Standing in the sunlight outside felt like a betrayal. Feeling its warmth on my skin, seeing the powder-blue sky, even being alive to take a breath – all of it facing the man who’d put a bullet in Bayless. Waiting on him to give me my next assignment.
The car that’d carried us to the warehouse was waiting when we came out. Gilardino popped the trunk and produced an envelope same as the last one. He handed it to me, but kept a grip on it when I reached to take it. ‘Why’d you act up? Kid would still be alive but for you.’
I searched his eyes, saw there was no cynicism, no recognition of the hypocrisy in his words. ‘You shot him, you goddamn animal.’
‘I pulled the trigger, there’s a difference. We’re all pawns to them, you should realise that.’
‘Justify it however you want.’
‘You cross him again, Moe will kill you and your old lady, no question. But if Mr Siegel involves himself … hell, he might kill everyone you ever knew. There’s a reason he picked up that nickname.’
I let go of the envelope, sensing his fear. ‘Don’t counsel me, you worthless son of a bitch. Do you even remember what it’s like to not be scared every minute of your life?’
He pressed it to my chest. ‘Do you?’
I held his stare, the gun under his suit coat seeming to radiate heat.
‘You don’t hide it well,’ he said. ‘Never seen a man such an obvious disappointment to himself.’
‘It’s the company I’ve kept all these years.’
‘That what you tell yourself?’
I took the envelope from him and turned to go.
‘Don’t you want the lowdown?’ he said, his tone taunting, knowing he’d got under my skin.
I stopped, desperate to get back to Lizzie but wrestling with what would put the next target in more danger, knowledge or ignorance. Wondering what course might have spared Bayless. A flash of self-pity hit me, wishing Harlan Layfield had never saved my life in Hot Springs so I’d never have known this bind. Alice Anderson’s words, There are worse things than dying. Disgust hot on its heels – selfish, indulgent, weak.
I wheeled around again. ‘Say your piece.’
But he was already opening the car’s passenger door to climb in. ‘It’s all in the envelope. I was just curious to know how far they got their hooks into you.’
The car pulled away. I turned to go in the opposite direction, walking at speed until they were out of sight and then starting to run. But visions of Bayless made my legs buckle and I stumbled against the alley wall, trying to hold myself up and failing. Collapsing to the ground, feeling like I belonged there.
*
Took me five minutes to find a payphone. I called Tanner’s office, pacing on the spot while it dialled, finally hanging up after thirty rings with no answer. I dropped another dime and called the office at the Breakers Motel, the dial tone taunting me, again no answer. I slammed the phone down, feeling like I was the last man left in the goddamn city.
I had to flag a cab to take me back to the car, left a block from Ciglio’s. When it dropped me off, I jumped inside and tore off towards the beach, but a wreck in Beverly Hills brought traffic almost to a standstill. I hit the horn, yelling at no one, weighing if I should ditch the car to make a run for a payphone. I thumped the steering wheel.
Questions started to pierce my frustration. How had they found Lizzie and me? The list of people knew our whereabouts was short: Tanner, Bryce and Hendricks – the agent who’d kept watch overnight; I’d even kept Buck Acheson out of the loop. A darker thought: if they knew where Lizzie was, why not take her to use as leverage against me? Siegel’s outfit had tried it before, when I was in Hot Springs – why not now? The only answer I could make stand up was that they’d spotted the agents outside and put it together that I was talking to the law. Was that what sealed Bayless’ fate? Rosenberg said I was the one being punished – but he implied it was for telling Bayless to run. Now I wondered if he was hinting at this instead.
My head swirled with it all, and then a charge went off in my brain. Go back – the list: Tanner, Bryce, Hendricks. The men who knew where we were—
Impossible. But with everything I’d seen, there were no absolutes any more.
I leaned on the horn and didn’t let go.
*
It was another hour before I made it back to the Breakers. I made the turn off the highway and raced across the lot. I braked hard, jumped out and left the car with the door flung open.
Bryce and Hendricks were where I’d left them, seated in their vehicle. Bryce jumped out when he saw me, looking alarmed. Seeing his face, I turned to our room – drapes drawn, door closed, and ran the last few steps. Bryce called after me. ‘What happened?’
I ignored him, hammering on the door. After a moment, Lizzie opened up and ushered me inside.
Bryce came up behind me. ‘Yates, what happened?’
I kept my eyes on him. I moved Lizzie inside gently, said to Bryce over my shoulder, ‘Get Tanner here now.’ He made to follow, but I closed the door on him.
I stood there, holding Lizzie and wondering what the hell to do. She sensed something had changed, pulling me into the embrace and saying nothing.
Bryce rapped on the door, ‘Yates?’ Neither of us moved.
Finally she looked up at me.
‘They killed him,’ I said.
She closed her eyes and buried her head in my chest, whispering something I couldn’t catch.
I gave her a moment then told her the rest, sparing the details. She flinched when I mentioned the photograph of her, her shock obvious enough to make me hold back on the implications. But the look on her face told me she’d already arrived at them. Her eyes moved to the door. ‘You don’t think …’
‘Who else knew where we were?’
‘That’s … how can that be? They’re government men.’
Bryce knocked on the window now. ‘Yates? Will you open the door please?’
‘We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,’ she said.
I nodded, grinding my teeth, neither of us convinced. Feeling trapped in that room.
‘What should we do? We can’t stay here.’
‘Maybe what you said all along.’
