Dream Town, page 22
“What about Little Tony?” asked Archer.
“Guys like him don’t do the grave digging. He’ll claim he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. He works security for the casino, you looked suspicious. He took you aside and talked to you and then let you go on your way. Anything happened after that, he knows nothing about and he’ll have witnesses to back that up.”
“They could have killed me inside the casino,” Archer had pointed out.
Dash shook his head. “No way Paley would do that. Shots fired, blood spilled, evidence all over? Even the cops couldn’t look the other way on that. And Paley isn’t gonna disrespect the likes of Meyer Lansky and Moe Dalitz and their kind by using a brand-new property like the Sands for a personal execution site; that costs the mob money. Sure, Paley is a sadistic prick. But mobsters like Lansky have a hundred Paleys on the payroll. It would be a slaughter and Paley knows it. So they get the drop on you at the casino, then knock you out and do the deed in the middle of nowhere. They just didn’t know the middle of nowhere would be so populated.”
“Paley seems to believe there’s another party getting some of his dope.”
“That’s interesting. What else?”
Archer filled Dash in on this and also all he had learned about Green, Jacoby, and Mars.
“So the three guys are gambling addicts and Mars also likes the ladies and the booze.”
Archer nodded. “And they’ve all been able to cover their debts. But Green seemed to have fared better than the other two. He still gets to play at the adult table.”
“And Mars? How’d he cover his markers?”
“I forgot to tell you that part. The casinos put the touch on Gloria Mars.”
“And Simon Jacoby?”
“His wife said his business was going gangbusters, so maybe that’s how he covered his. And he inherited their big house and maybe some cash along with it.”
“Now, I know Bart Green is a big-time producer, but two million bucks of gambling losses? No way that’s all coming from the man’s business pocket.”
“I agree. And the Bonhams are involved with Paley somehow. At least the wife is.”
“With a guy like Paley, you never know who he owns.”
“So, do we go to the cops?”
“With what?” exclaimed Dash.
“Let me play out a theory for you, Willie.”
“Fire away.”
“A guy is at Lamb’s house when I call. He answers the phone. I go out there, see Bender’s car, stumble over Bender’s body, and somebody blackjacks my skull. I wake up, find a Wheeldex card in Lamb’s house with the Jade Lion mentioned on it and a name, Jonathan Brewster, which is code for scarface Darren Paley. I call the cops. I head west so I won’t run into them and hit the beach. On the sand I trip into smugglers carrying crates up from a boat. On the very day that Bender is killed! I tussle with a guy and get away. In Lamb’s office at Green and Ransome I find Jade Lion matchbooks. Alice Jacoby swears she’s never been there when I show one of the matchbooks to her, but I have a witness who swears she’s seen Jacoby there. You follow so far?”
“You’re doing fine, Archer. Keep going.”
“I go to the Jade. I stumble over crates with sand all over them. I find a vial with heroin under a bed there. Then I roust Bernadette Bonham at the airport and she immediately flies to Paley. I get fingered by the gal at the Jade as being the guy running around the place that night. Then Paley gets Little Tony to snatch me, and Paley asks me if I know why his shipments are getting shortchanged. I don’t, and then he tries to kill me.” He stopped and looked at his partner. “Okay?”
“Okay what? I have no doubt Paley is selling dope. But we can show absolutely no ties between Paley and what you saw on the beach that night. And we have no proof it’s even dope running that they’re doing down there.”
“I think the crates I saw at the Jade were full of—”
“There are a lot of sandy crates and heroin in LA. And a DA could give a shit what you think. You’re up against some big muscle, Archer, and you can’t bring a slingshot to a war. The mob can afford the best lawyers in the business. By the time they finish with you, your ass will be in jail for dope running.”
“But Bernadette Bonham knows Darren Paley. For me that ties what happened on the Malibu beach to the Jade. And it’s not a big leap from there to Bender’s murder in the canyon. And Lamb disappearing. She was scared because maybe she knew something. Maybe she knew about the dope running.”
“And maybe I’m the Queen of England, only I can’t prove it. And Bonham knowing Paley is not a crime.”
Archer sat back and closed his eyes. He knew Dash was right. He had no connection between what he’d seen on the beach that tied into either Bender’s murder or the Jade Lion and Darren Paley. He opened his eyes. “Okay. Let’s go back to square one. Why would Alice Jacoby lie about the Jade?”
“Maybe you need to ask her.”
“Maybe I do. But what about Paley? Do I have to go around with eyes in the back of my head?”
“He’s going to lie low for a bit. He’s got to after what happened tonight.”
“So his boys will tell him about messing up tonight?”
“Are you kidding, Archer? Those boys are probably halfway to Mexico by now. They were just a couple of punks hired at the last minute to do the deed. They won’t even know Paley was calling the shots. That way no stink floats back to him. But Paley will know they screwed up, and if he can catch them he’ll put them in the same hole they were supposed to dig for you. But he’ll have heard the bad news by now. And he’ll have to step back and think about his next move. Which means we got some breathing room.”
“Sounds like a checkers game.”
“Chess, Archer. You play checkers for fun. You play chess for keeps.” Dash handed him a slip of paper. “Liberty’s new address and phone number.”
