41

THE MOVIE

An aerial shot of Las Vegas zooms down to a quiet neighborhood on the west side, and then the camera settles on the exterior of the modest Bradford ranch house. A 1970 Chevrolet Impala pulls up into the driveway. Maxwell and Jane Bradford get out of the car. Jane opens the back door, reaches in, and pulls out her daughter, now almost two years old. As the family goes in through the front door of the house, we pan across the street to a 1971 Ford Tempo parked at the curb. Blair, in her guise as “Penny Miller,” with sunglasses and a scarf, watches.

Her voice-over tells us, “Time crawled by, but I remained in Las Vegas and lived off the proceeds of selling Eldon’s old coins, one by one. By the year 1975, things had settled down a little. I hadn’t seen Buddy Franco in months, nor had I received any indication that the mob was keeping tabs on my daughter’s family. Franco stopped showing up at the Sunshine Diner, where I’d always spotted him. Had he and Justin Hirsch given up? Or was I just blind? Maybe I’d gotten careless. Whatever—I began to wonder if I could take the risk of getting to know Jane and her family in person. I really wanted to hold my granddaughter again!”

Blair, carrying a wrapped present under one arm, rang the doorbell and waited. The house was not in the best of neighborhoods. A good portion of the African American population lived in North Las Vegas, and, as it was in most cities in the United States, minorities had a more difficult time making things work. Crime was an issue, along with low income, systemic racism, and the whole nine yards.

Jane answered the door. “Yes?” she asked, somewhat surprised to see a white woman standing on her porch.

Blair had known she was off work that day. Maxwell was at the casino on his shift. “Hi,” she said with a smile, “I was wondering if you might need a nanny? Someone to look after your child and fix your meals or whatever?”

Jane looked at her as if she were mad. “We can’t afford a nanny, but thanks.” She started to close the door, but Blair stopped her.

“Wait! I … I’m not looking for any pay. In fact,” she handed over the wrapped package. “I know your daughter’s birthday is around the corner, and I brought her something to play with.”

Jane tried to give it back. “I can’t accept this. Who are you? Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“I’m Penny. I, uhm, I used to go to your church sometimes. Maybe you’ve seen me there.”

“Well, I can’t take the present. Thank you anyway.”

“Please. It’s a gift. I want her to have it.”

Jane looked at her sideways. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”

Blair shrugged. “No reason. You seem like a very nice family. You have such a cute daughter.” She pushed the present back into Jane’s arms. The woman attempted to shove it away.

“No, lady, I don’t want it!”

“It’s for your girl!” Blair practically broke into tears. “It … it was for my own granddaughter, but she died … in a … in a car accident. Please take it. It’s her birthday present. Please?” She abruptly turned and walked away, not giving her daughter the chance to protest.

“Hey! Wait!”

“Too late, dear!” Blair got in her Ford, started it, and backed out into the street. A bewildered Jane just stood on her doorstep, the present in her arms, watching the crazy woman drive away.

Tears welled in Blair’s eyes as she pulled out onto Pecos Road and gained speed.

Damn you, Blair! she told herself. That had been a mistake. What had she been thinking? Be a nanny? No wonder Jane had thought she was a mad, old white woman. Perhaps she was.

The man wearing a Los Angeles Dodgers cap noted what had just occurred at the small house on Reynolds Avenue. He sat in an unmarked white van, sweating profusely in the Nevada heat; at least he was being paid handsomely for watching the home.

Old man Tonino would reward him even more for the information he had just obtained. It was the third time he’d seen the Ford Tempo on the block, and in each instance a white woman had been the driver. That was more than coincidence.

He started the van and drove away, turned on Pecos, and stopped at the closest gas station. He got out of the vehicle and went to the pay phone that was on the side of the building. He dialed the number he knew by heart. When the line was answered, he said, “It’s Delbert. Tell Tonino I saw the woman again, third time. Fits the age and description. No, I wasn’t close enough to get the license plate. But she’ll be back.”

Delbert hung up and returned to the van, ready to continue the surveillance. Tonino would get the word back to Franco.

They wanted that woman dead.