Bryce knocked once more. ‘Special Agent Tanner will be here in ten minutes. Yates, can you hear me?’
I looked around, thinking. The only other way out was the bathroom window. I went to it, sized it up as just big enough to fit through. It led onto an empty lot covered in sand and a scattering of weeds. But leaving that way would mean ditching the car.
Lizzie put her hand on my arm. ‘Charlie, wait a moment. You’ve had a terrible shock, maybe you’re not seeing straight.’
‘You had the same thought.’
‘Maybe neither of us are.’
I closed my eyes, wishing I had time just to think. ‘It doesn’t add up.’
I looked at her again, desperate for her to see an angle I couldn’t.
‘If Siegel’s men knew you were talking to the FBI, surely they wouldn’t take a risk like that.’
There was sense in what she said. ‘I need to talk to Tanner. Put him on the spot.’
‘Somewhere public.’
I stared at her, my certainty undermined again.
‘It can’t hurt to be cautious,’ she said. ‘The coffee shop on the corner – you can have Bryce tell Tanner to meet us there.’
I kissed her on the forehead and went to the door, called out. ‘Bryce? When Tanner shows up, have him go to the joint on the corner. Now get in your car and shut the doors and windows.’
‘What?’
‘You heard me. Get going.’
I peered around the drape, saw Bryce backing towards his car slowly, glancing at Hendricks, his face twisted in confusion. I pulled it back a little so he could see me. He kept going.
When he’d shut himself in, I gathered our bags and took Lizzie by the hand. ‘Let’s go.’
I opened the door and fast-walked to the car, shielding Lizzie with my body, watching Bryce and Hendricks. Neither man made a move.
The car door closest to us was the one I’d left open, but I led Lizzie to the far side, so the car was between us and them as we got in. The key was still in the ignition. I pulled around in a tight circle, watching Bryce in the rearview all the way out of the lot.
*
Tanner walked in looking dazed. I’d calmed down some, enough to feel a creeping uncertainty in my actions. We’d taken a table right in the middle of the coffee shop. I was thinking safety in a crowd, but listening to the conversations around me, hearing normal people with normal cares, brought on a perverse sense of relief; a reminder that the world went on undaunted.
Tanner came over and sat down heavily. ‘Can you explain to me what the hell is going on?’ He looked at Lizzie. ‘Forgive me, ma’am.’
‘I’d ask you the same thing,’ I said.
‘Where did they take you?’
‘You weren’t watching?’
‘I didn’t anticipate them moving you. We were aware they took you out the back way but we weren’t able to follow covertly.’
‘They killed Trent Bayless in a warehouse near Hancock Park.’ I watched his face but he only glanced at the tables either side of us, as if I’d spoken too loud. ‘I can take you there but my guess is the body’s gone.’
He snapped back to look at me again. ‘We need to discuss this in private. Every detail. Give me the address, I’ll send some men right away.’
I didn’t know it exactly, but gave him directions based on the cab journey I’d taken back. ‘There’s something else. They had a photograph of our room at the Breakers.’
‘What?’ He leaned forward over the table, his voice barely a hiss now. ‘How is that possible?’
I watched him, felt Lizzie’s eyes burrowing into him at the same time.
He glanced at her and then back at me again. ‘What’s with the look?’
‘Who else knew where we were staying?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You, Bryce, Hendricks. Who else?’
‘Two more agents under my charge, that’s all. Just what are you implying?’
‘How would you explain it?’
He stabbed his finger at the middle of the table. ‘You’re way off track if you’re suggesting the information somehow came from my men. A million miles off.’
He said it with enough fury to make me break his stare. ‘I don’t have any answers.’
‘You damn sure do not.’ He rubbed the side of his face, eyes screwed shut. ‘Wait a minute, if they knew where to find you, how do you know they aren’t still watching?’ He jerked his head around to look through the window. ‘You goddamn—’ His eyes flicked to Lizzie and he checked himself, came back in a whisper. ‘You jackass, if they’re watching now, you’ve jeopardised my operation.’
All the blood ran from my face. He pushed his chair back sharply. ‘I’ll be at my office in thirty minutes. Call me there immediately. I’ll have Bryce and Hendricks tail you, they’ll let me know if you’re being watched.’
He stood up and was gone.
*
We gave Tanner a two-minute lead, then left the diner as fast as we could without making a commotion. I scanned the street as we came outside, looking for waiting cars or men watching us, wondering if meeting with Tanner would’ve forced Siegel’s hand and put us in immediate danger.
I bundled Lizzie into the car through the driver’s door, not wanting to waste a second, only feeling a small measure of safety when we were moving again.
‘What do we do now?’
I didn’t answer at first, driving without a direction in mind other than back towards the city, the ocean quickly slipping away in the rearview. I caught sight of Bryce and Hendricks two cars back, made a late turn and jumped a red light – anything I could think of to shake a tail, halfway hoping to throw them off too. It felt like every damn motorist I saw was watching us.
I weaved through traffic until we hit a clear stretch of blacktop. Bryce was still behind us. ‘Did you buy that back there?’
She rubbed her forehead with trembling fingers. ‘I don’t know what to think. He got pretty hot at you.’
I nodded, switching lanes, thinking.
‘He seemed more worried about his operation than anything else,’ she said. ‘If that’s his priority …’
‘I don’t doubt that it is.’
‘Then what cause would he have to work against us?’
‘One of his men then?’ The idea grew more outlandish every time I spoke it aloud.
