‘Get dressed,’ he said. ‘You’re comin’ with us.’
‘What the hell-’
‘Get dressed, Eddie.’
‘Hargrove, what’s this abou-’
‘These two men are ready, willing and able to dress you, if you force the issue.’
‘I’m not forcing anything,’ I said, ‘I’m just trying to find out-’
‘You’ll find out what’s goin’ on when we get downtown, Eddie,’ Hargrove said. ‘Now don’t make me tell you again. Get dressed!’
‘OK, OK,’ I said, ‘Jeez, relax.’
I started to close the door, but he blocked it with his hand.
‘We’ll come inside and wait for you, if you don’t mind.’
‘Like I have a choice?’
Before long I was in an interview room with a cardboard cup of coffee that actually tasted like cardboard.
They let me stew for forty minutes before Hargrove came in, carrying a folder. He sat across from me, opened the folder and pushed it across to me. I stared down at the picture of a dead guy.
‘You know him?’
‘No.’
‘You didn’t even think about it.’
‘I don’t have to,’ I said. ‘I don’t know him.’
‘You don’t know him.’
‘No.’
‘Have you ever seen him?’
I hesitated, then looked again.
‘Maybe. He looks kinda familiar.’
‘From where?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe the casino?’
He took the folder back.
‘Who killed him?’ I asked.
‘What makes you think he’s been killed?’
‘Why else would you be involved?’ I asked. ‘Unless you’ve been moved from Homicide?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘And that’s what I’m tryin’ to find out, who killed him.’
‘What makes you think I’d know?’
‘We got a tip.’
‘Anonymous?’
‘What else?’
‘And the tipster said I killed him?’
‘Not exactly,’ Hargrove said. ‘They just said we should look into you.’
‘Look into me?’ I asked. ‘That’s it. And for that you woke me up and dragged me down here?’
‘I suppose I should’ve called you and made an appointment?’
‘You could’ve called me, yeah,’ I said. ‘I would’ve come down here if you asked me to.’
‘Because you’re such a good citizen.’
Because I worked at the Sands for Jack Entratter, and did favors for Frank Sinatra, Hargrove has always had it in his head that I was connected. And maybe I was, but not in the way he thought.
‘OK,’ he said, ‘get out of here.’
‘That’s it?’
‘That’s it.’
He looked miserable. Apparently, he had high hopes that I was involved. But even if I was, did he think I’d admit it?
I left the building, walked a few blocks, then caught a cab and had it take me back to my house. I went inside, took a shower and dressed in fresh, clean jeans and a T-shirt. Then I grabbed my windbreaker and keys and left again. I needed some breakfast, and some time to think.
I drove to a nearby diner, ordered bacon and eggs and settled in with a cup of coffee to figure out what the hell was going on.
I had thought the business with Barney Irwin was over and done when we got Abby’s photos back from him. But now, apparently, it had come back, and since Abby and Jerry had gone back home, I was the only one left to deal with it.
When Hargrove pushed that photo across the table at me, my first instinct was to lie and say I’d never seen the man before. But the fact was, I did know him. It had been a photo of Wayne, the man who had been in the studio with Barney Irwin that day when Jerry and I grabbed him and took him to that warehouse.
Jerry had choked Wayne out that day, but since then somebody had killed him — and somebody had tried to put the blame on me.
THIRTY
After breakfast I drove to Barney Irwin’s studio and found it closed up. I put my nose against the window, trying to see inside. It looked as I remembered it, dusty and worn out. The windows were thick with grime. It had only been a week, but the place seemed as if it had been deserted for years.
I tried the door, found it locked tight. I went around the back, found that door locked, too. I didn’t have Jerry’s ability to pick a lock, but I knew somebody who did.
I found a pay phone on the street and called Danny Bardini’s office.
I was sitting in my Caddy in front of Irwin Studios when Danny arrived. He stopped his heap behind me and got out.
‘What’s up?’ he asked.
‘I need to get inside.’
‘Why?’
I explained about Irwin’s friend, Wayne, who I had only met once.
‘So you think Irwin killed him and is tryin’ to sic the cops on you?’
‘I don’t know if he killed Wayne,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure he has the balls for that. But he has the balls to call the cops and send ’em looking for me.’
‘So now you’re lookin’ for him.’
‘I just want to ask him.’
‘I thought Jerry said the guy wouldn’t be back.’
‘Irwin’s afraid of Jerry,’ I said. ‘He’s not afraid of me.’
‘OK,’ Danny said, ‘so you want me to pick a lock? In broad daylight?’
‘There’s a back door,’ I said. ‘Come on.’
Danny picked the back door lock — a lot quicker than Jerry had — and we entered.
‘Let’s split up,’ I said. ‘I want to find anything that might tell us where he is.’
‘Right.’
We went through the place, every drawer and closet and corner, and didn’t find a thing. Danny finally joined me back in Irwin’s office. I was standing behind the desk, going through his phone book.
‘What’d you find?’ I asked.
‘Nothin’ but a lot of dirt,’ Danny said. ‘I need a shower after this. What about you?’
‘No, nothing,’ I said. ‘I’ll take this phone book with me. Maybe somebody in here knows where he is.’
‘Nothin’ in the drawers?’
‘No, noth. . Wait a minute.’ I started going through the pockets of my windbreaker.
‘What is it?’
‘Last time I was here, with Jerry,’ I said, ‘I found something — here it is.’
I took the slip of paper I had found, with some names on it, out of my pocket.
‘What’s that?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Here.’
I handed it to Danny to read.
Nov. 22.
Sinatra.
Keenan amp; Amsler.
Barry.
Johnny.
Canoga Park.
‘What’s this supposed to mean?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, ‘but it’s got November twenty-second on it. And Frank’s name.’
‘So what? Do you know who Keenan and Amsler are?’
‘No, never heard of ’em.’
‘And Johnny?’
I shrugged.
Danny handed it back.
‘That makes as much sense as if you’d found a grocery list in his desk.’
I stuffed the paper back in my jacket pocket and said, ‘Yeah, maybe. We better get out of here.’
I took the phone book and we left, locking the back door behind us.
‘What now?’ he asked, as we walked down the alley. ‘You wanna check out his house?’
‘Might as well.’
When we got to our cars he said, ‘You lead the way.’
‘Gotcha!’
We convoyed our way to Irwin’s house.
THIRTY-ONE
‘Two strip clubs,’ Danny said, shaking his head as we got out of our cars.
‘Yup.’
‘This house has been here a while,’ Danny said as we made our way up the walk. ‘Strip clubs probably got built up around it.’
We got to the front door and stopped, looked both ways. It was early, and the strip club parking lots were empty.
‘Let’s go to the back,’ I said, ‘just to be on the safe side.’ I led the way.
There was no car front or back. This time Danny didn’t have to pick the lock. He used a piece of plastic to simply slip it.
The inside of the house was musty. Danny sniffed the air.