.’

  ‘Goodnight, Vinnie.’

  I got out and the car pulled away from the curb quietly, so as not to annoy my neighbors.

  I went back to bed.

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  In the morning I replayed over the scene with Giancana in my head over coffee and toast. It was almost like a dream, except I could still smell the marinara and taste the red wine.

  Giancana actually thought he had to warn me against killing one of his men. When exactly did I get that kind of reputation? Was I fooling myself all these years thinking I wasn’t mobbed up when people like Hargrove and Giancana obviously thought I was? Or considered that I was?

  And Jerry … I had started to think of Jerry as this lovable leg-breaker. Despite his ever present .45, I never really thought of him as a killer. Not even when he killed somebody to save my life. But to Sam Giancana, that’s what he was, a killer – and somebody who was good at it.

  But maybe it wasn’t the time for me to re-examine my life, and my friendships. Danny was still in jail on a murder charge, depending on me to get him out and prove him innocent.

  I got mad, though, driving to the Sands, and when I arrived there I stormed up to Frank’s suite and pounded on his door.

  ‘Eddie!’ he said, when he opened the door. Although dressed in slacks and a button-down white shirt, the shirt was not yet tucked in and his hair hadn’t been combed.

  ‘Surprised to see me, Frank?’ I demanded. ‘Did you think I’d be dead?’

  ‘What? Dead? No, of course not …’

  I stormed past him into the suite. He closed the door, turned to face me.

  ‘Wait a minute,’ he said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. ‘Let me explain.’

  ‘That’s exactly what I want, Frank,’ I said, ‘an explanation. Why did you serve me up to Sam Giancana?’

  ‘I didn’t serve you up to anybody,’ Frank insisted. ‘Look, sit down, have some coffee, relax, Eddie. I can explain.’

  I took a deep breath and realized what I was doing. This could get me fired. As much as Jack Entratter might like me, he’d never stand for me talking this way to Frank Sinatra.

  There was a silver coffee pot on the coffee table with several china cups. I walked over, sat down, and filled one for myself. When I saw that he had not had a cup yet, I filled one for him, too.
r />   He came over, sat across from me in an armchair, and picked up the cup.

  ‘Thanks. Look, I got a call from Momo last night. He knew all about my meeting with Roselli, and about Joey Scaffazza. He told me he was coming to Vegas and wanted to talk to you. Just talk. He said he’d send two guys to your house to escort you to him and that I should make sure you went with them.’ He sipped his coffee again, sat back in his chair. ‘Eddie, you don’t tell Sam Giancana no. But I made sure that all he wanted to do with you was talk.’

  ‘Do you know what he wanted to talk about? Specifically?’

  ‘No,’ Frank said, ‘he didn’t tell me that.’ He held his hand out to me. ‘And it’s totally up to you if you want to tell me. If it was a confidential conversation—’

  ‘Nothing was said about keeping it confidential, Frank,’ I said, and went on to relate the entire conversation to him.

  ‘So Scaffazza is Momo’s rat inside Roselli’s organization?’ Frank said. ‘Wow.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘But Momo okayed you talkin’ to him?’

  ‘He did,’ I said, ‘but he also told me not to kill him.’

  Frank looked surprised.

  ‘Why would he tell you that?’

  ‘Obviously,’ I said, ‘Momo thinks I’m a killer.’

  ‘B-but … why? What have you ever done to make him think that?’

  ‘Exactly!’

  ‘All right,’ Frank said, ‘I can understand why you were so mad. I won’t tell Jack Entratter how you treated me this morning.’

  I hesitated, then said, ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I’m expecting Johnny to call me today,’ he said. ‘When you go talk to Scaffazza I want to come along.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Let’s just say I want to see this through. I got the meet, I want to go to it.’

  ‘OK,’ I said. ‘I don’t have a problem with that.’

  After a moment he said, ‘We, uh, will be takin’ Jerry along, right?’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ I said.

  We both drank our coffee.

  FIFTY-NINE

  After I left Frank I tried to call Kaminsky, but he didn’t answer, and neither did his assistant. Of course, the phone number I had was for his office – his real office – and he was never there.

  I called information and got the phone number for Grabstein’s Deli. Then I called there and asked for Kaminsky.

  ‘Who shall I say is calling?’ Manny asked.

  ‘Tell him it’s Eddie G.’

  ‘Hold on.’

  After a few moments Kaminsky came on.

  ‘Hey, bubula, what’s going on?’

  ‘I was about to ask you the same question. You get Danny out yet?’

  ‘I’m meeting with the judge in his chambers later this morning,’ he said. ‘I should be able to get it done then.’

  ‘Well, I need to talk to Danny as soon as I can,’ I said.

  ‘He’s still in holding,’ Kaminsky said. ‘They’ll only move him if his bail is denied.’

  ‘Is that a possibility?’ I asked. ‘That they’d deny it after they approved it?’

  ‘Anything’s possible, bubby,’ he said. ‘But you can go down and see him. They’ll let you in because you represent me.’

  ‘Yeah, and they’re supposed to let him out because we’ve got the bail money.’

  ‘They’re screwing around with that,’ he said, ‘but they wouldn’t screw with Kaminsky seeing his own client – and you represent Kaminsky. Don’t you forget that.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  ‘I’ll talk to you later.’

  We hung up. I was using a phone in the lobby of the Sands, and Jerry was standing by.

  ‘Let’s go,’ I said.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘To see Danny,’ I said. ‘I want to take everything we’ve learned and run it by him.’

  ‘We ain’t learned much,’ Jerry observed.