‘I couldn’t say. But they don’t … they don’t seem the type.’
‘The ones we’ve seen.’
She screwed her eyes shut, covered them with a hand. After a moment, she turned to me again. ‘If you give evidence as to what you saw, surely Mr Tanner can make arrests?’
‘That’s my hope.’
‘You sound doubtful.’
‘A murder charge would mean giving the case to the LAPD.’ I hit the left blinker and made a right turn. ‘And besides, Siegel wasn’t there to implicate.’
*
Thirty minutes after we left, I stood at a payphone in Culver City in the shadow of the Helms Bakery. The factory sign loomed over the street, giant letters shilling their Olympic Bread.
Bryce and Hendricks cruised up to the kerb behind where I’d parked. Bryce rolled his window down. ‘You’re clean, Yates. No one was on you.’
‘You’re certain? You managed to keep up.’
‘That’s why I’m sure – you weren’t hard to tail.’
I nodded, trying not to show my disappointment. I expected him to pull away, but he gestured for me to make the call.
I dialled and Tanner answered immediately. ‘Yes?’
‘It’s me.’
‘Were you followed?’
‘Bryce is here, he says not.’ I looked at him as I said it.
‘All right. I’ve dispatched men to the address you gave me.’
‘I’ll tell you everything that happened. Moe Rosenberg and Vincent Gilardino were there, Gilardino pulled the trigger. You can put me on the stand—’
‘Yates, hold up, I can’t take a statement over the telephone.’
‘I’ll come to your office then. They’ve got me running another shakedown – you’ve got to put a stop to this.’
He muttered ‘Goddammit’ away from the mouthpiece. ‘Who’s the target?’
‘I didn’t open the envelope yet.’
‘Three days again?’
‘Yes.’
‘All right. Put Bryce on the line.’
I waved him over.
He took the receiver from me and listened. Lizzie watched, hard eyes flicking between me and him.
Bryce said, ‘Yes, sir,’ and hung up. ‘He wants you to go directly to the field office. We’ll follow after you again, as a precaution. When you get there, wait in your car until I give you the all-clear. If you don’t see me, drive off and make contact again by telephone.’ He scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to me. ‘Get going.’
*
The address was a low-rise office building in Bunker Hill, the entrance nothing more than a scuffed brown doorway across the street from Grand Central Market. The smell of fresh fish and raw meat carried on the air from the rows of stalls, the din of commerce rising and falling like the last throes of a bad party.
As soon as I pulled over, Bryce cruised by and called ‘Clear’ through his window.
Even before we climbed out, a man who could’ve been Bryce’s cousin opened the brown door and waved us inside. He led us up two flights of stairs to a small antechamber that gave way to a larger office. Inside, Tanner was waiting by a desk that was pressed up against the length of one wall. A second, smaller, desk sat opposite, and there were box files stacked all over the floor.
Tanner gestured to an empty chair. ‘Take a seat.’ He turned his attention to the man that had greeted us. ‘Agent Caxton, will you make Mrs Yates comfortable.’
He held the door open for Lizzie to go back to the antechamber.
She looked at him and then took a seat next to me. ‘I’m not easily offended, Mr Tanner.’
Tanner looked at me.
‘Whatever we talk about in here affects both of us.’
He hesitated a minute, then signalled to Caxton to shut the door. ‘So be it.’ He retook his own seat and held his hand out. ‘Where’s the envelope?’
I held it by my side. ‘Don’t you want to ask me about Bayless?’
‘Yes. But the clock’s ticking on this.’ He took it from me and tore it open.
‘What about the warehouse?’
‘My men found bloodstains, but the body’s been removed. As expected.’
‘Why didn’t you send a man to accompany him to the goddamn payphone?’
He looked up from the envelope. ‘We’re stretched thin. Should I have sent the man who was busy standing sentry for you?’
‘You can’t turn this around on me—’
‘No? Care to tell me what you were thinking sending him out on an errand?’
I felt my face redden and looked away.
He dropped a torn piece of envelope on the desk. ‘Look, we had no reason to fear for his safety at that moment. My information indicated no imminent threat.’ He reached inside, but stopped. ‘He was going down the block to a payphone for Christ’s sake.’
He looked down again and flicked through the contents, pulling out a handwritten page. The script was precise if not tidy. ‘Well, this isn’t Siegel’s writing. Who handed this to you?’
‘Gilardino.’
‘Doubtful it’d be his doing. So Rosenberg then.’ He said it to Caxton.
‘You say that as if it’s important,’ I said.
Tanner waved it off, skim reading. ‘Hell, they’re escalating.’ He handed the sheet to Caxton and rifled through the rest of the contents.
‘Tanner?’
‘They’re going for Lyle Kosoff, the producer at MGM. Fifty thousand dollars.’
I recognised the name but knew nothing about the man beyond what made the press. ‘What’s the lever?’
He started to say something but then made a point of looking at Lizzie and handed me one of the pictures instead, face down. ‘See for yourself. Safe to say that’s not his wife.’
The snap was an action shot, the two bodies a blur, but the man’s face was clear enough to be identifiable to anyone knew him. He appeared to be naked, as did the young black woman he’d hit the mattresses with. I handed it back.
Tanner took it and slipped it away, his eyes widening when he looked at the next shot. ‘Generous with his affections.’ He flashed it to Caxton and then passed it to me. It showed Kosoff tangled between two black women. ‘For smart men, some of these hotshots act dumb as rocks.’
