“Maybe he’s got his reasons, Mack,” I said. “Maybe he’-”
Abruptly, he got up and walked off, leaving me in mid-sentence. I understood he felt hurt, maybe even a little betrayed, but it wasn’t my place to tell him anything.
I paid for breakfast and left the restaurant. I did not have the day off, but I wondered if I could have-and more?
Jack Entratter regarded me from behind his desk and a fat cigar. “So you’ve got a job to do for Frank?”
“More like a favor for Frank, and for Dean Martin, Jack,” I said.
“What’s it about?”
I hesitated, then said, “I think that would be better coming from Frank or Dean.”
Entratter took the cigar out of his mouth and peered at me through a haze of blue smoke.
“You work for me, son,” he said. “Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t, Jack,” I said, “but it’s my guess you want to keep Frank and Dean happy, right?”
“Well … yeah …”
“Then I’ve got to keep their confidence,” I asked. “Don’t I?”
He stuck the cigar back in his face and sat back in his chair.
“You’re a smartass, Eddie,” he said. “That’s probably why I like you-but don’t push it.”
“Look,” I said, checking my watch, “I have to go to work, so I won’t be able to do anything for Frank or Dean until-”
“Whoa,” he said, holding up his hand. “Didn’t we just talk about keeping them happy?”
“Well, yeah, but I’ve still got a job-”
“You’re off the clock,” Entratter said, “as of now. Got it?”
“Well, sure, Jack,” I said. “That’s real nice of you to offer-”
“Offer, my ass,” he said, “That’s what you came in here to get, only you wanted me to think it was my idea, right?”
I guess I looked a bit sheepish then.
“I said you were a smartass, Eddie,” he said, “I didn’t say you were smarter than me. Understand?”
“I understand, Jack.”
“Now get outta here.”
I stood up to leave.
“One more thing,” he said, before I got to the door.
“What’s that, Jack?”
“You report to me at the end of each day,” he said. “I wanna know what’s goin’ on.”
“I think I can do that.”
“If you can’t,” he said, “you better have a good reason why. Capice?”
Jack Entratter wasn’t Italian, and that was one of the only words he knew.
“Capice, Jack.”
Ten
I wasn’t used to being a free man, with time on my hands. Not having to go to work that day left me feeling curiously empty. I loved my job, loved the feel of a busy casino, especially one as large and bustling as the Sands.
But there were other casinos that basically offered the same things. If I stepped out onto the strip I could turn left and walk to Bugsy Siegel’s place, the Flamingo, or to the right to the Desert Inn or, beyond that, the Thunderbird.
My personal favorite-other than the Sands-was the Flamingo. I think it was because of the history. It was, after all, the casino that had started it all.
But I didn’t have time to go casino-hopping. I decided to go to the bar to do some thinking over a drink. It was early in the day to start, but then I didn’t have to be at work anytime soon. When I got there I saw that Bev was working. I grabbed a barstool rather than sit at a table.
“A little early for you, ain’t it, Eddie?” the bartender asked.
“No harm getting an early start once in a while, is there, Harry?”
“Hell, no. What’ll be?”
“Bourbon, rocks.”
“Comin’ up.”
When he had me set up, Beverly came sidling up next to me.
“Well, what happened to you, last night?”
“I might ask you the same thing.”
“After you abandoned me,” she said, “Frank and Henry asked me to go out with them.”
“And Miss Campbell?”
Bev made a face. “She didn’t want me to go.”
“She was jealous of you.”
“I didn’t take that as a compliment,” she said. “She’d be jealous of any woman.”
“You could have gone with them as Henry Silva’s date, though.”
She laughed. “He already had three women. I think that was enough for him to handle.”
“So what did you do?”
“I went home. I waited a while for you to come back, and then I went home.”
“Alone?”
“What do you mea-”
“I just meant,” I said, hurriedly, “that nobody put you in a cab, or anything?”
“Actually,” she said, “Nick Conte walked me to the door and saw me into a cab-and he was a complete gentleman.”
I felt foolish for thinking she’d gone out on the town with the Rat Pack.
“I’m sorry, Bev,” I said. “I had to go up and see Dean Martin.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re friends with Dean Martin?”
“Well not exactly,” I said. “I had some business with him.”
“What kind of business?”
“The kind I can’t talk about,” I said.
“I’m impressed,” she said. “At least you abandoned me for a good reason.”
“I didn’t abandon-”
“I’m kidding, Eddie.”
“I came down and looked for you, but you’d gone by that time. I guess it wasn’t much of a date, was it?”
“Is that what it was?” she said. “A date?”
“Well … wasn’t it?”
She thought a moment, then said, “I suppose it was-and as first dates go, it was a doozy.”
“I know,” I said, “I’m sorry-”
“No,” she said, “I meant that in a good way. I had a good time, I really did. The show was hysterical. I think I’d rather hear Frank and Dean sing-and Sammy Davis, too-but it was fun.”
“It was?”
“You know how to show a girl a good time, Eddie,” she said. “I mean, taking me backstage to meet all those famous people? It was a great date, believe me.”
“Uh, well, I’m glad,” I said. “I’m real glad you enjoyed it, Bev.”
“Do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Ask me out again, some time?”
“Well … of course. I mean, for this to have been a first date there’d have to be a second, right?”
“And next time I’ll let you see me home,” she promised.
“It’s a deal. Thanks, Bev.”
“No,” she said, “thank you, Eddie.”
She turned and flounced away, knowing I was watching. Her walk was something to behold.
Eleven
I was still sitting on the stool, nursing the same drink, when Joey Bishop entered the bar. He spotted me and came walking over with a spring in his step.
“You look happy,” I said.
“I’m always happy after a good show,” he said. “Last night was a good show.”
“What happened to you after?” I asked. “Did you go out with the rest of ’em?”
“I turned in,” Joey said. “I can’t handle the nightlife like Frank and Peter and Sammy can. How about you? How did your meeting with Dean go?’
“Fine, I guess.”
“Are you, uh, helping him out?”
“I am,” I said. “You got any idea what it’s about, Joey?”
“No,” he said, “but if Frank or Dean want me to know, they’ll tell me.”
“Fair enough,” I said, “but tell me more about Mack Gray?”
“Mack? What about him?”
“That’s what I’m asking you.”
“He’s a loyal guy,” Joey said. “He was loyal to George Raft for years, and now he’s loyal to Dean.”
“Why would Dean keep anything from him, then?”
“I don’t know, Eddie,” Joey said. “You’d have to ask Dean. Why? Did Mack say anything to you?”
“Mack is mad,” I said, “I’m just not sure if he’s mad at me or at Dean.”
“Mack doesn’t get mad at Dean, ever,” Joey said.
“Great, then he’s mad at me. I don’t need that.”
“If you want Mack off your back go to Dean,” Joey said. “He’ll take care of it.”
“No, I’ll wait a while,” I said. “I don’t wanna bother Dean until I have something positive to tell him.”