‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘he’ll come back with a little bit of everything, if I know him.’
‘There’s some booze in the house,’ she said. ‘Do you want a drink?’
‘No. I want to stay alert.’
‘Do you mind if I have one?’
‘Go ahead, but remember,’ I said, ‘no lights, and stay away from the windows.’
‘Luckily,’ she said, ‘I know where everything is. I could get around this house with my eyes closed.’
‘I hope so.’
She turned and left the kitchen. A moment later I heard her walk into something and snap, ‘Ouch! Fuck!’
I shook my head, got myself as glass of water from the tap. I knew I could count on Big Jerry to come back with coffee.
THIRTY-SIX
When Jerry got back he had half-a-dozen brown bags with him. Ava had found a flashlight in the house, a pretty good one, so we set it on the table and started emptying bags. There were sandwiches, knishes, fries, potato salad, pickles, containers of coffee and a few cans of Dr Brown’s soda, which I hadn’t seen since I left New York.
‘Wouldja believe it?’ he asked. ‘I found a Jewish deli in L.A. that sells Dr Brown’s.’ He was ecstatic. He’d brought Cream, Black Cherry and Cel-ray.
‘What’s this?’ Ava asked, picking up a bottle of the Cel-ray.
‘Celery flavored soda,’ I said, ‘from New York.’
‘Yuch.’ She was still working on the large highball she’d built.
Jerry got some plates from the cupboard — he already knew where everything was — and set them out, and we doled out the food.
The sandwiches were pastrami or brisket, and we managed almost equally to divide up the food: half for Jerry, and half for me and Ava.
‘Oh, I can see hanging around with you two characters is going to have a real effect on my figure.’
‘Nothin’ wrong with your figure that I can see, Miss Ava,’ Jerry said.
‘Thank you, Jerry,’ she said. ‘You’re very sweet.’
After we ate we finished our coffee and played some three-handed gin at the kitchen table by flashlight until Ava’s eyelids started to droop.
‘That’s it for me, boys,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to get some sleep. You figure out how much you both owe me and let me know tomorrow.’
She stood up, walked to the doorway, then turned and looked over her shoulder at us.
‘Pick any bedroom you want,’ she said.
‘One of us will be up all night, Ava,’ I said. ‘In case you hear something, or want something.’
‘I feel safer already,’ she said, ‘but I hope you guys are better at bodyguarding than you are at cards.’
When she left the room Jerry said, ‘Hey, Mr G., you notice how much she’s like that broad she plays in Mogambo?’
‘Honey Bear.’
‘Yeah, that’s her,’ he said. ‘Geez, I can see why Mr S. is so gone on her.’
‘You wanna keep playin’ for a while, Jerry?’ I asked. ‘Maybe one of us can get back some of what we lost to her.’
‘Sure, why not?’
Playing Jerry heads up wasn’t such a good idea. Not only did I lose but he frustrated me. He didn’t play well — at least he didn’t play the way I was taught. He seemed to pick up cards only to discard them a few rounds later. He fed me two cards in a row, didn’t seem to make any attempt to remember what he gave me, and in the end he won anyway.
He had me shaking my head.
‘You play this game a lot, Mr G.?’ he asked.
‘I’ve been playing cards since I was a kid, Jerry,’ I said.
‘You ain’t doin’ so hot.’
‘You ain’t playin’ right,’ I said.
He shuffled the cards and muttered, ‘Yeah, but I’m winnin’.’
‘Just shut up and deal.’
THIRTY-SEVEN
Later, while we were still playing, Jerry said, ‘Funny thing.’
‘What’s funny?’
Jerry looked up from his cards. Before answering he discarded an Ace he had just picked up two rounds before. I shook my head.
‘You and me, Mr G.,’ he said. ‘The way we stumble on bodies.’
He looked and sounded like he was reminiscing fondly about his past.
‘That’s not something I think about, Jerry,’ I said. ‘Not something I look forward to either.’
‘Oh, no, I didn’t mean that,’ he said. ‘I just meant it’s like. . something chemical. You and me end up in the same place, and bodies start to show up.’
‘Well, let’s hope this body’s got nothin’ to do with us,’ I said. ‘Maybe the manager pissed off some other guest.’
‘I wonder if Miss Ava has a radio around here someplace,’ he said. ‘Or we could turn on the TV, see if there’s anything on the news.’
‘There’s a television in the living room, but it would throw shadows,’ I said. ‘But a radio is not a bad idea.’
‘It’s only taken me a couple of years to get you thinkin’ like a criminal.’
I didn’t know what to say to that. We finished the hands — he made gin — I tallied up what I owed him and then we looked for a radio. We didn’t have to look far. There was one on a shelf in the kitchen. It was plugged in so we turned it on, found a news station, and kept the volume low. We were back to playing gin when the first mention came on.
It said the body of the manger of the Beverly Hills Hotel was found in his office. The cause of death was as yet unknown, but the man was believed to have been murdered. A witness — a desk clerk — had described two men who were looking for the manager, and were believed to be the last to see him alive. They described us as two white males, one six feet tall and the other six and a half. Thankfully, there was no mention of Ava Gardner or ‘Lucy Johnson.’
In a possibly related story — it went on — a cab driver had been beaten up outside the Beverly Hills Hotel the night before and was in the hospital. The police are investigating the possibility of a connection.
‘Hey, at least your buddy Larry’s got an alibi,’ Jerry said.
‘It’s a good thing we have a safe place to go to rent a car tomorrow,’ I said.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t go in with you,’ Jerry said.
‘Why?’
‘There are lots of fellas six feet tall,’ he said ‘but six and a half?’
He was right. Louie the dispatcher and his brother might not have minded helping me because Larry said so, but if Jerry came along and they’d been listening to the news they might not be so helpful. As it was, the mention of Larry being beaten up in connection with the manager’s murder might cause a problem. But I wouldn’t know that until I got to the car lot the next morning.
‘I could steal a car, Mr G.,’ Jerry said. ‘Ain’t done it since I was a kid, so I’d be a little rusty, but-’
‘No, no,’ I said, ‘forget that. I don’t want you gettin’ pinched for stealing a car.’
‘What about Miss Ava?’ he asked.
‘What about her?’
‘She must have a car, maybe two. Them Hollywood types always got more than one.’
‘Hey,’ I said, ‘there is a garage out back, isn’t there?’
He smiled, nodded and said, ‘A two-car garage.’
‘Why wouldn’t she have mentioned that when we started talkin’ about renting a car?’ I wondered.
‘She ain’t used to takin’ it on the lam, Mr G.,’ he said. ‘Could be she just didn’t think of it.’
‘Why don’t we take a look?’
‘Let’s finish this hand,’ he suggested.
We did.
He made gin.
‘I’m not playin’ with you anymore,’ I said, throwing down my cards.
It didn’t work out.
We went to the garage, entered through an open side door. We took the flashlight with us, and by its light saw that Ava had two roadsters — two seaters, both of them.
‘We could take both of ’em,’ Jerry said, hopefully. ‘I drive one, you drive the other.’
‘No,’ I said, ‘we’ll stick to the original plan. We’ll go rent a car from Louie’s brother in the morning.’
Jerry shined the flashlight over the cars again, gave them a long, loving look, and then followed me back to the house.
‘You tired?’ I asked.