I startled at the sound of the office door opening suddenly. Bryce and Hendricks walked in, nodding to Tanner and taking up a place behind me.
I caught my breath and turned back to Tanner. ‘What do you intend to do?’
He sat back in his chair, gripping the envelope. ‘We’ll need to start planning. He has too high a profile to whisk off the street like Bayless.’
‘For all the good it did him.’
I regretted it as soon as I said it.
Tanner glared at me but let it pass. ‘He has means, maybe he can be convinced to vamoose of his own accord until this blows over.’
I leaned forward in my seat, my throat dry. ‘Rosenberg said he’d come for me if I didn’t go through with it again.’ I held his stare and gestured towards Lizzie with a flick of my eyes. He gave a slight nod, indicating he understood the danger was to her too.
He angled himself away from us, resting his arms on the desk. He crumpled the torn piece of envelope, thinking. ‘In the first instance, Kosoff has to be informed.’
‘You intend to alert him?’
He glanced at Caxton. ‘Yates, I know you’re not going to want to hear this, but it ought to come from you. For appearances’ sake.’
‘Whose appearances?’
‘All parties.’
I fixed my eyes on the side of his face. ‘Your first concern is still protecting your operation, isn’t it?’
‘We’re making fair progress, I won’t have that compromised unnecessarily.’
‘Listen to what you’re saying; a man died unnecessarily, doesn’t that count for anything?’
‘Precisely my point. I took a risk stepping out of the shadows, it didn’t pay dividends.’
I shook my head in frustration. ‘Go arrest Rosenberg and Gilardino, I’ll testify against them in any court you want. The whole scheme goes under.’
He took a deep breath. ‘Understand: I sincerely regret what’s come to pass, and I want them held to account for what happened to Mr Bayless – and they will be, god willing. But there are two problems with arresting them now. First, it doesn’t get the Bureau to Siegel, and second it’s your word against theirs. They’ll have alibis lined up, no doubt, but more to the point, it leaves you as the only witness they’d need to eliminate to scuttle the case. The same situation as with Abe Reles – and you told me yourself you saw what they did to him.’
Reles: the button man who turned on Siegel to save himself – and ended up dead. I felt Lizzie’s hand reach for mine in my lap, kept my eyes on Tanner. ‘We’re at their mercy already.’
‘You would be acutely so.’
I leaned forward. ‘A murder charge is no use to you because you’d have to give the case to the LAPD. You’re putting your pride before a man’s life.’
‘Siegel owns half of the LAPD.’
‘So find the half he doesn’t. Do you understand what these men are capable of? I saw what they did to Trent Bayless, he couldn’t even open his eyes to see the bullet coming.’
‘You’re saying he was tortured?’
‘Severely.’
The two agents looked at each other, a note of alarm passing between them. ‘For what purpose?’
‘How should I know? Maybe because they’re animals.’
He was shaking his head. ‘That doesn’t fit observed behaviour. They wanted to know something. Could he have told them about our involvement?’
I went cold at the suggestion, a possibility I hadn’t considered. I glanced at the window, seeing nothing but the flat roof of the market hall over the street.
‘Yates?’
‘I don’t know. Rosenberg knew about me telling him to run. Bayless told them that much.’
Tanner folded one arm across his chest and ran his hand over his face – more expressive now than when I’d first told him about Bayless’ murder. ‘So it’s possible he could have told them anything.’
‘Why would they let me out alive if they knew I was talking to you? Your own men checked us for tails, so it can’t be a ruse.’
‘Much as I despise Siegel, you learn the hard way not to underestimate him.’
I got to my feet and paced to the door and back, turning it over. ‘Did we state our location in front of Bayless?’
Tanner’s eyes narrowed. ‘Not that I recall.’
‘What about after you let me out? Did you talk about it in front of him?’ I waved a finger between him and Bryce and back.
‘Yates, please.’
‘Then how do you propose they found us?’
He stood up. ‘We talked about this already, and if you’re about to start throwing stones again—’
‘Sit down, I’m just thinking aloud.’
‘He might have realised it had some value.’
Lizzie said it. All eyes turned to her.
‘The information,’ she said. ‘Mr Bayless was trying to talk his way out of his predicament. Maybe he thought he could use it as a bargaining chip if he knew where we were.’
Tanner scratched his ear. ‘That still wouldn’t explain how he came to know it in the first place.’
I glanced around the office – papers on the desk, box files. ‘You bring him up here? If he went snooping …’
Tanner waved it off – but said nothing.
‘Look, where is Siegel now?’ I said.
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Because I’m tired of playing catch-up.’
‘You think you can talk to him? Is that it?’
I put my hands in my pockets, looking at him.
‘Don’t be foolish,’ he said. ‘Besides, he travels constantly. New York, Chicago, Florida, Nevada. And you know about Arkansas …’
I thought about Hot Springs and the damage I’d done to Siegel’s operation there – the cause of the grudge. But now I needed one, I couldn’t come up with a way to hurt him; no ammunition to force him to back off. But still, it had to be there. He had enemies and he crossed lines; there would be something. There always was. ‘Forget it.’
‘I’d counsel you to do the same.’
‘Take my statement so we can be through here. Step outside with me so I can spare my wife the details.’ I looked at Caxton. ‘Would you fix the lady a cup of coffee?’
