Robert Randisi - It Was a Very Bad Year

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.

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.

‘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.

‘Days,’ he said. ‘Nobody’s been here for days.’

Just to be sure, we did a search of the house. Everything was covered with a layer of dust.

‘It looks to me like your boy went underground after he left you and Jerry. Maybe he didn’t want Jerry to find him, again.’

We went to the bedroom.

‘There are clothes here, but not enough,’ Danny said. ‘And no suitcase.’

‘So he packed and left.’

‘Looks like. There’s no money around, no bank books. Everybody leaves extra cash in the house.’

‘In the cookie jar?’

We went to the kitchen and looked. Nothing.

‘Now what?’ Danny asked.

‘His bank,’ I said.

‘You know where he banks?’

‘I know where he has a safety deposit box.’

‘Might not be the same one where he has an account, though. And even if he does, why would they tell us anything?’

‘We just need to know if the account’s been closed.’

He thought a minute.

‘I suppose I could run some kind of scam on a teller-’

‘Wait,’ I said. ‘When we were there to pick up the pictures he went to a teller, a pretty girl. She didn’t like him.’

‘That’s it, then,’ Danny said. ‘All I have to do is play her. You just have to point her out.’

‘Let’s go, then.’

I went into the bank with him just long enough to point out the girl, then I went outside to wait.

‘OK,’ he said, when he came out. ‘He closed his account.’

‘She just told you that?’

‘I turned on the charm,’ he said, with a grin. ‘Showed her the ol’ profile.’

‘And?’

‘And she hates Irwin,’ Danny said. ‘He was a pig, and gave her the creeps. Was always saying he wanted to take her picture. She’s smart, she knew what that meant.’

‘But not too smart to fall for your line?’

‘What line? I told her who I was, that I was looking for him for a client.’

‘The truth worked?’

‘The truth works a lot,’ he said, with a smile. ‘It’s just not always as much fun.’

‘So he closed his office, left his house, closed out his bank account. Any idea how much he had in there?’

‘No. She said she couldn’t tell me that. I let her have one.’

‘Yeah, OK. You think he left town?’

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘If he killed Wayne, he better have left town. If he had Wayne killed, he may still be around. If he’s looking to fuck you up, he might want to stay around to watch.’

‘He’s the only one who would have called the cops on me,’ I said. ‘It’s got to be him.’

‘Then he’s around,’ Danny said. ‘And since it didn’t work, he may try something else.’

‘I’ll be on the lookout.’

‘Call me if you need anything,’ he said.