Robert Randisi - Hey There (You with the Gun in Your Hand)

“Okay,” he said, “he was shot, maybe with this gun. See?”

I could see the hole in the guy’s clothes, and the small amount of blood that had soaked his shirt.

“That’s not much blood,” I said.

“He died right away, so he didn’t bleed out. We better get outta here.”

“I want to take it with us.”

“Take what?” He stood up. He was holding the light now and shone it in my face.

“The gun.”

He studied my face with the light.

“You serious?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain it to you later.”

Jerry looked around now, as if we were being watched, then back at me.

“You got a pen?” he asked.

“What?”

“A pen, do you got a pen on ya?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Use it to pick up the gun and let’s get the hell outta here.”

I took a pen out of my pocket, stuck it through the trigger guard and picked up the gun. Jerry reached down and, using his flashlight, moved the rags back to approximately where they were before we disturbed them. Then we hurried to the door, the gun swinging to and fro on my pen.

As we drove away he said, “We just fucked with evidence, ya know?”

“I know.”

“I just wanted to make sure you knew what you was doin’.”

“I know,” I said, again.

“I heard Mr. Davis is pretty good with a six-gun,” Jerry said, after a few more blocks. “I heard that, too.”

“That one of his?”

I turned and looked in the backseat, where I had tossed the gun.

“I don’t know,” I said, honestly.

“I guess we’re gonna find out, huh?”

“I guess we are.”

“So where we goin’?”

“Back to the Sands for now,” I said. “I’ve got to make some calls.”

When Jerry pulled the Caddy into the parking lot behind the Sands we sat there for a few minutes.

“We’ve got to put that gun somewhere,” I said, jerking my head toward the backseat where I had tossed it and the envelope of money.

“Your trunk, for now,” Jerry said.

“Isn’t that the first place somebody would look?”

He shrugged.

“Who’s lookin’ now? I think it’s pretty safe there for tonight. Nobody followed us back.”

“If somebody knew I was gonna be there tonight, then they know where I work and live.”

“So you think somebody left the gun there for you to find, just so they could take it back an hour later?” Jerry asked.

“No,” I said, “more than likely the gun was left there for the cops to find.”

“So you think you were sent there to find that body?”

“I was sent there to buy something,” I said. “Instead, we found a body.”

“You got stood up,” Jerry said. “If we’d just left, ya wouldn’t’ve found nothin’.”

“But we went inside and did find something.”

Jerry turned in the seat to face me.

“It’s more than likely whoever was there to sell you the thing you was gonna buy had a fallin’ out, and one of ’em got shot and left the other there, then took off.”

“So the blackmailers fell out and … what? That’s it?”

“If the one that’s left still wants the money he’ll make contact again.”

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

“Hey, it’ll be okay, Mr. G.,” he said. “Nobody knows nothin’.”

“I need a drink,” I said. “You want a drink?”

“Sure.”

“Let’s go.”

I got out of the Caddy and retrieved the gun and the envelope from the backseat. We opened the trunk and I put the gun-still holding it with the pen-underneath the spare. The envelope I put back in my pocket. Then we went inside to the Silver Queen Lounge and sat at the bar.

“Harry!” I called.

“Hey, Eddie. Hey, I know you, right?” Harry asked Jerry.

“Better if you didn’t,” Jerry said, and Harry nodded.

“Two bourbons, Harry,” I said.

“Make mine a beer,” Jerry said.

“Okay,” I said, “two beers, and a bourbon.”

“Comin’ up.”

“You okay, Mr. G.?” Jerry asked.

I held my hands out in front of me. They were shaking.

“Maybe not, Jerry.”

“I’m tellin’ ya,” Jerry said. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“Yeah.”

Harry came with the drinks and backed away quickly. I wondered what it would be like to be Jerry, able to scare people with my size, or a look.

I took a sip of bourbon and chased it down with a swallow of beer.

“Mr. G., you gonna call the cops?”

“I don’t know yet,” I said. “I’ll have to talk to Sammy. He didn’t want the cops involved.”

“What about Mr. S.?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “He won’t have any input. It’ll be up to Sammy.”

Jerry shrugged and swallowed half his beer in one gulp.

“Jerry, you can occupy yourself tonight and tomorrow morning until I talk to Sammy.”

“Where you goin’?”

“I’ll go home and call him from there.”

“I better come with you,” Jerry said.

“Jerry, you’ve got a great room here, and the whole casino to keep you entertained.”

“We found a dead body tonight, Mr. G.,” Jerry said. “Somebody killed him. And that somebody is still out there.”

“Well, like you said at the warehouse, we don’t know that the killing has to do with the reason I was there.”

“No, we don’t,” Jerry said, “but how much do you believe in coincidence?”

“Not much.”

“So I better come with ya,” he said. “You still got the same sofa? That sofa’s pretty comfortable.”

“Yeah,” I said, “yeah, I’ve got the same sofa.”

“Mr. G., I know I’m your second choice, here,” the big man said. “I know you’d like to have yer buddy Bardini here. I may not figure out what’s going on, but I won’t let nothin’ happen ta ya.”

“I know that, Jerry,” I said. “Believe me, I appreciate that you came when I called.”

“Why wouldn’t I, Mr. G.?”

I was tempted to talk to Jack Entratter first, but two things stopped me. First, I would’ve had to wake him and second, I really did owe it to Sammy to call him. After all, I was sure he’d be waiting to hear what happened.

We collected Jerry’s suitcase from his room and then drove to my house. I didn’t bother checking him out of the hotel. I figured we might have use for his room later on.

When we got to the house he went to check out the kitchen while I called Sammy.

“Eddie, goddamn, man, I’ve been waiting for you to call.”

“I know, Sammy, I’m sorry.”

“How did things go?”

“Not the way anyone planned, I think.”

“What do you mean?”

I told him the whole story, how nobody showed up and how we found a body inside the warehouse, shot to death.

“You had somebody with you?” he asked.

“Yeah, somebody I trust to watch my back,” I answered, “but I didn’t tell him why we were there. I mean, what we were supposed to be buying.”

“What about this dead guy? Did you know him?”

“Never saw him before.”

“Did you … I mean, I don’t know what you do when you find a body. Did you … search him? Try to find out who he was?”

I lowered my voice and said, “I just did a quick search to see if he had the … object on him.”

“And did he?”

“No,” I said, “but he had something else.”

“What?”

“A six-gun.”

“A what?”

“A six-shooter, Sammy,” I said. “Like the ones you had in your holster the other day.”

“My guns are here, Eddie.”

“Do you have any others, Sammy? At your house, maybe?”

“Well, yeah …”

“Can you call May and see if they’re all there?”