*
It’d taken more than two hours – Tanner checking and rechecking various details, Bryce sitting in and piping up with his own questions from time to time. At the end, I was left slumped in my seat feeling empty.
Tanner took me back into the main office. Lizzie looked up when we came in, a tiny fleck of red varnish on her blouse, the nail on her little finger still wet where she’d been biting it.
Tanner took out one of the photographs, and the slip of paper with Kosoff’s particulars. He placed them in a new envelope and handed it to me. ‘Approach Mr Kosoff soonest. It’s in everyone’s interest. It would be best to keep our involvement from him, at least for now. The less folk in the loop, the better.’
I pointed to the one still in his hand. ‘What about the rest?’
‘This is evidence. We’ll have it dusted for prints and so forth. We’ll need a set of yours for elimination purposes.’
I almost said I needed it to write the article for Rosenberg. Subservient, brainwashed; Gilardino’s hooks even deeper into me than I realised. ‘What would you have me tell him? That he’s been targeted for extortion but to pay it no mind?’
‘Don’t be flippant.’
‘Flippant? I just watched a man get killed—’ I closed my eyes, Lizzie standing right there, the line too explicit, wishing I could take it back. ‘I’m asking how you want me to approach this.’
‘In the first instance, he just needs to be informed. We’ve got twenty-four hours, maybe thirty-six, before time becomes a pressure – gives me a chance to run it up the chain of command and formulate a plan. And there’s always the chance he chooses to pay.’
‘What would that solve? It only serves to embolden them.’
‘It buys us time, and ensconces you deeper in Siegel’s outfit. It wouldn’t be the worst outcome. It’s not as if Kosoff would want for the money.’
‘I can’t believe—’ I threw my hands up.
‘Focus on the greater good, Yates. Keep it at the forefront of your mind. There may come a point where you have to publish the article they want.’
‘You’ve seen what the alternative is. I’m talking about the last resort.’
‘You’re facilitating his scheme. At what point are you going to take your damn handcuffs out and start arresting people?’
‘When I have a case. We’ve been through this.’
I pointed to the envelope in his hand. ‘You have a case.’
‘I have a start. And, thanks to you, an opportunity.’
We stood there, staring at each other. Waiting for the other to blink. Then he held his hands up, palms out. ‘Let’s not meet trouble more than halfway. This is a pressured situation, take it an hour at a time. Inform Kosoff and leave it at that. It’s not for you to advise him how to proceed.’
I stared at him a minute longer, then turned away. I reached for Lizzie’s hand to help her to her feet. ‘We need to talk alone a moment. Have you arranged somewhere for us to stay tonight?’
He nodded to Caxton, who picked up the telephone. ‘We’ll make a start on that now. Make yourself comfortable.’
We stepped back into the antechamber and I closed the door. Lizzie made to speak, but I moved her away from the frosted glass, my finger to my lips. Then I pointed to the staircase leading to the exit, mouthed, ‘GO.’
I kept hold of her hand, eased open the outer door and led her down to the street.
*
I fumbled for the ignition, looking at Lizzie. ‘Check their window. Is Tanner watching?’
She twisted her neck to look out and up. ‘The light’s reflecting on the pane, I can’t make it out.’
The engine caught and we took off with a jerk. I pointed through the windshield to the familiar sedan parked across the street. ‘There. That’s Bryce’s car. Watch it as long as you can.’
She swivelled in her seat as we sped past it.
‘Anything?’
‘I can’t see them.’
I pushed the car on and made a turn to get out of their line of sight, Lizzie having to brace herself against the swerve. Back on the straight, she righted herself in her seat.
‘Are you okay?’
She nodded, looking stunned.
‘It’s best they don’t know our whereabouts. For the time being.’
She said nothing, a loaded silence. I glanced over, saw her watching me, wheels turning behind her eyes.
‘We can contact Tanner whenever we need. It’s safer this way—’
‘I think you did the right thing.’
I glanced again, her face taut. ‘Then what’s spooked you?’ The question seemed ludicrous as soon as it left my mouth.
‘Something Agent Caxton said. When he brought the coffee while you were gone. It seemed innocuous, but now I think about it …’
‘Liz?’
‘He asked if I had family in the city, or if you did.’
‘To stay with?’
‘He didn’t say.’ She turned to the road, her voice distant. ‘Maybe I took it wrong.’
I checked the rearview again, everything behind us a blur.
*
It was dusk by the time we pulled up at the Pacific Journal building. A cool wind was blowing off the ocean, the sun taking the last of the day’s warmth away with it.
We went straight to Acheson’s office. His secretary had left for the day but he was inside, the door open. An oversized angle lamp illuminated his desk at point blank range, the only light in the room. The sky outside was dark enough that I could see my reflection in the window behind him; the image was dim and distorted in the black glass, rendering me insubstantial.
He got to his feet as soon as he saw us in the doorway, his eyes bright. He made his way over and pumped my hand, then took Lizzie by the shoulders, causing her to break into a smile. ‘It’s tough to surprise an old man like me, but this is a good one. Come in.’ He waved us inside and closed the door. ‘How are you?’
‘Still walking and talking.’
‘That’s more than some of these hacks manage on a good day.’ He said it with a humourless grin, leaning on the door handle for support. He looked from me to Lizzie and back, a note of hesitation in his manner. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way but … is it safe for you to be here?’
‘As safe as anywhere else. Anyway, we’ll be gone in no time.’
‘That’s not how I meant it.’
‘I know.’