“Thanks.”
Dash waved to the stewardess and ordered them two bourbons on the rocks.
Archer drained his in nearly one gulp.
“Rough night.”
Archer glanced at Dash, who had a funny look in his eyes. “I know it was a close shave, Willie, too close.”
“It’s not like you did anything too wrong, Archer. Sure, you shouldn’t have let Tony get the jump on you. But in our line of work, you can do things perfect ninety-nine percent of the time, and that last percent puts you in an early grave.”
“Like Cedric Bender?”
“Yeah, like him. So, you still in?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Let me tell you something. When I was with the Bureau we did a raid on one of Capone’s booze operations. This was during Prohibition, you understand. And it was Chicago, so we were playing on Big Al’s home field. The raid went sideways because we got some bad information from a stool pigeon. And then I let one of Capone’s goons get the drop on me. He was one second from drilling a bullet right here.” Dash pointed to the spot between his eyes. “Then my boss, a guy named Melvin Purvis, who was a crack shot, nailed him. That night I was even closer than you were to being dead. After that, Purvis, who was a hell of an agent and taught me a lot, pulled me aside and asked me if I wanted to keep going. Sure, the possibility of getting killed is part of being a federal cop, but a man is still a man and when you get right to the edge, it can change you. And Purvis knew that.”
“Change you how?”
“Make you indecisive, unsure of yourself, hesitate when hesitation just can’t happen. And Purvis wasn’t asking because he was worried about me. He was asking because he was worried about his team. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, Archer. And if I couldn’t carry my weight anymore, that could lead to other agents being killed. That’s what Purvis was getting at.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“I told him thanks for saving my bacon, and I’d be glad to do the same for him.”
The men looked at each other for a significant moment.
“Thanks for saving my bacon, Willie. And I’ll be glad to return the favor if I need to.”
Dash grinned, cuffed Archer on the shoulder, drained his bourbon, put his seat back, and slept the rest of the short flight.
Chapter 47
WHEN THEY LANDED IN LA, Dash and Archer drove to Silver Lake in Archer’s rental car, which he’d left at the airport. Dash got a room at the same motel and went to bed. Archer went to his room and dialed the number; a moment later Callahan picked up.
“Hey, Liberty.”
“Hey, Archer.”
“Sorry, I know it’s really late.”
“You know I never go to bed early.”
“You all settled in?” he asked.
“Sure, sure.”
“And you’re keeping a lookout and all?”
“Just like you said,” she told him.
“Look, I know you didn’t need all this to drop in your lap. I’m sorry.”
“Ellie Lamb is my friend. You took the case to help her. So how’s it going? You find any clues?”
“Yeah. A few.”
“You didn’t get hit in the head again, did you?” she asked.
Archer rubbed the spot where Little Tony had sapped him. “No, nothing like that. It was a pretty normal day.”
“Normal is nice.”
“Yeah,” said Archer quietly. “Well, I hope you have a good sleep. And I…”
“And you what?”
“I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Don’t go all soft on me, Archer. You’ll lose your tough-guy rep. Good night.”
Archer put the phone down and looked around the confines of the cheap room that looked like no one had touched it since the 1920s. He had stayed in many cheap rooms over the last three years. Maybe too many. He had also gotten close to dying at times, but not as close as tonight. If Dash had not been there and done what he had? If on the spur of the moment Archer hadn’t called Dash and told him that he was in Vegas and what he was planning to do? Dash would not have been there.
And I’d be lying under six feet of desert. I wouldn’t even get a lousy funeral service like Bender. And Liberty would spend some time wondering what became of me. And then she’d get on with her life. Because we all have to.
That last thought made a part of his heart he maybe didn’t fully understand lurch sideways. She’d miss me, at least. That’s something.
He took out his flask and added a whiskey chaser to the airline’s bourbon. It burned all the way down, and Archer needed to feel that.
You’re alive, not dead. And you get another shot at taking down the folks who wanted to end things for you. Play that game as hard as you can, Archer. But play it smart from now on.
It was not a simple matter of revenge or payback or getting even. Archer wasn’t sure what it was. Justice was a simple word with a mountain range’s worth of complexities behind it. Good versus evil was the same sort of equation. But with guys like Paley, it wasn’t a close call. He was scum and didn’t deserve to breathe air.
So next time you get him in your sights, Archer, make sure he’s not breathing after it’s over. Because he’ll try to do the same to you. And it won’t bother him nearly as much as it will bother you. That’s the difference. That’s the whole beeswax, really.
* * *
He woke the next morning, took a shower, changed into fresh clothes, and had breakfast with Dash at a greasy-spoon diner near the motel.
“Got some news, Archer. They found Bender’s car.”
“Where?”
“In the ocean off Malibu Pier.”
“Anyone in it? Like Eleanor Lamb?”
“Nope. It was a nice little oyster without a shiny pearl inside.”
“Oldham find it?”
“Off a tip, yeah. But get this—word is he’s not working the case too hard.”
Archer took a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, I thought his big speech to me about not being on the take was a load of horseshit.”
“I don’t think he’s on the take. Don’t get me wrong, some county cops are. Only they don’t need a guy like Oldham.”
