“When you gettin’ out?” he asked.
“Tomorrow mornin’.”
“You wanna go home from here?”
“I dunno,” I said. “Guess I’ll decide that in the morning.”
“I’ll have somebody from the Sands come and pick you up.”
“I appreciate that, Jack.”
“No problem, Eddie,” he said. “You’re here because I made you talk to Frank. I feel bad about it.”
“Don’t, Jack,” I said. “I coulda pulled out any time. I didn’t.”
“But you are now, right? I’ll talk to Frank, and Dean-”
“No,” I said. “I want to see this through.”
“Eddie … whatayawanna get killed?”
“No,” I said, “but I don’t want to run, either. I want to do what I said I was gonna do, help find out who’s threatenin’ Dean.”
“Frank and Dean ain’t gonna think any less of you if you quit,” he assured me. “Not after this.”
“Jack,” I said, “I think it’s too late to pull out, don’t you? I mean, somebody obviously wants me dead. They might come for me, anyway.”
“You got a point,” he said. “I hate to say this … never thought I would … but maybe you should go to the cops.”
“I still have to think about it.”
“Can’t get rid of that tough Brooklyn guy inside you, huh, kid?”
“I was never that tough, Jack,” I said. “Just kinda stubborn.”
“I’m gonna get you all the help you need, Eddie,” he said.
“You bring in some muscle, Jack, and we may never find out who was behind this.”
“Why would that be so bad?” he asked. “Let’s just scare ’em off.”
“No,” I said, “I want to know who put a bomb in my car.” I wanted to know who had almost killed Judy Campbell, too. If she had been in my car I would have had to live with that all my life.
“Okay,” Jack said, “okay, we’ll play it your way. I’ll still have you picked up in the morning.”
“No argument.”
“If you come to the Sands make sure you stop by and see me first.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I already spoke with the hospital,” he said. “Don’t worry about the bill.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
“Yeah, sure.”
I thought I blinked, but my eyes must have been closed longer than that because when I opened them Jack Entratter was gone.
Fifty-five
When l opened my eyes again I saw that I had another visitor. I also saw that it was dark out, probably well past visitor’s hours.
“How’d you get them to let you in here?” I asked Jerry.
He turned from the window and walked over to the bed. I had recognized his broad back.
“I tol’ ’em to try and make me leave,” he said. “Nobody had the balls to do it.”
“What are you doin’ here, Jerry?”
“My job,” he said. “Keepin’ you safe.”
“I’m in the hospital, Jerry.”
“They can get to you here just as easy as out there, Eddie,” he said. “Believe me, I know. I’ve seen it.”
“You gonna stay awake all night?” I asked.
“That’s the plan.”
I stared at him. Was he doing this because Frank had told him to keep me healthy, or had we managed to bond over the past two days?
I really didn’t care.
“Thanks, Jerry.”
“Sure,” he said.
“What happened with you and the cops-”
“Just go to sleep,” he said, cutting me off. “I’ll be here when you wake up. We’ll talk about it then.”
I wanted to tell him that was jake with me, but when I opened my mouth no words came out ….
Next time I opened my eyes the sun was streaming in the window. Jerry was still there, sitting in a chair, still awake.
“’Mornin’” he said.
“You must be exhausted,” I said.
“I had a few hours rest yesterday in a cell,” he said. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“How’d the lawyer get you out?”
“There was no match with my gun, and the witness they had turned out to be not so good. He saw two men, one taller than the other, but no faces.”
“So how did the cops know to come to the Sands to get you?” I asked. “And why talk to me about it?”
“You ain’t so concussed,” he said. “Them’s good questions.”
“Something’ ain’t right here,” I said.
“With cops,” he said, “nothin’ is ever right. You ain’t gonna get no help from cops on this, Eddie.”
“I believe it.”
“Yer gonna have ta count on me, and on yer friend Danny.”
I knew I could count on Danny. But could I really count on Jerry? After all, he was Giancana’s man on loan to Frank Sinatra. Seemed to me I was low man on the totem pole.
“First thing we’ve got to do is get me out of here,” I said. “Jack Entratter said he’d be sendin’ someone.”
“That’s me,” he said. “I’ll drive ya.”
It was then it hit me that my beloved ’52 Caddy was gone. There may have been a piece or two on my lawn somewhere, but it was gone.
“You thinkin’ about your car?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s a sin, blowin’ up a car like that. Somebody needs to die just for that.”
I agreed with him.
Jerry found my clothes in a nearby closet. I was dressed, sliding my feet into my shoes when a middle-aged nurse came through the door.
“Looks like you’re cleared to leave, Mr. Gianelli,” she said.
“Thank you.”
She gave Jerry a hard look. I didn’t bother asking what kind of run-in he must have had with the nursing staff the night before.
“Wait here while I get a wheelchair,” she said.
“No,” I said. “I can walk.”
“A wheelchair is required, Mr. Gianelli,” the nurse said. “Regulations.”
“My man says he can walk,” Jerry said to her. “He’s gonna walk.”
She glared at him again, seemed about to leave, then said to him, “You’re a horrible bully!”
He looked at me with an expression that asked, What did I do to deserve that?
“She doesn’t know what she’s talkin’ about,” I said.
“Thanks. I just-”
“I think you’re a helluva bully.”
Fifty-six
Jerry made me wait just inside the front door while he brought the car around. Jack Entratter had given him a vehicle registered to the Sands, a black Mercury. As I got in and he drove off we were both silent. I knew we were each thinking about my late Caddy.
“Well,” he said, breaking the quiet, “one good thing came out of this.”
“What’s that?”
“You ain’t a suspect no more,” he said. “Cops figure somebody tried to blow you up might be the same somebody killed those girls, and Mike Borraco.”
“I guess that’s one way of puttin’ a positive spin on it.”
“It ever happen to you before?”
“Never. You?”
“Once.”
“What happened?”
“I got lucky,” Jerry said. “Like you.”
“Just a coupla lucky stiffs,” I said.
“Better’n a coupla dead ones.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
When we got to the Sands we both headed up to Jack Entratter’s office, but Jerry stayed out in the waiting room while I went inside.
“You look woozy,” he said.
“I’m fine.”
“You shoulda went home.”
“This is my home.”
“Eddie-”
“I know what you meant, Jack,” I said, cutting him off. “I don’t wanna go home. I’m pissed, I wanna do something.”
“Like what?”
“Kick some ass,” I said, “I just have to find out whose ass to kick.”
“Let it go.”
“What?”
“Let the cops find who put the bomb in your car.”
“We went through this last night, Jack,” I said. “They’re gonna keep comin’ for me, whoever they are.”
“I thought of that,” he said. “I got an idea.”
“What?”
“Get outta town.”
“And go where?”
“Reno,” Entratter said. “Frank’s got a piece of the Cal-Neva. You can work there for a while.”
“I appreciate the offer, Jack,” I said, “but I can’t do that.”
“Eddie, if you get yerself killed, I’m the one’s gonna be pissed.”