[Rat Pack 11] - I Only Have Lies for You Read online

  Gentry hesitated, then said, “I don’t know.”

  I looked at his desk. There were other folders there, one of them very thick.

  “You’ve got other cases,” I said, jerking my chin. “And you’ve been workin’ them for a long time. What’s goin’ on, Chief?”

  He hesitated again, then seemed to come to some kind of decision.

  “Close that door,” he said.

  Jerry got up and closed the office door.

  ‘What we talk about now goes no further than this room. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I said.

  Jerry had remained standing after closing the door, but now he sat down again.

  “I got it,” he said to Gentry.

  Reluctantly, Chief Gentry opened the thickest of folders on his desk.

  “This is a case that has been being worked for months, well before you came here, before Philip Rossi was murdered.” He hesitated as if second-guessing himself. “The only reason I’m telling you about this is because you are not part of this department.”

  “We’re not gonna say a word,” I promised.

  SIXTY SIX

  “There has been an Internal Affairs investigation going on for several months concerning Detectives Eisman and Winter.”

  Bingo. I didn’t know how I had pulled that one out of a hat only an hour before. It could only have been a result of having thought outside the box.

  “I didn’t know Eisman that well,” I said, “but I had a couple of meetings with him after the initial interview regarding the murder. We met once at this bar he owns off of Collins, and then again when he came to Vegas. I gotta say, he didn’t strike me as being dirty.”

  “No,” Chief Gentry said, “after the first few weeks the I.A. detectives cleared him, but they were still looking into Winter.”

  “Did Eisman know Winter was dirty?” I asked. “I mean, they were partners. He would’ve had to know, right?”

  “Eisman resisted for a long time, but he finally agreed to work with us.”

  “And what did he tell you?”

  “The I.A. guys thought he was about to talk. In fact, they had a meet set with him for when he got back from Vegas.”

  “Only he never came back.”

  “Right.”

  “And Winter came to Vegas, only he went someplace else first, didn’t he?”

  Gentry fell silent, got that second-guessing look again.

  “Either you, or your I.A. guys, think Winter came to Vegas and killed Eisman, don’t you? Because he knew about the meeting with I.A. when he returned.”

  “That’s what they think, yes. Only he left days before you say he got there.”

  I looked at Jerry, who had been silent this whole time.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think maybe Winter came to Vegas, killed his partner, then left and came back on the day he met with us at the airport, to make it look like he just got there.”

  “That’s what I think.” I looked at Gentry. “I’ve got a P.I. buddy in Vegas who can probably check this out even quicker than you can. But Winter could’ve flown into L.A. and driven to Vegas, killed his partner, driven back to L.A., and then flown into Vegas.”

  “Didn’t you check on incoming flights that day?” Gentry asked. “You would’ve seen if he had come in on a flight from L.A..”

  I looked at Jerry. “I don’t remember if we checked on incoming flights,’ he said. “I think we just stood there and waited to see him.”

  “In any case,” I said, “he could also have flown from here

  to L.A., and then flown right out to Vegas.”

  “Well,” Gentry said, “your guy can check on that from your end, and mine can check this end.”

  “I’m gonna call my guy as soon as we’re done, here. But the question still remains, what does all of this have to do with the murder of Phil Rossi, and the attempt on me.”

  “Gentry put his beefy hands together, and then spread them apart.

  “They could be two separate things. It might just be a coincidence that Eisman and Winter caught your case of the dead guy in the elevator.”

  “So Winter killed Eisman, but somebody else killed Rossi and tried to kill me.”

  “Could be.”

  “Or it could all be malarkey,” Jerry said.

  “That’s possible, too,” Gentry said. “Maybe we’re all just reaching.”

  I had to admit I thought I had been reaching when I started to think about dirty cops. Now I wasn’t so sure.

  ***

  As far as the murder of Philip Rossi went, Gentry didn’t know anything about Rachel Foster, aka Merlina.

