‘Eddie?’
‘You all right, Judy?’
‘Why, yes,’ she said. ‘I had a wonderful talk with that young man you left here earlier. He’s a big fan.’
‘You have lots of fans, Judy,’ I said. ‘I need him there to protect you.’
‘Well, he’s outside, doing just that. He’s kind of small, isn’t he? But, then, Mickey was also short, and he’s the biggest small man I ever met.’
I knew she was referring to Mickey Rooney.
‘He’ll do,’ I said. ‘Judy, we talked with Mark Herron. I’m afraid he wasn’t very helpful.’
‘I–I’m sure he tried his best,’ she said. ‘Maybe if I talked to him …’
‘You go ahead and do that,’ I said, ‘and then Jerry and I will have another talk with him.’
‘All right. I’ll do that as soon as I hang up, Eddie.’
‘Good.’
‘What else are you doing?’
‘We’re going to keep lookin’, Judy.’
‘Come to the house for dinner again.’
‘Yes,’ I said. I’d already decided it would be a good idea to talk to her each night, until the matter was resolved … somehow.
‘Can that young man come in and eat?’ she asked, hopefully. ‘He reminds me of Mickey.’
‘Really?’ I didn’t see it, unless he had red hair beneath his fedora. ‘Sure.’
‘Wonderful,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you and Jerry later. And I’ll call Mark right now.’
‘See you later,’ I said, and hung up.
‘What’s up?’ Jerry asked.
‘She likes Kenny Boyd.’
‘Really?’ Jerry thought a moment. ‘Probably because he reminds her of Mickey Rooney.’
‘What? You, too?’
‘Well, they’re both little guys.’
‘I don’t see it,’ I said.
‘Maybe he’s got red hair.’
‘We’ll find out tonight. She wants us all to come to dinner.’
‘That’s OK with me,’ Jerry said. ‘Her cook’s pretty good.’
‘Yeah, she is.’
‘What’s on your mind, Mr G.?’
‘What?’
‘You look like somethin’s worryin’ ya.’
‘To tell you the truth,’ I said, ‘I’m just wonderin’ if we’re chasin’ our tail on this, while there are men out there tryin’ to figure out a way to kill me.’
‘You got Danny workin’ on it,’ Jerry said. ‘And maybe Mr Entratter.’
‘I know,’ I said, ‘but the more we come up empty on Judy, the more I think we should be out there lookin’ for whoever put that contract out on me.’
‘Who do you think it could be?’
‘You know,’ I said, ‘for a few minutes I thought it might be Hargrove. Crazy, huh?’
‘He pretty much hates your guts,’ Jerry said, ‘but he hates mine, too. I think he’d put out a hit on both of us.’
‘You’re probably right. So not him. Then who?’
‘Who have you pissed off that much?’
‘I’ve lain awake in bed a few nights tryin’ to figure that one out,’ I said. ‘I’m not a cop, I haven’t put criminals away.’
‘You’ve helped Mr S. and Dino out over the past few years,’ he said. ‘Sammy Davis, too. Maybe somebody don’t like your relationship with them.’
‘You think this is jealousy?’
Jerry shrugged. ‘If it’s somebody’s husband, it’s because of jealousy,’ he pointed out.
‘A husband would come after me himself.’
‘I’ve known jealous hubbies to hire hitmen.’
‘Maybe – but to put out an open contract? For that much money? That would have to be a rich husband, and I haven’t been with any rich women in the past – well, hardly ever! I think a husband is out.’
He sat down across from me. ‘What about the Kennedys?’ he asked, raising his eyebrows. ‘They got the money.’
‘I don’t think I’ve pissed off Joe Kennedy that much.’ Had I?
‘I don’t wanna say this but …’
‘But what?’
‘You got mob connections, Mr G.’
‘You think Sam Giancana put out an open contract on me?’ I asked.
Jerry shrugged. ‘Why don’t we ask him?’
I was wondering if Jack Entratter had already done that, decided to call him and find out.
‘Have I what?’
‘Asked Momo if he put out a contract on me?’
‘You think I can just call Sam and ask him that?’
‘I don’t know, Jack,’ I said. ‘Can you?’
‘I don’t know what you think, Eddie, but Momo and I aren’t asshole buddies. I’ve put the word out where I can, and I’m waitin’ to hear, but nothin’ yet.’
‘OK, Jack.’
‘Eddie!’ he said, before I could hang up.
‘Yeah?’
‘If things get really bad,’ he said, ‘maybe you could get Frank to ask him.’
‘I haven’t told Frank a thing about this, Jack,’ I said, ‘but you’re right. If things get real bad, I’ll ask Frank.’
I hung up, thinking that somebody had put up a butt load of money for an open contract on my life. How much worse could things get?
We talked it over a bit more, and then I decided to call it quits. Jerry went into his bedroom for a nap; I turned on the TV and made some coffee. We’d talked to both of Judy’s managers and her husband-to-be. Who was left?
When Jerry came back out a couple of hours later, rubbing his eyes, the TV was off and I was just staring at the wall.
‘Sid Luft,’ I said.
‘Mr G., you think Sid Luft put a hit out on you?’ he asked.
‘No,’ I said, ‘I’m thinkin’ about Judy’s problem now. We have to talk to the ex-husband.’
‘All of ’em?’
‘Nope,’ I said, ‘just the last one. Sid Luft.’
‘Where do we find him?’
‘That’s what we’ll ask Judy tonight,’ I replied. ‘Also, we should probably talk to someone at the CBS studio, and her record label.’
‘All good ideas, Mr G., but right now I’m kinda hungry.’
‘For once,’ I said, ‘I’m with you, Jerry. Let’s go.’
We went out to the front of the hotel and saw the limo sitting there, Greg behind the wheel. He must have been watching for us because he popped out immediately to open the door. Before coming around to our side, he slammed the driver’s side door …
And the car went up in a ball of flames.