‘You got a wife that’s pissed at you?’ Crider asked.
‘Exes,’ Larry said, ‘two of ’em, but if they have me put in the hospital they don’t get no alimony.’
‘We better talk to them, anyway,’ Crider said. ‘Be good if we could figure out who the real target was.’
Larry gave them the names and addresses of his ex-wives.
‘OK,’ Crider said, ‘I guess that’s it for now.’
‘We’ll talk to the two of you again,’ Reasoner said.
‘How about a ride back to the hotel?’ I asked.
‘Sorry,’ Crider said, ‘no can do.’
‘Yeah,’ Reasoner said, ‘you’ll have to take a cab.’
Not so friendly anymore.
‘He can take mine,’ Larry said. ‘They tol’ me they brought it here and put it in the parking lot. Keys are in the drawer, here.’
‘That’s up to you, Larry,’ Reasoner said. ‘That cab’s your business. Up to you if you wanna let a stranger drive it.’
‘We’ll talk to you later,’ Crider said.
They started for the door, then Crider turned and said, ‘Hey, Larry. Did you know what Eddie here was doin’ in the Beverly Hills Hotel?’
We all waited for the answer.
‘Far as I know,’ Larry said, ‘he was getting’ a room.’
‘Yeah,’ Reasoner said, ‘far as you know.’
The two detectives left.
I walked to the door to make sure they weren’t loitering outside the room, then returned to Larry’s bedside.
‘Thanks for not mentioning Ava Gardner, Larry,’ I said.
‘Cops,’ Larry said, ‘can’t stand ’em. I really get beat up because I took that call?’
‘I don’t know, Larry,’ I said, ‘but I’m gonna try to find out. Meanwhile, your hotel bills here are gonna be covered, so don’t worry about that.’
‘I was wonderin’ how I rated a private room,’ he said. ‘You payin’?’
‘No,’ I said, ‘Frank Sinatra is.’
His face was bruised and scraped, one arm was in a cast, and there was a bandage on his head, but his eyes bugged out and he looked excited.
‘For real?’
‘For real.’
‘Jeez. .’
‘That call you took for me, Larry,’ I said. ‘Who was it from?’
‘Your boss,’ he said. ‘Sounded pissed off.’
‘He always sounds like that.’
‘He wanted you to call him when you got a chance.’
‘I will. Listen, about your cab. . you don’t have to do that. I can catch-’
‘What the hell, ain’t doin’ me no good in the parking lot.’
‘I tell you what I’ll do,’ I said, ‘when I use it I’ll keep the meter running.’
His eyes bugged again.
‘You gonna pay for that?’
‘No,’ I said.
‘Not Frank Sinatra, again.’
‘No, the Sands casino, in Vegas,’ I said. ‘That’s where I work.’
‘Vegas!’ he said. ‘I love Vegas.’
‘Well, you’re gonna love it even more when you get out, because you and a guest are gonna have a free week at the Sands.’
‘Jesus,’ he said, ‘that’s almost worth gettin’ pounded on.’
‘Larry,’ I said, ‘if you really did get worked over because somebody thought you were me, I’m gonna damn well make it worth your while, believe me.’
I left Larry’s room with the keys to his cab in my pocket. I stopped at the front desk to talk to a doctor about Larry, found out he’d probably be ready to leave the hospital in about a week. The doctor said he was urinating blood on top of everything else. I told the doctor that the bills would be taken care of, to just send them to the Sands Hotel in Las Vegas, addressed to Eddie Gianelli. I also told him where I’d be and to call me if anything happened.
I left the hospital, found Larry’s cab and drove it out of the parking lot. I kept checking the rearview mirror to see if anyone was on my tail, cops or not.
TWENTY-ONE
I should have thought to take a key to the bungalow with me, but I didn’t, so I had to knock when I got back. When Ava opened the door, she was wearing a red wig and sunglasses.
‘What’s with the get-up?’ I asked, stepping in and closing the door behind me.
‘I didn’t know who it would be,’ she said. ‘And just in case the police came back with you and wanted to talk to Lucy Johnson. .’ She backed away and did a quick pirouette.
‘You make a good redhead, Lucy,’ I said.
She took the wig off and said, ‘I’ll leave that to Rita Hayworth.’ She ran her hand through her short black hair, and took off the sunglasses. ‘How did it go?’
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘They took me to the hospital to see Larry, the cab driver.’
‘What for?’
‘Well, among other things they wanted to find out from him if I was the one who beat him up.’
‘Why would you do that?’
‘That’s what they wanted to know, but Larry cleared me.’
‘Was he the driver who brought me here this morning?’ she asked.
‘Yeah.’
‘Did he mention me?’
‘No, he kept mum.’
‘Is he being taken care of?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, I’ve got his bills covered.’ I didn’t tell her Frank was paying. I don’t know why, exactly, I just didn’t.
‘It’s gettin’ late,’ I said. ‘Aren’t you sleepy?’
‘No, not yet,’ she said. ‘I had a nap, remember?’
‘Probably the first sleep you’ve had in days,’ I said. ‘Maybe you better lay down anyway.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’ll get a room somewhere-’
‘Stay here!’ she said, abruptly.
‘What?’
‘I–I don’t want to be alone,’ she said. ‘While you were gone I kept hearing noises, kept thinking there was some fucking creep outside trying to break in.’
‘Ava, I can get a room in the hotel-’
‘No,’ she said, ‘I don’t just want you nearby. I want you close. I want you here, Eddie.’
‘All right,’ I said. ‘I’ll sleep out here on the sofa.’
‘Nonsense,’ she said. ‘We’re adults, and there’s a large bed in the bedroom. We’ll share it-’
‘I don’t know-’
‘-but right now,’ she went on, ‘tell me what happened at the hospital.’
‘All right,’ I said. ‘Let’s sit down. .’
TWENTY-TWO
After I told her what took place at the hospital she said, ‘I don’t understand why someone would want to attack you. You’re only here because of me.’
‘What I need to know now is, what’s going on with you? Before the cops came we were talking about your black out.’
She averted her eyes.
‘Do you think it was something medical? Or just brought on by the booze?’ I asked.
‘If I say it was from alcohol I’d be admitting I’m a fucking alcoholic,’ she said.
Frank had always told me that Ava was a ‘tough broad,’ so her constant profanity was no shock.
‘Not necessarily,’ I said. ‘It could simply mean you drank too much over a period of days and your system couldn’t handle it.’
‘What’s the difference?’ she asked. ‘I lost forty hours, during which I ended up covered in blood.’
‘What’s the last thing you remember?’
‘I was in a hotel in Madrid — with some men.’
Her discomfort kept me from asking what she was doing with those men.
‘And what’s the next thing you remember?’
‘I woke up alone in that hotel room in Chicago.’
‘Where, exactly?’
‘It was a room in the Drake,’ she said. ‘I woke up feeling sick, staggered to the bathroom. I threw up, washed my face and saw blood in the sink. When I looked in the mirror I saw the blood on my clothes, and my face and neck.’
‘What else was in the room?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean was there any luggage, yours or anyone else’s? Any room service trays, bottles, anything to indicate someone else was in the room with you, or how many people were in the room?’
‘Well, it did look there’d been a party. Trays, plates, bottles, overflowing ashtrays. .’
‘Anyone else’s clothes?’
‘No,’ she said, ‘only a suitcase of mine. The one I have with me now. It just has a few clean clothes in it, and some toiletries.’
‘Did you think about calling the police then?’