  “There’s nothing about her in Eisman and Winter’s case file,” Gentry said. “I’ll assign a new pair of detectives. Is there anything else they should know?”

  “It looks like Merlina left Cassadaga,” I said, “so they won’t find her there.”

  “We figure either the killer is with her, or the killer was Esteban, the man I shot,” Jerry said.

  “Still,” I said, “he didn’t come for me with a blade. I don’t think he killed Rossi.”

  “Oh,” Gentry said.

  “What?”

  “I just realized if Winter killed his partner with a blade, he was trying to make it look like the same killer did Rossi. That’s... cold.”

  SIXTY SEVEN

  Before we left, the Chief took Jerry’s gun out of his desk.

  “I’m going to give this back to you,” he said. “As far as I’m concerned, you saved Mr. Gianelli’s life in Cassadaga.”

  “Thank you,” Jerry said, reaching for it.

  “Just please,” the Chief said, “don’t make me regret it. Try not to shoot anybody in Miami Beach.”

  “I’ll do that,” Jerry said, picking up the gun. “For a cop, you ain’t a bad guy.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Gentry said. “Are you guys headed back to Vegas?”

  ”Probably tomorrow.”

  “Will you keep me informed, if you see or hear anything from Winter?”

  “You got it, Chief,” Jerry said.

  We agreed to let the Chief and his men work on the murders of Phil Rossi and Detective Eisman. We were going to try to solve Jackie Gleason’s problem, if we could properly identify it. Of course, we didn’t tell the Chief what we thought Gleason’s problem was, that his psychic was blackmailing him.

  We went out the front door and got into the appropriated car, which we had forgotten to tell the Chief about. While Jerry reloaded his gun, I looked in the glove compartment and found some papers on the car that we could show to a cop if we got stopped.

  From Police Headquarters we drove back to June Taylor’s’s house, stopping first at a deli Jerry spotted. We bought enough food for the three of us, so June wouldn’t have to come home and cook.

  When we reached June’s house at the beach Jerry took charge of the kitchen, while I used the phone to call Danny. As soon as he realized it was me, he reamed my ass.

  “Where the fuck have you guys been? I’ve been calling the Sands lookin’ for you. I thought you went missin’ like that cop, or maybe you were dead.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “We’ve been movin’ around, and haven’t really had time to check in.”

  “What the fuck,” he said, again. “Busy doin’ what?”

  I filled him in on moving to June’s house, driving to Orlando and Cassadaga, the attempted murder, the drive back to Miami Beach and the meeting with the Chief-of-Detectives.

  “Jesus Christ,” Danny said. “Jerry killed a guy and the cops gave him his gun back?”

  “The Chief here is very understanding,” I said.

  “Well, I’ll tell you who ain’t understandin’,” Danny said. “Jackie Gleason.”

  “What about him?”

  “When I called the Sands lookin’ for you guys, they told me that Gleason has been callin’ too. He wants to talk to you in a big way.”

  “Okay, well, do you have anythi
ng to tell us?”

  “Yeah, your guy, Winter?” Danny said. “From what I can see, he was here twice. Looks like he drove in from L.A. while his partner was here. Then he drove back, turned in his rental car, and disappeared. I’m betting he flew back to L.A. under an assumed name, and then flew back to Vegas under his own name to see you.”

  “And then disappeared after he found out that I didn’t know anything.”

  “If I’m puttin’ money on anythin’, it’s that he killed his partner.”

  I told Danny how the Miami Beach P.D. had been investigating Eisman and Winter, but had cleared Eisman.

  “And was Eisman cooperating, then?”

  “He was.”

  “So they think Winter killed him?”

  “They don’t want to think about a man killing his own partner, but they are.”

  “So if they’re workin’ on that premise, what’s left for us to do? They still workin’ the first murder, the guy in the elevator?”

  “They are.”

  “What are you and Jerry gonna be doin’?”