  ‘So it won’t take that long.’

  We got into the Caddy and drove down to the police station.

  I got in to see Danny, but Jerry didn’t.

  ‘One at the time,’ the cops told me.

  Not sure if that was actually the rule, but I told Jerry, ‘It’s OK, wait out here.’

  ‘Sure, Mr G.,’ he said, ‘I’ll wait outside. Bein’ in a police station gives me the willies, you know?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘I know.’

  They took Danny out of his cell and put him in a room so I could see him. He was seated at a table, handcuffed. He looked more rumpled and messed up than I’d ever seen him, and he had a welt over one eye.

  ‘What’s that from?’

  ‘Fella wanted my bunk,’ he said.

  ‘Did he get it?’

  ‘Whatayou think?’

  I didn’t think so. I sat down across from him.

  ‘I don’t know how much time I’ve got so I’ll talk fast,’ I said.

  I told him we’d checked out all three men he suspected could be Kroner. I told him what we’d found out, and what Frank had done. I told him everybody who was helping.

  ‘Jesus, Eddie,’ he said, ‘you got Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Elvis Presley workin’ on this?’

  ‘And me and Jerry.’

  ‘Well, sure, I know that, but these other guys … How’d you do that?’

  ‘They all volunteered, Danny.’

  ‘Or you volunteered them.’

  ‘Nope, it was their own decision,’ I said.

  ‘Well,’ Danny said, ‘tell ’em all I appreciate it – especially Elvis. I mean, he was willing to put up two hundred grand for me.’

  ‘You can tell them that when you get out.’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘whenever that is.’

  ‘Kaminsky says he’s meeting with the judge today,’ I said. ‘In his chambers. He’ll get you out.’

  ‘Yeah, I know he will,’ he agreed, but he didn’t sound very convincing.

  ‘What about this Scaffazza guy?’ he asked. ‘Think you can make a case for him killin’ Reynolds instead of me?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘What would his motive be?’

  ‘I don’t know … money?’

  ‘Possibly. What about these three suspects of yours? What do you think of them?’

  ‘I think one of them is Kroner.’

  ‘I gotta tell you, Danny,’ I said, ‘that doesn’t seem likely.’

  ‘This kind of case is tricky, Eddie,’ he said. ‘If they all convinced you guys, I still think one of them is doin’ a better job than the rest. One of them’s gotta be him, but even if he is, there’s no proof he had anything to do with the murder.’

  ‘All we have to do is connect Reynolds to one of them,’ I said. ‘Look, Danny, I need a DMV contact.’

  ‘What for?’

  I told him how Hargrove had messed with the old lady’s memory about the license plate she’d seen.

  ‘That sonofabitch.’

  ‘I want to run the plate the other three ways and see if we come up with somebody who looks like you.’

  ‘You’re a smart guy, Eddie,’ he said. ‘Yeah, we got a DMV guy. Talk to Penny, she’ll give you the number. How’s she holdin’ up?’

  ‘Like a trooper.’

  ‘When do you think you’ll be seein’ this Scaffazza?’

  ‘As soon as Frank gets the call,’ I said, ‘and he wants to go with me.’

  ‘Well, you make sure you take Jerry with you.’

  ‘We will.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘have you thought about another lawyer? The guys have sort of hinted they can get you somebody a little more high profile.’

  ‘Kaminsky’s my guy, Eddie,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, he’ll get me out.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, ‘if you trust him, so do I.’

  ‘I trust him like I trust you.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Danny,’ I said. ‘We’re all workin’ on this for you.’

  ‘I appreciate it,’ he sai
d, ‘and look into those three guys a little deeper. I’d swear one of them is Kroner.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, ‘I’ll get my team back on the job.’

  ‘Your team,’ Danny said, with a lopsided grin. ‘Some team.’

  ‘I’ll see you soon,’ I said, ‘on the outside.’

  I started for the door, then stopped.

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘Your gun.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘The cops claim it’s the murder weapon.’

  ‘Impossible.’

  ‘Is it your only gun?’

  ‘No, I have one other. I keep it at home.’

  ‘What kind?’

  ‘A thirty-two.’

  ‘Could someone have gotten ahold of your thirty-eight and killed Reynolds with it?’

  ‘That would’ve been kinda hard.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I had my gun on me the day of the murder.’

  ‘The whole time?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Never put it down?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Damn.’

  He nodded. I left as a guard took him back to his cell.

  SIXTY

  Jerry was waiting out in front of the building, like he said.

  ‘How’s the Shamus?’ he asked.

  ‘Holdin’ up,’ I said. ‘He’s confident that Kaminsky can get him out.’

  ‘So he don’t want a new lawyer?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Whatta we do now?’

  ‘We go see Penny,’ I said. ‘She’s going to hook us up with someone at the DMV to check those plate numbers.’

  ‘Fremont Street?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Here’s the number,’ Penny said, turning her Rolodex around to face me, ‘but why don’t you let me call him, Eddie? He knows me? You won’t need to explain so much.’

  ‘OK, Penny,’ I said, taking out the slip of paper with the numbers on it. ‘Give him these and let’s see what comes back.’

  She sat down at her desk and dialed. I drifted into Danny’s office, with Jerry behind me.

  ‘So that’s gettin’ done,’ he said. ‘Now what?’

  ‘Danny insists one of the three men we checked out is Kroner,’ I said. ‘I need more information about him.’

  ‘From where? And who?’

  ‘From Chicago,’ I said, ‘and I don’t know who. Not yet. But we also have to address the question of the gun.’