‘You and me both,’ I agreed.
We watched as the fighters came to the center of the ring for their instructions.
A left took Floyd’s legs out from under him, and set up the first knockdown.
‘Oops,’ Conte said, happily.
Floyd got up and indicated to the ref that he was all right, but you could see he had no legs. A barrage of punches put him down for a second time, and Conte happily took out his cigar. He was just taking the cellophane off when Floyd went down for the third and final time.
He was knocked out at two minutes ten seconds of round one.
He had lasted four seconds longer than the first fight.
Liston would defend his title against Cassius Clay the following year.
Conte’s blue cigar smoke surrounded us as we waited for the fight crowd to clear out.
Conte puffed away happily.
Sinatra fanned away the smoke and said, ‘Gloat now, Nick, but Cassius Clay will take the title away from Liston when they meet.’
‘You wanna bet now?’ Conte asked, smiling.
I didn’t get in on that bet, either. I didn’t think anyone would be beating Sonny Liston for a long time.
By the time we left the Las Vegas Convention Center I had completely forgotten about Joe Amsler.
TWO
Las Vegas, November 1963
I first met Abby Dalton briefly when I was in LA with Ava Gardner. We flirted some, but let me repeat that at the time I was with Ava Gardner. Abby was a beautiful young blonde with a delicious overbite (although I had heard it described as ‘vicious’) who was playing Joey Bishop’s wife on his sitcom The Joey Bishop Show.
Joey had called me the day before to say he was coming into town and did I want to have dinner? Whenever any of the guys flew in I made time for them. We agreed to meet at the Bootlegger Italian restaurant on the South Strip. Frank and Dean had introduced me to the Bootlegger, which served traditional Italian fare.
I arrived first and was sitting at a table with a martini when Joey walked in. I was surprised to see that Abby Dalton was with him. Her hair was up, and she was wearing a suit that did nothing to hide her curves, a short skirt and high heels that showed off her wonderful legs.
‘Hey, Eddie,’ Joey said, as they approached, ‘you remember Abby.’
‘How could I forget?’ I asked, standing. ‘Nice to see you again, Miss Dalton.’
‘Oh, please, Eddie,’ she said, dazzling me with that overbite, ‘call me Abby.’
‘All right, Abby. Please, sit.’
She looked at the two place settings on the table and turned to Joey.
‘You didn’t tell him I was coming.’
Joey looked at me for help.
‘No, he didn’t,’ I said, and his look turned to a glare, ‘but it’s a pleasant surprise.’
‘Well,’ she said, ‘somebody’s a gentleman.’
Joey took the hint and held her chair for her. A waiter came running over — because he recognized Joey, or simply because he saw Abby? — and asked if they wanted drinks.
‘I’ll have a Coke,’ Joey said, as he sat. According to him he had never touched hard liquor in his life, and I never saw a reason to doubt him.
‘I’ll have what Eddie’s having,’ Abby said.
‘Vodka martini coming up, signorina.’ I could see in the young waiter’s eyes that he was smitten.
‘Eddie, I’m sorry Joey surprised you like this,’ Abby said.
‘No reason to apologize,’ I said. ‘Why would I not want to eat dinner with a beautiful woman — and a schmuck?’
‘Hey, easy now.’ Joey looked sharp, as usual, in a black suit, white shirt and thin black tie. He always made me feel like a bargain basement kind of guy as I looked down at my own five-year-old suit.
‘Well, I’m sure he got you here under false pretenses,’ she said. ‘You see, I have a problem that Joey said you might be able to help me with.’
There was a time when I thought Frank, Dean, Joey and the rest only called me when they had problems. That time had past, since I’d had many breakfasts and dinners with each of them that involved nothing more than catching up.
‘Well, Joey’s pretty well versed on what I can and can’t do,’ I told her. ‘If he says I can help you, I probably can. At the very least, I’ll try.’
‘See?’ Joey said to her. ‘What did I tell you? He’s the best.’
The waiter returned with their drinks, and a third place setting.
‘We won’t need that,’ Joey said. ‘I’ll be leaving right after I finish my Coke.’
‘Si, signore,’ the waiter said, and took the extra setting away.
Joey looked at me. ‘I just wanted to get you two started, then I figured I’d leave you alone so Abby can tell you her troubles.’
Did this mean that Joey had promised her I’d help, even without knowing what the problem was?
‘Well then,’ I said, ‘you should probably leave so we can order.’
Joey drank half his Coke and said, ‘Oh, yeah, right.’ He stood up. ‘You’ll see that Abby gets back to the Sands?’
‘Of course I will,’ I said.
Joey put his hand on her shoulder and said, ‘I’ll see you later.’
‘OK, Joey,’ she said. ‘Thanks.’
As Joey left I picked up a menu and handed it to her.
‘Let’s order, maybe get some wine,’ I said, ‘and then you can tell me what this is all about.’
‘All right,’ she said, ‘but I’ll be paying the check, since Joey tricked you into coming.’
‘I’ll pay the check, Abby,’ I said. ‘I consider that Joey did me a big favor by arranging for me to have dinner with you, instead of him.’
‘I can see I’m going to have to watch myself with you, Eddie,’ she said. ‘You seem to know all the right things to say.’
THREE
I had veal, Abby had chicken.
Once we had dinner in front of us, with a glass of red wine each, I asked Abby to tell me what the problem was.
‘I’m being. . harassed.’
‘By who?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said.
‘What form is this harassment taking?’ I was already thinking that maybe she’d get more help from my private eye buddy, Danny Bardini.
‘Phone calls, mail-’
‘What did you get in the mail?’
She fidgeted in her chair.
‘Years ago, when I was first starting out, I had some. . pictures taken,’ she said, nervously.
‘OK, let me stop you,’ I said, wanting to ease her discomfort. ‘I don’t need to know what kind of pictures, and I don’t need to see ’em.’
She breathed a sigh of relief and said, ‘You’re making this a lot easier.’
‘That was my intention.’
‘Thank you.’ She paused for a piece of chicken and I watched with pleasure as she chewed. I don’t usually enjoy watching people eat — it’s pretty ugly most of the time, people shoveling food into this big hole in their face — but hey, this was Abby Dalton.
‘Somebody — probably from my past — sent me a copy of the photo. . photos. They then called and just sort of. . gloated.’
‘No blackmail?’
‘No,’ she said, then after a pause, ‘not yet, anyway.’
‘But you are expecting a demand.’
‘Well. . you tell me. Why else would somebody do this?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Just to scare you, maybe? I mean, if these photos got out they’d be. . what? Embarrassing?’
‘At the very least.’
‘Why would someone do this now?’ I asked. ‘Because you’re a celebrity, and you’re on TV?’
‘I was on Hennessy for three years before doing Joey’s show,’ she said. ‘Why wouldn’t they have done it then?’
‘Could someone have found these photos, say, accidentally?’
‘I suppose. .’
‘Who were they taken by?’
‘A professional photographer.’
‘And what does he have to say?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I. . I haven’t spoken with him.’
We paused for a couple of bites each. It was a shame we weren’t paying attention to the food. It was very good.