  “Well, we were going to talk to Jackie, and find out what he’s hot and bothered about.”

  “Blackmail will do that to a person.”

  “Let’s see if he admits that’s what’s been goin’ on.”

  “But I gotta tell you,” Danny said, “seems to me there’s more at stake than havin’ his public find out he believes in psychics and ghosts, or whatever.”

  ”I agree,” I said. “Somethin’ else is goin’ on.”

  “And it’s bringin’ out your Brooklyn,” Danny said. “I can hear it.”

  “Yeah, me, too. With any luck we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Just don’t forget I’m out here worryin’, okay?”

  “Deal.”

  “And tell the big guy.”

  “I will.”

  As I hung up there was a key in the lock and June came walking in.

  “I saw the car outside,” she said. “Are you guys okay?” She dropped her carryall bag, with her dance gear in it, to the floor.

  “We’re fine,” Jerry said. ”We got some food for you.”

  “Great! I’m starved!”

  “Before we eat,” I said to her, “I’ve just been told Jackie’s been trying to call me in Vegas.”

  “Yes,” she said, “he’s been desperate to get ahold of you.”

  “And you didn’t tell him I’m not in Vegas?”

  “You didn’t want me to.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Then I didn’t.”

  “Can you get ahold of him and set us up to meet tomorrow?” I asked. “We want to talk to him, and I guess it’s obvious he wants to talk to us.”

  “I’ll call him tonight.”

  “You know where he’s going to be?”

  “Of course,” she said. “With Marilyn.”

  “Okay, then.”

  “Can we eat now?”

  “We can eat.”

  She looked at Jerry.

  “What do we have, big fella?”

  “Pastrami...” Jerry started.

  SIXTY EIGHT

  June was exhausted from the day’s rehearsals and went to bed early. Jerry and I were also worn out from our trip to Orlando and Cassadaga and back, so we also hit the sack early.

  By morning June had arranged a meeting between us and Jackie.

  “He doesn’t want to wait, and he doesn’t want to do it in a restaurant,” she said. “So he suggested you both come with me to the theater this morning, so you can talk there.”

  “He’s gonna be at the theater for rehearsal?” I asked. “He must really be worried about something.”

  June didn’t respond. We were eating bagels, which Jerry had also bought at the deli the night before. She paid special attention to smearing cream cheese on hers.

  “Come on, June,” I said. “It’s got to be more than just not wanting his fans to know he believes in psychics.”

  “I’m sorry, Eddie,” she said, “but I’ve already told you all I can about this situation. The rest is up to Jackie, himself.”

  Jackie was her friend, her employer, and I was just a guy she’d met a short time ago. I got it.

  “Okay,” I said, biting into my bagel.

  June looked at me.

  “Is it really okay?”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “Let’s just see what Jackie has to say.”

  ***

  “I’m gonna pay the blackmail.”

  That’s what Jackie had to say.

  “What blackmail?” I didn’t want him to know that June had been filling us is.

  “That don’t matter, Eddie.” We were in Jackie’s dressing room: him, me, and Jerry. “I just want you to pay it.”

  “And that’s why you’ve been trying to reach me?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “And they want you to make the drop.”

  “Me?” Why were people constantly trying to give me jobs I wasn’t trained for. “Why me?”

  “Because,” Jackie said, “they want the payoff to be made in Las Vegas.”

  Okay, wait a minute. That wasn’t so bad. That was my home turf, and I’d have Jerry and Danny with me.

  “When?”

  “I told them I had to get ahold of you and then set it up,” Jackie said. “They’ve been callin’ me for the last three nights.”

  “It’s obvious they ain’t pros,” Jerry said.

  “Howzat?” Jackie asked.

  “They’re lettin’ you call the shots,” Jerry said. “Pros wouldn’t do that. They wouldn’t be waitin’ for you to get ahold of Mr. G.. They’d have you make the payment with somebody else.”

