Robert Randisi - It Was a Very Bad Year

‘I love ya, Eddie. .’ he said.

‘I love you, too, Frank.’

‘. . but stay away from my daughters!’

Both girls laughed as Frank grabbed me by the front of my shirt and pulled me away from them.

‘Eddie, those girls ain’t ready for you. You’re Eddie G., slick, fast-’

‘Slick?’

‘Trustworthy and loyal.’

Like a boy scout? I thought.

‘I love ya, pally,’ he said again, slapping me lightly on the cheek, ‘but those are my babies, ya know?’

‘I know, Frank.’

He threw his arm around me again and said, ‘Now if you want a broad, I can get ya a broad.’

‘No, I’m good, Frank,’ I said. ‘Really.’

‘OK.’

He walked away and I decided not to go back to the Sinatra girls. Besides, when I turned around they had latched on to a handsome young FBI agent, who was looking mortified.

Later I came face to face with Jimmy Van Heusen and found myself gushing to him about how much I enjoyed his work with Frank, including ‘All the Way’ and ‘High Hopes’, both of which won Oscars. He told me one of his favorite songs was ‘Call Me Irresponsible’ from that year’s film Papa’s Delicate Condition. I hadn’t seen the film yet, but I heard the song on the radio by Jack Jones. He then told me something I didn’t know, that he originally wrote the song for Fred Astaire to sing in the movie, but Astaire had to pull out because of other obligations, so Jackie Gleason stepped in and did the film.

‘It’s on Frank’s new album, though, “Sinatra’s Sinatra”,’ he finished.

Somebody came and grabbed his arm, so I moved away after wishing him luck with the song at the next Oscar ceremony.

I looked around, saw Jerry standing off to one side eating a huge sandwich. He had a lot of room around him, like people were giving him space. I walked over and joined him. The table there was laden with food, both hot and cold.

‘How you doin’, big guy?’

‘Good, Mr G. The food’s real good. That Chasen’s place must be OK.’

‘I think so.’

Even though the food on the table was delicious I found I wasn’t that hungry.

‘ Manga ,’ Jerry said.

‘Maybe later. I’m gonna get another drink.’

I looked around and saw Evans walking up to me. He was holding two drinks.

‘You look thirsty,’ he said, handing me one.

‘Thanks. You’re a mind reader.’ I sipped it. It was bourbon.

‘Look, can we talk? Privately?’

‘I’ll see you later, Jerry,’ I said.

He nodded, raised his sandwich, and chewed.

Evans and I found a corner where we could talk.

‘I wanted to thank you again for the information you called me with,’ Evans said. ‘It really accelerated the capture of those kidnappers.’

‘Accelerated?’ I asked.

‘Well, yes,’ Evans said. He was impeccably decked out in an expensive brown suit with creases in his trousers that could carve a turkey and a burgundy pocket handkerchief. He wore gold cuff links, a couple of gold rings, but nothing on his wedding ring finger. I bet myself that he was always in the society pages, one of LA’s most eligible bachelors. ‘We were going to catch them, anyway. But you helped speed up the process.’

‘I see.’

‘So I don’t think I should be reading anything in the newspapers about you being the one who caught the kidnappers.’

‘Is that what you’re worried about, Mr DA?’ I asked. ‘That I’m gonna try and take credit for bringin’ Frankie home? And findin’ the kidnappers?’

‘Well, aren’t you?’

‘I don’t care about the credit, Evans,’ I said. ‘You can have it.’

‘You getting paid that much that you don’t need to be the hero?’

‘I’m not gettin’ paid anythin’.’

He took a step back regarded me, puzzled.

‘So you did this — all of this — for nothin’? For. . what? Friendship?’

‘That’s right, friendship,’ I said. ‘Frank called and asked me to help, and I said yes.’

‘And you put your life on the line?’

I shrugged.

‘I don’t understand that,’ he said.

‘What? The concept of someone doin’ somethin’ for a reason other than profit?’

‘I’m a politician, Eddie,’ he said. ‘Altruism is not something I see every day. It’s not something I even understand.’

I wasn’t sure I knew what ‘altruism’ meant back then, but I pretty much figured it out.

‘Some people just do the right thing, Mr Evans,’ I said. ‘And I guess that’s somethin’ I wouldn’t expect a politician to get.’

For some reason he decided to take offense at that moment.

‘Oh, look here,’ he said, ‘don’t go getting so high and mighty on me. According to Mr Raggio you’re nothin’ but another hood. You work for the mob in one of their casinos, and you work to keep their friends out of trouble.’

‘I think I’m done talking to you, Mr Evans,’ I said. ‘I see a lot more interesting people in the room.’

‘Yeah, you listen-’

‘Dino!’ I yelled.

Dean Martin had just walked in. He spotted me and came walking over.

‘Hey, Eddie!’ He gave me a big hug. ‘Who do we have here?’

‘This is Mr Evans, the District Attorney around here. He worked with the cops and the FBI on gettin’ Frankie back.’

‘Well,’ Dino said to Evans, ‘let me shake your hand, fella. You did a helluva job.’

Evans shook hands with Dean but studied me. I guess he was waiting for me to play hero.

‘Thank you, Mr Martin,’ he said. ‘I was just. . just doing my job.’

Dino looked at me, a smile on his handsome face. He was wearing a blue suit that made the DA’s look cheap.

‘I wanted to come over while everything was going on, but Frank said no. He said it would attract too much attention.’

‘He was quite right,’ Evans said. ‘We had enough media attention to deal with.’

‘Well,’ Dean said, ‘it’s a pleasure to meet you. Eddie, I’ll see you later. I’m gonna go and find Frank and Frankie, so I can give the kid a big hug. Excuse me boys.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Evans said.

I nodded and Dean moved away into the room crowded with Sinatra well wishers.

I caught Evans looking at me.

‘Maybe I misjudged you, Eddie,’ he said, finally.

‘You know what, Evans?’ I said. ‘It really doesn’t matter whether you did or didn’t because we probably won’t ever see each other again after this.’

‘You’re right,’ Evans said. ‘We probably won’t.’

He turned and followed in Dino’s wake into the crowded room.

We got off Frank’s plane the next morning in Vegas and found the cops waiting for us.

‘What’s this about?’ Entratter said aloud as we came down the airstairs.

Frank had Juliet Prowse on his arm, put himself between her and the advancing quartet of uniformed cops.

‘Take it easy, baby,’ he told her.

‘Eddie Gianelli?’ one of them asked as they reached us.

‘That’s me.’

‘You’re comin’ with us,’ he said.

‘Am I?’

‘Under your own power or by force, but yeah, you’re comin’,’ he said.

‘Why?’

‘Detective Hargrove wants to see you.’

‘Uh-oh,’ Entratter said.

I knew what he meant. Hargrove had heard about the capture of the kidnappers and he knew that I gave him the information second, not first.

Mickey Rudin came out of the plane and asked, ‘What’s going on?’

‘I think Eddie needs a lawyer, Mickey,’ Frank said. ‘These officers are taking him in. I want you to go with him.’

‘What’s this about?’ Rudin asked anybody who would answer.