“Then why is he pulling back?”
“Look at it this way, Archer. LA runs on lots of things. But the primary thing it runs on is the Hollywood fantasy. You got millions of tourists coming here for that very reason and hundreds of thousands of new people wanting to call this place home every year so they can try and jump on that train. All that adds up to a mountain of money for everybody, good and bad. And my thinking is that somebody knows about the little private film business at the Jade that you found out about. And maybe they know a bunch of stars are ensnared in it. That comes out, all of a sudden the little fantasy that creates tons of jobs and sells magazines and keeps butts in seats in front of TVs and at theaters all over the country gets blown into a million little pieces.”
“Jake pretty much said the same thing. But how can the cops know Bender’s death is tied to what’s going on at the Jade?”
“If I knew the answer to that, Archer, I’d know everything. And the rank and file like Oldham don’t have to know. All I’m saying is, money talks but shit still stinks.”
“Then are you saying Paley gets a pass?”
“I’m saying some folks might think it’s worth it to give him a pass. So, what’s your next move?”
“First up, talk to Alice Jacoby. Then I’m going to track down the Bonhams. I’ll start in Malibu. I want to know how she knows Paley. And I might have slipped up and told Paley too much about Bernadette. I don’t want her getting fished out of the water off Malibu Pier.”
“Okay.”
“What will you be doing?” asked Archer.
“Going to see Jake. We got a few things percolating. And I won’t have your back today, so you watch it real, real good.”
“But you said Paley would be lying low,” noted Archer.
“But Paley ain’t the only killer out there, is he?”
Chapter 48
ALICE JACOBY WAS IN HER DESIGN STUDIO at Warner Brothers. After his call requesting a meeting, she had put Archer on the visitor’s log. He had found street parking, cleared the front gate, and arrived at her office minutes later. She was dressed in high-waisted dark green slacks, a white blouse, and a navy blue jacket with a double row of brass buttons, giving her a military appearance. Her hair was done up in a ponytail. She looked younger and carefree away from her inherited mansion, like a fresh-faced woman about to set out on life.
But she might end up not being so carefree after he said what he was here to say.
Her office had shelves of books and files, and elaborate drawings tacked on corkboard. There were framed movie posters and autographed photos grouped on one wall and also set on low tables. A large armoire that looked like it was built in the previous century took up one corner. On a large waist-high table in the middle of the room was a mockup of a lavish bedroom, a large library, and an old English-style conservatory.
Jacoby sat at her drafting table, which was filled with drawings on loose paper, and notes taped to its wooden surface. Archer sat in a chair and used his hat to point at the mockup.
“Working hard, I see.”
“A Ginger Rogers picture. I’ve worked on at least a dozen of them since I came to town, many during the war years. She’s not the big draw she used to be, but she was in a movie with Cary Grant and Marilyn Monroe last year called Monkey Business. It did very well. So now we have another Ginger Rogers picture. Oh, we had such fun during the war.” She added wistfully, “I know that time was bad for so many, but I felt like we were doing something important. Cheering up people, giving them a reason to hope. You know?”
Archer had no inclination to chitchat, and he also didn’t think much of her statements. It was like everybody in this town thought the movies had won the war instead of the blood of real soldiers.
“I’ve got some questions to ask you and they may not be pleasant to hear,” he said bluntly.
She looked shocked, thought Archer. He supposed she might as well get used to it, because he only had forward gears this morning. Almost ending up in a grave still lingered with him. He figured it would until he ended up in a grave for real. And he was sure the woman had lied to him. Even though most people lied to PIs, including their own clients, the practice had never set well with Archer.
“All right. What are your questions?”
“You told me you had never heard of the Jade Lion, and never went to Chinatown?”
“That’s right.”
“Only I have a witness who saw you at the Jade on multiple occasions.”
“What witness?”
“I’d rather not say. But I can tell you the person is very reliable.”
“Well, this person must be mistaken in my case.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to tell me something?”
“There’s nothing to tell. I have never been to Chinatown, period.”
“You said your husband’s business was going gangbusters?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, he was seen in Vegas last night playing at the kiddie poker table, because he didn’t have the financial horsepower anymore to play with the big boys.”
“Who saw him?” she said sharply. “Another of your reliable witnesses?”
“Even better. I saw him there. He’s lost a lot of money gambling, Mrs. Jacoby. A whole lot. And he also got his nose busted and he came real close to getting his knees and his back broken for nonpayment of what he owed. But then the cash came in, and somebody put him on a short leash in Vegas. Was that somebody you? On both counts?”
The whole time Archer was talking Jacoby seemed to be shrinking down to a size that could fit into one of her mock rooms. He briefly imagined her in front of the little fireplace holding a little drink and wondering what the hell had happened to her fabulous life.
She rose and walked over to the armoire and opened the doors, revealing a bar set up inside. There was a line of pint and half-pint bottles that probably formed the dividing boundary between sobriety and drunkenness for the woman. For some reason he couldn’t quite fathom, Archer was not surprised by a bar in the armoire. But then he could fathom it. This was a lady who liked to hide all vices under grand veneers.
