FIFTY-TWO
We went back to the Sands. Jerry went to his room to make some calls. I went to Jack Entratter’s office. He wasn’t there.
‘He’s on the casino floor,’ his girl said. ‘Somebody was cheating.’
‘Where?’ I hoped it wasn’t any of my tables. If I’d been in the pit I would have noticed it.
‘I’m not sure, Mr Gianelli.’
I searched my memory. That was probably the only time she’d ever called me by name. It was progress. I didn’t want to push it.
‘OK, thanks.’
I took the elevator back down, crossed the hotel lobby and entered the casino, looking for Jack.
I found him, but not near the tables, where I thought I would.
‘Jack,’ I said, ‘what are you doin’?’
‘Hear that?’
I listened. One of the slot machines was paying off, nickels pinging off the metal tray.
‘That’s the fifth jackpot today,’ he said. ‘Same machine. I’m tryin’ to figure out how she’s doin’ it.’
The ‘she’ was a seventy-year-old, gray-haired grandmother who was happily scooping the nickels out of the tray and dumping them in her purse, which was almost as big as a suitcase.
‘Five jackpots?’ I asked.
He nodded.
‘She’s gonna need help carrying them out.’
‘I’ll help her,’ he growled.
‘What are you gonna do, kneecap her?’
He gave me a dirty look.
‘What are you doin’ here? Are you in trouble?’
‘No,’ I said, ‘but I’m still workin’ on Bing’s problem.’
‘Frank came in today,’ he said. ‘You got your tickets for tonight?’
‘Yeah, I got ’em.’
‘Good, ’cause I don’t wanna disappoint him.’
‘You goin’?’
‘You know I don’t go to shows in other places.’
‘Yeah, but you’re goin’ to this one, right?’
He frowned, like he was in pain, and said, ‘Yeah.’
‘OK, look,’ I said, ‘forget about grandma for a minute. I got a question.’
‘Go ahead, ask.’ He folded his arms and kept his eyes on the old lady, but he was listening.
‘You ever heard of a guy named Vincent DeStefano?’
He forgot about the grandma and looked at me.
‘Where did you hear that name?’
‘Came across it today.’
‘In relation to what?’
‘The murder of the horse guy out in Red Rock Canyon. Why, you know ’im?’
‘I need a drink,’ he said. ‘Come on.’
He gave the slot machine lady one last look, then turned to head for the lounge. At that moment she hit again and he hunched his shoulders as the nickels started pouring out.
We got seated at a table in the lounge. It was late afternoon and starting to get busy. Didi dispensed with the dirty looks because I was with Jack. We both ordered bourbon.
‘OK,’ he said, ‘listen up. You gotta stay away from Vince DeStefano.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, I’d tell you because I said so, but I don’t think that would do it . . . would it?’ He gave me a hopeful look.
‘No.’
‘I didn’t think so.’
Didi came with our drinks. We leaned back and let her put them on the table.
‘Thanks, doll,’ Jack said.
‘Sure, Mr Entratter.’
‘She’s cute,’ he said, watching her walk away. ‘You should try tappin’ that.’
I stared at him.
‘You already did,’ he said. ‘Why do I even talk?’
‘DeStefano, Jack,’ I said, sipping my drink.
‘Damn it, Eddie, how do you get yourself into these situations?’
‘Excuse me, Jack,’ I said, ‘but most of the time I’m mindin’ my own business in my pit and you get me involved in these situations.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ he said, rubbing his face with his left hand and picking up his drink with his right. ‘OK, tell me how you got on to DeStefano . . .’