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

“We’re both stayin’ with it.”

Jerry opened the envelope, rifled through the bills, saw that they were all hundreds.

“How much is here?” he asked.

“Ten grand.”

“For me?”

“And that one?” He indicated the envelope in my hand.

“Mine.”

“The same amount?”

“Yes,” I lied. No point telling him I’d only taken five thousand up front. “There’ll be a bonus if we can deliver the goods.”

“The goods being a picture of President Kennedy doin’ somethin’ illegal?”

“Doin’ somethin’ he shouldn’t be doin’,” I said, “but I can’t say it’s illegal. I can’t even say what it is because I wasn’t told.”

“We’ll know it when we see it.”

“If we see it,” I said, “and I’m still not sure I want to.”

“I don’t care what he’s doin’ in the picture,” Jerry said. “I didn’t even vote for ’im. So whatta we do? Buy it and not look at it?”

“If we can buy the entire roll of film, we’ll be able to do just that.”

“You’re figurin’ if we see the picture they’ll kill us, too?”

“Somebody might try,” I said, “but according to Joe Kennedy nobody workin’ for him will try it. He gave his word.”

Jerry laughed. “The word of a politician?”

“Yeah, I know. We can trust him about as far as we can throw him.”

“Why are ya doin’ it then, Mr. G.?”

I thought about the question. The money? The flag? To finish up a favor for Sammy?

“I kinda liked JFK when I met him last year,” I said, finally. “I got the feeling running for President wasn’t somethin’ he wanted to do. I think he’s lettin’ his father run his life-or ruin it.”

“Ruin it? How can bein’ President of the United States ruin your life?”

“I got the feelin’ when Kennedy was here last year he had interests other than … politics.”

“Like broads?”

“Like havin’ a good time,” I said. “That can mean women, it can mean a lot of things. But when Joe Kennedy lost his oldest son, Jack’s wants and needs suddenly came second. Now Jack is President and he’s got all the headaches that come with it. I figure the last thing he needs is some photo showin’ up in the papers givin’ him more.”

Jerry studied me for a few moments, then tucked the envelope full of money into his inside jacket pocket.

“I like the way you put all that, Mr. G.,” he told me, “so I’m in, too.”

We had breakfast planned with Sammy at a corner table in Harrah’s coffee shop but he was late. I was about to call his room when he appeared. There was a smattering of applause as the other diners recognized him. He graciously waved and shook hands but otherwise no one approached him as he walked to our table.

“Sorry I’m late, guys,” he said, seating himself, “but I got a call.” He leaned forward. “You know? A call.”

“I get it, Sam,” I said. “What’d they say?”

“They asked if I still wanted the photo.”

“And?”

“I said I wanted the whole roll of film like we agreed. They said okay, but the price is now seventy-five thousand.”

“Did you tell them what we discussed?” I asked. “Yeah, I told them they’d have to call you because you’re the go-between. She went crazy-”

“She?” I said. “The caller was a woman?”

“Yeah. I didn’t mention that?”

“No, you didn’t,” I said. “Try not to leave anything else out.”

The waitress came over and we ordered breakfast-omelet platters for the three of us.

“Okay,” Sammy said, “the phone rang this morning and I answered. I thought it might be you but it was a woman-a girl, actually.”

“What kind of voice?”

“Young, pretty … flirty.”

“Sounds like a lot of broads,” Jerry said.

Sounds like Caitlin, I thought.

“Go ahead, Sam.”

“After she cursed at me for a few minutes I got some backbone and told her that if she didn’t contact you, there would be no deal.”

“Nobody said you didn’t have any backbone, Sammy.”

“I said it,” Sammy said, then pointed at both of us and with a crooked smile added, “but I’m the only one who can.”

“Agreed,” I said.

He looked at Jerry.

“Hey,” the big man said, “you scare me.”

“Yeah, right,” Sammy said. “I’m about as big around as your leg.”

“Can we get back to business?” I asked. “What did the girl say?”

“She cursed some more, but then she agreed,” he said. “She’s gonna call you at noon today.”

“Noon,” I said. “We’ve got a lot of time to have a leisurely breakfast.”

“And while we do,” Sammy said, “you can tell me what you guys have been up to.”

“Me, I been in my room,” Jerry said, looking at me.

“Let’s get some coffee,” I said, “and I’ll tell you a story….”

The story went on throughout breakfast, and we were still eating by the time I was done.

“Man, that’s freaky,” Sammy said. “So I did catch JFK on film.”

“Doin’ somethin’ naughty,” Jerry added.

Sammy looked at him.

“You sound happy.”

“I didn’t vote for ’im.”

I left out the part about Joe Kennedy basically hiring Jerry and me to stay at it, but Sammy was no dope.

“I hope you’re gettin’ some scratch outta Joe Kennedy for this.”

“He’s payin’,” I said, “and he’s willin’ to put up the money for your buy.”

“Works for me,” Sammy said. “But you guys still have a problem, don’t you?”

“Namely?”

“If Kennedy is tellin’ the truth and his men haven’t been tryin’ to kill you, who is? And who killed the man in the warehouse?”

“I think we’ll find it all out when we get the film, Sammy.”

Before I was ushered from Joe Kennedy’s presence he pressed a business card into my hand. I now had a way of calling him, which, he said, not many people had.

“Let’s finish eating and go to my cabin,” I said to Sammy.

“We’ve still got some time.”

“I want to place a call and get that seventy-five grand. We’re gonna need it, because we are definitely makin’ this buy.”

We all went back to the cabin and I called the number Joseph Kennedy had given me. I didn’t get him, but instead talked to some minion who said the money would be hand delivered to me within the hour.

“Seventy-five G’s?” Jerry asked. “Hand delivered?”

“That’s what he said.”

“You got the power, Mr. G.”

“Not me.”

“You made the call,” he pointed out. “That’s all it took to get seventy-five grand delivered to the door. I don’t know about your world, but in mine that’s power.”

“The man’s got a point,” Sammy said. “I’m impressed.”

“Well,” I said, “let’s see if the money shows up.”

A messenger-a real messenger, with a uniform that said so-delivered an eight-by-ten envelope to the door within the hour, and before my noon phone call was supposed to come in.

I opened the envelope and there were eight banded stacks of bills in there, ten thousand a stack except for the one that had five.

“See?” Jerry said to me. “Power.”

“By the way,” I said to Sammy, “I’ve got your money here, in the other room.” Taking five stacks out of the envelope I added, “You might as well take it now.”

“Hey,” he said, taking the money from me, “you don’t have to offer me fifty thousand dollars twice.”

“Especially since it’s already your money.”

Sammy was standing there, fifty thousand in his hands, when the phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” I said.