He held my stare a moment, then blinked. ‘Good. Did you speak to Detective Belfour?’
I nodded, flopping down onto a chair. ‘The name was a put-up. He’s FBI.’
He bulged his cheek with his tongue. ‘What in god’s name are you wrapped up in?’
‘It’s better you don’t know. We ducked out on him and his men, I’d guess they’ll contact you at some point, so if you could see your way to forgetting you saw us …’
‘You’re on the run from them?’
‘No. Trying to stay ahead of them.’
‘Doesn’t that amount to the same thing?’ I started to reply but he waved me off. ‘It’s better if I don’t know. I’m just glad to see you.’ He looked at Lizzie. ‘Both of you.’
‘It’s all Siegel, Buck.’ I cradled my face in my hands and rubbed my eyes, fighting exhaustion. ‘It all goes back to Siegel. Did you manage to track him down?’
He levered himself off the door handle and crossed back to his desk. He opened his top drawer and rustled through it, finding the paper he was looking for and placing it under the light. He stared at it for a moment and I wondered what he was thinking. Then he looked up at me. ‘I don’t mind telling you, I wrestled with whether to relay this or not.’
‘He finds us wherever we go. You’d only be levelling the playing field.’
He brought the slip of paper over to me, favouring his right hip. ‘It’s not what you think.’
I got up to take it from him, waiting for him to finish.
‘He’s in Nevada. You’ve heard of Las Vegas?’
I nodded once, but didn’t understand. I knew of the place – a railroad stop in the Mojave desert that had legalised gambling to scalp the Boulder Dam construction crews a decade back. ‘What’s his business out there?’
‘Purportedly, building a hotel-casino.’
I looked at Lizzie, could sense the words had sparked the same thought as me: Hot Springs. ‘Is it legitimate?’
‘I couldn’t say. He’s a lifetime criminal; would that give him more or less incentive to try going straight?’
I shook my head and looked away, no answer to offer.
‘Regardless, I spoke with Peter Brown at the Las Vegas Sun – do you know Peter?’
I shook my head.
‘He says this “monstrosity” – his word – is due to open in a fortnight, so Siegel pays a visit to the site most days. If you really are minded to speak to him, that’s your avenue.’ He stepped back, pressing his knuckle to his lips. ‘Charlie, at the risk of labouring the point, I would urge caution.’
I put the address in my pocket. ‘What would you do in my shoes?’
‘I don’t know the ins and outs, I’m not best placed to comment. What I would say is that if you’re running from the Bureau and towards Siegel, something seems very amiss to me.’
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lizzie look away from him and hang her head.
*
I stopped by my desk on the way out, to make use of the telephone. The newsroom was sparsely populated at that hour, but still a few friendly faces came over to exchange greetings. Buck was discreet, so I doubted he’d told them much, and there were unspoken questions in people’s faces – but none came right out to ask where the hell we’d disappeared to for weeks on end. Suited me that way – and Lizzie kept it all at bay with idle talk about our time upstate.
My desk was overflowing with newspapers, unopened mail and message slips, the telephone buried. I set about clearing it all away, but as I swept the messages to one side, the one at the top of the pile caught my eye:
Hector King, Los Angeles Times, telephoned to speak to you Wed Dec 15, 1250hrs (Working for the enemy now, Charlie??)
Earlier that day. A bolt fired through me, surprise that he’d bothered to follow up on my request, hope that one of his legmen had turned up something on the girls. I dialled the Times, twisting the cord around my finger, untwisting it again. The operator tried to connect me to King’s extension, but came back saying there was no answer. I hung up, wheels spinning under me. I stuffed the message slip in my pocket, picked up the phone again and dialled a different number, distracted now – by Hector King at first, but then by thoughts of Las Vegas.
I could be there by morning. Tiredness weighed on me, the prospect of more hours behind the wheel, racing across the desert. And if I went, then what? Pull up at Siegel’s joint and tell him to go straight to hell? I thought about his eyes in the back room at Ciglio’s, and Rosenberg’s warnings about how much Siegel wanted me dead. What was to stop him putting a bullet in me and Lizzie on the spot? Bury us in a hole in the desert where even the vultures wouldn’t trouble to look. The futility of it all brought on a lunatic notion: set his hotel ablaze, watch it go up in flames. The ashes of his master plan scattered on the wind—
A voice answered, cutting off the madness. A bad line. ‘Mr Kosoff’s office.’
I was at a loss for words, realising I’d given no thought to what I would say. ‘This is Charlie Yates from the Los Angeles Times, I’d like to speak to Mr Kosoff.’
‘Mr Kosoff isn’t taking unsolicited calls. Are you a reporter, Mr Yates?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Switchboard can direct your enquiry to our press office. Hold, please.’
It went to a dial tone and then the operator answered. I hung up. I called his secretary’s line again.
‘Mr Kosoff’s—’
‘This is Charlie Yates calling on behalf of Benjamin Siegel. Please tell Mr Kosoff the matter is urgent.’ I felt a pang of disgust at myself – using Siegel’s name to open doors, as though I were a proud flunky.
‘I’m sorry, sir, but Mr Kosoff is not available to journalists. I can pass a message?’
I looked up at Lizzie, talking to one of the clerical girls and feigning enthusiasm for her end of a conversation about Cary Grant’s new flick.
‘Sir?’
