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

“You never reported it missing?”

“I told you, none of them are registered.”

I thought a minute, then said, “Okay. Forget it. It doesn’t change anything right now. We still have to deal with this.”

“You still haven’t called the police?” Sammy asked.

“No,” I said, “and as far as we know a body hasn’t been found. At least, it wasn’t on the news this morning.”

“But you’re gonna call ’em?”

I looked at Jerry, who looked away. I knew his thoughts on the subject.

“I feel like I have to.”

“Of course.”

“It’s gonna be found sooner or later,” I reasoned.

Sammy nodded, added another stubbed-out butt to the ashtray and lit up a fresh cigarette.

“What about this?” he asked. “What are we gonna do with this?”

We all stared at the gun.

“Well, it’s yours.” Jerry and I still hadn’t touched it.

“But it may have killed someone.”

“We don’t know that, but yeah, it may have.”

“Get rid of it,” Jerry said.

Sammy and I both looked at him.

“Throw it in the lake.”

Sammy looked at me.

“I do that, we’ll never know,” Sammy said.

“What’s the difference?” I asked. “The guy’s dead.”

“If we throw away the murder weapon, how will they ever find out who the killer was?” he asked.

“If you don’t get rid of it,” Jerry said, “they could use it to prove you did it.”

Sammy looked at me and I shrugged.

“Jerry knows more about this stuff than either one of us.” I looked over at the big guy. “Keep going, Jerry.”

“If the dead guy is one of the blackmailers,” Jerry said, “who cares who killed ’im? You didn’t, right?”

“Of course not,” Sammy said. “I was here-I was on stage last night.”

“We don’t need an alibi, Sam,” I said.

“It’s more likely the blackmailers got into it and one of them shot the other one.”

“So what do you suggest we do?” Sammy asked.

“Like I said, get rid of the gun,” Jerry answered. “Then sit and wait for somebody to get in touch with you.”

He sat back in his chair.

“He’s more than just muscle, huh?” Sammy asked.

“And he can cook,” I said.

I never should have said anything about Jerry being able to cook, because that reminded him that he was hungry. Again, true to his word, he had made breakfast for us earlier in Vegas. But several hours had passed, erasing all memory of a full stomach.

“When’s the last time you ate?” I asked Sammy.

“I don’t remember.”

We called room service and ordered three full breakfasts and a pot of coffee. Jerry and I didn’t finish our drinks, but Sammy did. In fact, booze was probably all he’d had since the night before.

“Sammy, why don’t you go take a shower,” I suggested. “By the time you come out the food’ll be here.”

“Yeah,” Sammy said, rubbing one hand over his face. “Yeah, okay.” He stubbed out the cigarette. “I’ll be right back.”

I hoped he wouldn’t light another butt in the shower.

“We gonna stick around today?” Jerry asked.

“Might as well. They didn’t get their money last night, so somebody’ll probably make contact today, right?”

“I would.”

I grabbed the three drink glasses, went to the bar, emptied Jerry’s and mine into the sink, and left all of them there.

“He don’t look so good, Mr. G.,” Jerry said.

“I know. Let’s see if we can get some food into him, and then maybe we can get him to lie down.”

“We could slip him a mickey.”

I stared at him. Did he just happen to have a pill in his pocket?

“Forget it,” I said. “He’s so tired he’ll fall right to sleep.”

“Or I could just give him a little love tap, ya know, to put ’im out?”

“No love taps on Sammy Davis Jr., Jerry,” I said.

“Yeah, okay.”

I sat back down and waited for either Sammy or room service, whichever came first.

“I don’t hear a shower running,” Jerry said.

“Maybe’s it’s too far away.”

“This suite ain’t that big.”

“I better check.”

I got up, went down the hall and into the bedroom. Sammy was lying on the bed, fast asleep. He’d never made it to the shower.

Jerry finished off both breakfasts before I finished mine.

“I think I’ll call down for some sandwiches,” I said. “That way Sammy can eat something when he gets up.”

“Sandwiches are good,” he said. “Get some extra.”

I shook my head.

I called down and ordered the food, then hung up and walked to the window. There wasn’t much to see. The suite’s window overlooked the back parking lot.

“If the phone rings we’re gonna have to wake him up,” Jerry said.

“Maybe not,” I said. “They know I was the go-between. They’ll probably talk to me.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Jerry gathered the plates and trays together so room service could take them away when they came with the sandwiches. I lifted the coffeepot and shook it. Maybe one cup left.

“You want some coffee?” I asked him.

“Naw, you have it.”

Why do people do that, I wondered? Offer someone else the last of something when they really want it themselves? I poured myself the cup, glad that he’d turned it down.

When the sandwiches showed up they looked good-so good that Jerry asked, “Mind if I have one now?”

“Just leave one for Sammy,” I said.

“No problem.”

As the guy left with the tray from breakfast, I thought I should have ordered another pot of coffee.

“Jerry, any soft drinks behind the bar?”

“Some Coke, I think. You don’t want another bourbon?” he asked.

“I didn’t finish the first. Too early.”

“I could mix it with the Coke.”

“Bite your tongue.”

I got a bottle of Coke from the fridge behind the bar and used the opener attached to the underside of the bar. Jerry and I got back in our chairs.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked.

“We wait,” I said, “for Sam to wake up, for the phone to ring, for a note to be delivered … we just wait.”

“And if they don’t make contact today?”

“We’re going back to Vegas tonight,” I said. “Sammy can call us.”

“Call you about what?”

We looked up and saw Sammy walking into the room. He looked a little rested, and fresh from a shower, but he was still dragging.

“A new meeting place,” I said. “If they don’t call or make contact today. You got a show tonight, Sam?”

“No, not tonight,” he said. “We’re goin’ to Dino’s show tonight, right? With Frank?”

“I forgot about that,” I admitted.

“I’ll get dressed,” Sammy said, “and we’ll all go to Vegas.”

“Slow down,” I said. “Have a sandwich. We’ll stick around here a while longer, give them a chance to call, and then we’ll head to Vegas.”

Sammy sat down on the sofa and accepted the sandwich Jerry retrieved from the fridge. He unwrapped it and took a bite.

“Anybody else want some coffee?” he asked, with his mouth full.

Nobody called.

Nobody sent a note.

Nobody came to the door.

After Sammy called Frank at about 3 P.M. he told us, “Frank’s gonna meet us at the Sands. We got a front table for Dino’s show.”

“Fine,” I said. “We might as well get back.”

“He got me a room at the Sands,” Sammy said. “I’ll change there. Where’s the driver?”

“Waiting in the lobby, I hope.”

“Call down and have him phone the helicopter pilot,” Sammy said. “I’ll be right with you, and then we can go.”