‘Why the hell not?’
‘Because something’s going on,’ I said, ‘and I want to find out what it is before I give Frank the all clear.’
‘You’re protecting him?’
‘I hope I’m protecting us all,’ I said.
‘From what?’ she asked.
‘That’s what I’m hoping you’ll tell me.’
She lifted the burger and bit into it — a real bite, not a dainty lady bite. Even without make-up she was easily the most beautiful woman I had ever seen eat a hamburger.
I picked up my knife and fork and cut a hunk of steak. It was a bit chewy. I’d had much better at the Sands.
‘Ava?’
‘Why do you want to get yourself involved in my problems, Eddie?’ she asked, wearily.
‘Because I want to help you.’
‘Because Frank asked you?’
‘That’s part of it.’
‘What’s the other part?’
‘Maybe it’s because I fell in love with you when I saw One Touch of Venus,’ I said, ‘or it could be the shower scene in Mogambo.’
She finished chewing, swallowed and smiled.
‘Is any of that fucking true?’
‘Well,’ I said, ‘maybe the Mogambo part.’
‘Everybody fell in love with Grace Kelly in that movie,’ she said.
‘Oh, not everybody,’ I said. ‘Definitely not me.’
She popped a French fry in her mouth and said, ‘You’re sweet.’
‘And you’re being evasive.’
‘I’m not,’ she said. ‘I’m trying to eat.’ She took one more bite of the hamburger and then put it down with an air of finality.
‘Jesus, I must look a fucking sight,’ she said, suddenly.
‘Ava-’
She stood up.
‘I have to get dressed and put my face on,’ she said. She headed for the bedroom.
‘What about your burger?’
‘You finish it.’
The steak wasn’t getting any better so I grabbed her burger and took a bite. Well done. I put it down. I had a couple of fries, wondering if she had any reason to go out a window. Or maybe there were French doors from the bedroom.
Why would Ava run from me?
SEVENTEEN
I went out the front door and around to the side. It was almost dark, and the light was on in the bedroom. I peered in her window, saw her seated in front of a vanity applying her make-up, wearing only a pair of panties. I stared at her beautiful back for a few moments too long and started to feel like a peeping ton, so I quickly backed away. It seemed to suddenly get dark and I became nervous about getting jumped, like Larry, so I hurried back to the front door and went inside.
I was sitting at the table, nibbling on fries, when she came back out wearing a pair of tight blue capris and a white blouse with cropped sleeves. Her hair was still damp, but it looked like she meant it to be that way. She had done her eyes up with lashes and eye shadow, and her lips were red. She looked great.
‘Did you enjoy the view?’ she asked.
‘The view?’
‘From outside my window.’
‘I, uh, was just making sure you didn’t, uh. .’ I stammered.
‘You thought I was going to go out the fucking window?’ she asked, laughing. ‘Why the hell would I do that?’
‘I don’t know, Ava,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what you’re runnin’ from.’
‘What makes you think I’m running from anything?’ she demanded.
‘Because you’ve either been runnin’ or hidin’ since this morning,’ I said.
‘Jesus,’ she said, ‘has it only been one day?’
She sat down in an armchair.
‘I need a cigarette.’
I looked around. There was a box on a nearby table, and a lighter. I handed her one and lit it for her.
‘Thanks,’ she said, as she let out a plume of smoke.
‘How long has it been, Ava?’ I asked. ‘How long have you been running?’
She put one hand to her head.
‘Eddie, that’s just it,’ she said. ‘I really don’t know.’
‘When were you last at home? In Spain?’
‘Days ago, I guess,’ she said. ‘There’s been a lot of drinking, a lot of. . men, since I finished the shoot on Fifty-Five Days with Chuck Heston. That. . didn’t go that well. The rushes. . my skin looks like. . parchment in that movie.’
‘I doubt your skin could ever look like that, Ava,’ I said.
She glanced up at me and I wanted to fall into her eyes — as much of a cliche as that sounds. She grabbed my hand, held the back of it to her cheek.
‘You don’t think so, Eddie?’ she asked. ‘You don’t think it feels. . rough?’
I rubbed my hand along her face and said, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything smoother, or softer.’
Then I got self-conscious and pulled my hand away. She was, after all, Frank’s ex, and I was there representing him.
She drew on the cigarette again and said, ‘I decided to leave Spain for a while, travel. . Actually, that’s not true. I was approached to be in a film that Blake Edwards is shooting in Rome called The Pink Panther. The Producer, Martin Jurow, came to see me. He found me in Madrid and practically begged me to be in it. It should have been flattering, but instead it went to my head. I was. . horrible to them, demanded that they move the shoot from Rome to Madrid to accommodate me. Finally, Jurow slipped a note underneath my door.’
‘Uninviting you?’ I asked.
She nodded.
‘I can’t blame them, really,’ she said. ‘Since then I have been all over Europe, to New York, here in L.A. and then. . nothing.’
‘What do you mean, nothing?’
‘I mean, I can’t remember. I. . blacked out. And I woke up in a hotel room in Chicago.’
‘What hotel?’
‘The Drake, I think.’
‘And what else?’
‘I had. . blood on my hands.’
‘Blood? Are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘What did you do?’
‘I washed it off. I checked my clothes. There was blood there, too.’
‘Where are those clothes?’
‘I. . packed them for some reason, but when I got here I threw them in the back of the closet in the bedroom.’
‘Wait here.’
I went into the bedroom to the closet. In the back, on the floor, in a crumpled mess I found a blouse and a bra, both stained with what looked like blood. But there was also a silk nightie with blood on it, as well. And the towel she must have used to dry her hands was stained red. I wrapped the blouse, bra and nightie in the towel and left them there, then went back to her.
‘Was I dreaming that too?’ she asked.
‘No,’ I said. ‘There’s blood on them all right.’
‘Oh God. .’
I crouched down in front of her and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look me in the eyes.
‘Come on, Ava. Think. What happened?’
‘I. . don’t know. I have been thinking for the past three days. I can’t recall.’
‘All right,’ I said, ‘tell me this. How much time did you lose in this blackout?’
‘I. . I figured it was about forty hours.’
Eight hours shy of two days. A lot of damage could be done in that much time.
I was about to ask another question when there was a knock at the door.
‘Eddie!’ She became very frightened.
‘Go into the bedroom,’ I told her. ‘Stay there. It might just be a bell boy coming for the dishes, but don’t come out. You’ll be able to hear what’s being said.’
‘All right.’
She hurried into the bedroom, leaving the door ajar.
EIGHTEEN
I opened the door, half expecting and fully hoping it would be Randy, the bell boy. It wasn’t. It was two guys in suits with ‘cop’ written across their foreheads.
‘Are you Eddie Gianelli?’ one of them asked.
‘Who’s askin’?’
They both showed me their nice shiny detective badges.
‘L.A.P.D.,’ one of them said. ‘Detectives Reasoner and Crider.’
‘Which is which?’ I asked.
‘I’m Reasoner,’ the spokesman said. He was a little shorter and broader than his partner, but they were both about the same age, mid-forties. My guess was they had been partners for a long time. ‘Would you mind coming with us?’