I looked at the paper in front of me, Kosoff’s home address in Bel Air written underneath the telephone number I’d dialled. ‘Tell Mr Kosoff I’ll meet him at his office. What time will he be there until, please?’
‘Sir, that won’t be possible—’
‘What time, please?’
‘Mr Kosoff will be leaving in the next twenty minutes, he won’t be receiving anyone this evening—’
I rang off. I could doorstep him if I made it to his pad in Bel Air before he did. I signalled Lizzie to wind up her chat and made my way over to the door, Las Vegas looming ever larger in my mind.
*
Kosoff’s manse was hidden behind ten-foot hedgerows, a set of black iron gates across the driveway. It was as I’d hoped for – the best chance at getting an audience with him.
I parked two cars back from his place and checked my watch. Thirty-five minutes since the call to his secretary. Figure a half-hour for him to make it to Bel Air from the studio – if she’d been telling the truth about his movements. I climbed out and walked over to where I could peer up the drive, hoping his car wasn’t already there. There was a double garage attached to the right side of the property, a chance it was stashed away and he was already home and out of reach.
I went back to the car and slid in next to Lizzie, brooding on how long to play wait and see.
‘What are your thoughts?’ she said.
Kosoff. Las Vegas. Nancy Hill and Julie Desjardins slipping ever further away. ‘A mess.’
‘What Mr Acheson said is on your mind, isn’t it?’
I nodded, eyes forward, watching the quiet street.
‘Are you giving serious consideration to it? Las Vegas?’
I took a silent breath. ‘If I am?’
She twisted her fingers together. ‘I know you want to confront this, but you’d risk forcing his hand in ways I can’t bear to think about.’
‘I know.’
‘But you’re thinking about it anyway.’
I propped my elbow against the window and shielded my eyes against the glare of the streetlight. Hiding.
‘Charlie?’
‘Right now they hold all the cards, and I refuse to believe there’s no way to redress that.’
She put her hand on my forearm. ‘Don’t talk that way. Please. It sounds too much like you’re saying you’d rather go down fighting.’
‘That’s not how I meant to come off.’
‘I know. I’m just … I don’t see a way through this. I keep telling myself not to panic, but it’s becoming impossible to convince myself.’
I put my hand on hers. ‘I’ll never let them touch you. Never.’
‘I’m not just worried for me.’
A pair of headlamps cut through the night, rounding the corner at the end of the block and coming towards us. A Lincoln Town Car, the man behind the wheel in a driver’s hat and getup. I reached for my door latch.
The Lincoln slowed, turning in to stop at the gate. The driver climbed out and made to open up and I was already on my feet and darting towards the car. Kosoff was in the backseat, and I was at his window before the driver even noticed me. Kosoff looked up sharply when he saw me, and I pressed the photograph of him and the black woman to the glass. ‘We need to talk.’
‘Hey—’ The driver took a faltering step towards me, an older man, caught in two minds.
Kosoff looked at the image but his expression didn’t change. Then he cracked the window. ‘Who are you?’
The driver came over now, but Kosoff signalled for him to back off.
I took the photograph away. ‘I need a moment of your time. Is there somewhere we can talk?’
He held my stare a moment, then frowned. ‘Are you armed?’
‘What? No, I’m a reporter—’
‘Open your coat.’
Slowly, I flared my suit jacket.
‘Get in.’ He reached across to open the door on the other side.
The driver watched me go around the car, incredulous, his look how I felt. I pulled the door all the way open, lowered myself inside and closed it again. When I did, Kosoff raised a pistol.
I spun away, scrabbling for the door handle. ‘Wait—’
He grabbed my coat and wrenched me back. ‘Sit still, or this just might go off.’ He snatched the photograph from my fingers. ‘Where did you get this?’
I took a moment before turning back to him, shallow breaths to steady myself, hoping Lizzie couldn’t see the gun in his hand. The piece was tiny – like a starter’s pistol.
He was studying the photograph. ‘Benjamin Siegel wants fifty thousand dollars from you or this goes public. You have until Saturday.’
He glanced up as I said it and then looked at the image again, slight movements in his jaw as if he were chewing the skin inside his mouth. Then he dropped it on the seat between us. ‘She wasn’t even a good lay.’ He rested the revolver on his thigh, grasping it by the cylinder, on its side but still pointed in my direction. ‘Since when did Bugsy send men without heaters?’
‘It’s the truth. Use your eyes, I’m not about to waste time trying to convince you.’
He planted his fist on the photograph, creasing and warping it as he shifted his weight to lean closer. ‘Then you go back to him in your five-dollar suit and tell him he can kiss my ass. Word gets around, his troubles are an open secret.’
‘What troubles?’
‘The kind of trouble has him trying me with a waste of skin like you and a laughable threat like that. There’s not a rag in this town would Judas me.’ He took up the photograph and tore it, tore it again and again, tossed the pieces at my chest. ‘And what else is, you can tell him there won’t be anyone under an MGM contract showing up to launch his goddamn casino either. That bastard has a short memory. See who schleps to Nevada when there’s only George fucking Raft to pal around with.’
I brushed the shredded pieces off my lap. ‘Mr Kosoff, I don’t work for Ben Siegel. Believe me when I say I’m here under duress, so if you could elaborate on his troubles …’
He stared at me, rubbing the revolver up and down his leg like a nervous tick. ‘You have to be putting me on. Who are you?’
‘My name’s Yates, I’m a reporter.’
‘Twenty-two years I been making movies, and I never heard of you.’