  “No,” Jackie said, “you don’t get it.” He flicked ash off the ever present cigarette. “They want Eddie to make the payoff, and they want him to make it alone.”

  “Did they say why?”

  “They said since I had chosen to involve you, and you lived in Vegas, you might as well be useful.”

  “But why Vegas?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I just want to get this thing overwith.”

  “What whole thing?”

  “Huh? This,” Jackie said, “the... blackmail.”

  “It could’ve been over sooner, if you’d leveled with us from the beginning,” I said.

  “I know, I know,” Jackie said, “I was an idiot. Frank can tell you, I do that, sometimes. But I’m ready to actually let you help me, now.”

  “Help you pay the blackmail.”

  “Yes.”

  “But blackmail for what, Jackie?” I wanted to make him explain it all to me.

  Jackie put his cigarette out, plucked a fresh one from his pocket and lit it before answering.

  “I can’t have my viewers knowing that I went to Cassadaga to see a psychic,” he said, finally. “They’d think I was... crazy.”

  “You’re a funnyman, Jackie,” I said. “You don’t think they already think you’re crazy?”

  “Ha! Crazy funny is different than crazy nutty, don’t you think?”

  “I think you’re still holding something back.”

  “You do, huh?” Jackie asked. “And you think you’re entitled to know what it is?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  Jackie looked at Jerry.

  “How much is the blackmail?” Jerry asked,

  “Fifty grand,” Jackie said. “You think I’m gonna pay fifty grand to keep somethin’ quiet, and then tell you about it?”

  “Do you think I’m gonna take my life in my hands to deliver your fifty grand, and not know why?” I asked, trying to keep my anger in check.

  Jackie drew on his cigarette and blew the smoke out disgustedly.

  “No, I suppose not.” He looked down at the cigarette in his right hand, flicked the ash. “It’s something that happened a long time ago, something I’m not proud of. Madame Merlina said she could help me.”

  “How?”

  “How else?” he asked. “Putting me in tou
ch with the dead.”

  “And did she?”

  “No,” Jackie said, “but I told her my secret. After I came back here, she waited months before contacting me, and threatening to tell if I didn’t pay.”

  “You said no.”

  “Initially,” he said. “I had no intention of giving that phony any more of my money. Then a man came to town, stopped me in the parking lot of the theater one day.”

  “Rossi.”

  He nodded.

  “He renewed the threat, made some lewd comments about Marilyn. I still said no. So he began to follow her, frightening her.”

  “Why did June think I could do anything?”

  “Frank talked about you, told me all the problems you’ve fixed in the past, the people you’ve helped. Ava, Judy... Bing. Even told me about Elvis. I told Marilyn. She must’ve told June.”

  “Why did June bring me in, not you?”

  “June acted before I did,” he said. “Rossi ended up dead, and I thought it was over.”

  “But it wasn’t.”

  “No, I heard from Merlina again. Turns out Rossi wasn’t acting for her. He was trying to go around her and hit me up for money, himself. He even brought the price down. Twenty grand. I still said no.” He shrugged. “I’m stubborn.”

  “And the man who killed Rossi?”

  “He was working for her,” Jackie said. “She said now I knew how serious she was. That’s when I took Marilyn and flew to Vegas to see you.”

  “But you still didn’t tell me what was going on.”

  “Then you called my suite and told me about that cop gettin’ killed,” Jackie said. “That’s when I knew things had gotten way out of hand. I couldn’t risk anybody else gettin’ killed, not Marilyn, not you. So we came home, and I started plannn’ to pay.”

  “Fifty grand,” I said.

  He nodded.

  “And you think she’ll stop after that?”

  “I told her it’s a one-time payment,” he said, “that if she came back at me, I’d go to the cops. I had no intention of lettin’ her bleed me dry. I think she got the message.”

  “So you’re sure you want to play it this way?”

  “I’m sure, Eddie,” Jackie said. “Do I have to tell you more about my little... secret?”