‘I’ve been in New York City.’ Another lifetime now. ‘Please, if you’ve got something on Siegel, I’ll take it.’
He was silent a moment, the air in the car cool and still; the smell of seat leather and his hair lacquer. ‘There are more photographs?’
I nodded.
‘Siegel has them?’
I thought of Colt Tanner and the envelope – a complication I couldn’t admit to, still not convinced by the decision to keep silent on his behalf. ‘Moe Rosenberg. Siegel’s right—’
‘I know Moe, shit-heel that he is.’ He looked out of the front window, towards the house. ‘And your game is to play both sides against each other, is that it? For a cut, or for a story?’
I shook my head, watching the gun on his leg – back and forth, back and forth, betraying the cracks in his front. ‘The only thing I want is to get out from under Siegel’s boot.’ I followed his eye line, lights showing in the house at the top of the drive, got an inkling of what was worrying him – not public disgrace but private. ‘If you want to get at Siegel, we’re on the same side here. You won’t find a better ally.’
‘Than some two-bit hack no one ever heard of? What paper are you with anyway?’
‘The Pacific Journal.’
He flicked his wrist, dismissing it. ‘I’d find better help at the dime store.’
‘Look, I have no intention of writing the story, but here’s a tip: this isn’t the first time they’ve run this gig and last time out, when the mark acted up, Siegel put a package in the man’s mailbox, addressed to his wife.’
He tore his eyes away from the house as I told the lie, realising he’d given himself away and confirming what I thought.
‘So my advice to you would be to whisk Mrs Kosoff away to Palm Springs or someplace first thing in the morning. Have someone monitor your mail while you’re gone. Hell, I’ll do it if you want.’
‘You got a nerve. Bringing my wife—’
‘You’re too smart for stage outrage and it’s a little late to be playing the devoted husband.’ I pointed to the ugly confetti on the floor. ‘I’m willing to help you out. All I want is information in return.’
He breathed out through his nose, taking his time. ‘Siegel owes markers all over town. He’s been squeezing loans out of every talent dumb enough to entertain him, knowing they’ll never have the stones to call them in.’
‘He’s a racketeer, that’s another racket. So what?’
‘So what, is the debts run to six figures according to what I hear – even allowing for the inevitable exaggeration – and he’s burning bridges left, right and centre on account of it. He’s gone to a lot of effort cultivating movie star types since he got out here, and now he’s throwing it all away for a hundred grand? It doesn’t take Einstein to see what’s going on.’
Siegel hustling movie stars and extorting studio bosses. A hotel-casino in the desert, construction in the home straight. His resources were considerable – hard even to estimate – but maybe this was an overreach even for him. ‘What do you hear about the casino?’
‘What he puts out there. That the Flamingo’s going to be the best hotel in the United States, that it’s going to put Las Vegas on the national map, blah blah blah. It’s the rebop Billy Wilkerson started up about before Bugsy muscled in on his stake. Except no one’s buying it because it’s sending him broke and it isn’t anywhere close to finished yet. He can go to hell if he thinks I’m about to toss my money into the pit. Son of a bitch.’
I reached for the door, setting myself to leave.
‘Slow down, we’re not through yet. How many more are there?’ He motioned to the remains of the photo.
‘I didn’t count. Ten or thereabouts.’
‘You have a set of the prints?’
‘That was all I had.’
‘Tell me the truth.’
‘That was all.’
‘I want the negatives.’ He was looking at the house again now, shaking his head, disbelieving. ‘I want every copy. I’ve never claimed to be a saint but she doesn’t deserve this.’
*
I drove us to a payphone and called Hector King at the Times again – this time getting one of the night shift, confirming he’d called it a day already. I talked the man into giving up King’s home number, then cut the call and re-dialled. I tapped the side of the kiosk double-time, watching Lizzie in the car, her eyes glinting in the dark. A moonless night, the stars smothered by the clouds.
‘King residence.’
‘Hector, it’s Charlie Yates.’
‘Charlie, you got my message.’
‘Yeah, thanks for following up.’
‘I don’t think it’s news you’ll want to hear.’
My chest went hollow. ‘Tell me.’
‘You see the story about the body they found?’
‘No.’
He sighed, reluctant. ‘A girl dumped on a stretch of waste ground, beaten and strangled according to the talk coming from the scene. County coroner’s report is expected in the next couple days, that’ll tell the tale.’
My chest collapsing, a memory rising – Texarkana, a cavalcade of police lights racing past me. ‘When?’
‘Yesterday. Tom Pence was out there trying to swing an interview with Senator McCarran when he picked up on it from the locals. A piece of luck, really—’ He stopped himself. ‘Sorry, poor choice of words.’
Dread filling me, memories I didn’t want, living it again. ‘Here, over here. We found another one.’ ‘Is it …?’
A pause, static on the line. I watched Lizzie watching me from the car, her eyes wide now, placing a pale hand on the dashboard. Sensing something was wrong.
‘I don’t know for sure, I don’t have all the facts. But the locals have named her as Diana Desjardins. The name … well, you see why I thought to call.’
‘Did Pence get a look at her?’
‘He said he thought she broadly matched the description you gave me …’
I kicked the kiosk – once, twice, hearing the car door thrown open, Lizzie bursting out and running across to me. Not sure I could take any more. Surprised to hear my own voice: ‘Where did they find her?’
‘Las Vegas, Nevada. As I say, it’s pure happenstance Tom was in town—’