Robert Randisi - I'm a fool to kill you

‘You don’t think so, Eddie?’ she asked. ‘You don’t think it feels. . rough?’

I rubbed my hand along her face and said, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything smoother, or softer.’

Then I got self-conscious and pulled my hand away. She was, after all, Frank’s ex, and I was there representing him.

She drew on the cigarette again and said, ‘I decided to leave Spain for a while, travel. . Actually, that’s not true. I was approached to be in a film that Blake Edwards is shooting in Rome called The Pink Panther. The Producer, Martin Jurow, came to see me. He found me in Madrid and practically begged me to be in it. It should have been flattering, but instead it went to my head. I was. . horrible to them, demanded that they move the shoot from Rome to Madrid to accommodate me. Finally, Jurow slipped a note underneath my door.’

‘Uninviting you?’ I asked.

She nodded.

‘I can’t blame them, really,’ she said. ‘Since then I have been all over Europe, to New York, here in L.A. and then. . nothing.’

‘What do you mean, nothing?’

‘I mean, I can’t remember. I. . blacked out. And I woke up in a hotel room in Chicago.’

‘What hotel?’

‘The Drake, I think.’

‘And what else?’

‘I had. . blood on my hands.’

‘Blood? Are you sure?’

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘What did you do?’

‘I washed it off. I checked my clothes. There was blood there, too.’

‘Where are those clothes?’

‘I. . packed them for some reason, but when I got here I threw them in the back of the closet in the bedroom.’

‘Wait here.’

I went into the bedroom to the closet. In the back, on the floor, in a crumpled mess I found a blouse and a bra, both stained with what looked like blood. But there was also a silk nightie with blood on it, as well. And the towel she must have used to dry her hands was stained red. I wrapped the blouse, bra and nightie in the towel and left them there, then went back to her.

‘Was I dreaming that too?’ she asked.

‘No,’ I said. ‘There’s blood on them all right.’

‘Oh God. .’

I crouched down in front of her and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look me in the eyes.

‘Come on, Ava. Think. What happened?’

‘I. . don’t know. I have been thinking for the past three days. I can’t recall.’

‘All right,’ I said, ‘tell me this. How much time did you lose in this blackout?’

‘I. . I figured it was about forty hours.’

Eight hours shy of two days. A lot of damage could be done in that much time.

I was about to ask another question when there was a knock at the door.

‘Eddie!’ She became very frightened.

‘Go into the bedroom,’ I told her. ‘Stay there. It might just be a bell boy coming for the dishes, but don’t come out. You’ll be able to hear what’s being said.’

‘All right.’

She hurried into the bedroom, leaving the door ajar.

I opened the door, half expecting and fully hoping it would be Randy, the bell boy. It wasn’t. It was two guys in suits with ‘cop’ written across their foreheads.

‘Are you Eddie Gianelli?’ one of them asked.

‘Who’s askin’?’

They both showed me their nice shiny detective badges.

‘L.A.P.D.,’ one of them said. ‘Detectives Reasoner and Crider.’

‘Which is which?’ I asked.

‘I’m Reasoner,’ the spokesman said. He was a little shorter and broader than his partner, but they were both about the same age, mid-forties. My guess was they had been partners for a long time. ‘Would you mind coming with us?’

‘What’s this about?’ I asked.

‘A cab driver named Larry Carver,’ Crider said. ‘Although, it seems somebody might have thought he was you.’

‘I see. Couldn’t I come down to headquarters in the morning and make a statement?’

‘I’m afraid we’re on the job now, Mr Gianelli,’ Crider said. ‘We need you to come now. I’m sure your friend, Miss Johnson, won’t mind.’

It seemed they didn’t know that Lucy Johnson was Ava Gardner. That was good.

‘Would you mind if I tell her where I’m going?’ I asked. ‘She’s in the, uh, bedroom.’

The two men exchanged a glance that wasn’t hard to read.

‘Sure,’ Reasoner said, ‘go ahead.’

‘Can I tell her when I’ll be back?’

‘Before morning,’ Crider said, then added, ‘probably.’

‘Probably,’ I said, nodding. ‘Thanks. I’ll be right back.’

‘Wouldn’t be another way out in that bedroom, would there, Mr Gianelli?’

‘Actually, there isn’t,’ I said, ‘but why would that thought occur to you, Detective? I haven’t done anything I should be running away from.’

‘That’s good to hear,’ Reasoner said. ‘We’ll just wait here, sir.’

Those detectives were being a little too nice, for my taste. Not what I was used to from the Vegas cops.

I backed away into the bungalow, but left the front door wide open. I walked into the bedroom, kept that door closed. Ava rushed up to me.

‘Who is it, Eddie?’

‘It’s the police,’ I said, ‘they want to talk to me about what happened outside earlier tonight.’

‘That man who was beat up?’

‘I think so,’ I said, ‘but I’ll have to go with them to find out for sure. I’ll be back in a little while.’

‘Are you sure?’ she asked. ‘I mean, are you sure you should go with them?’

‘I don’t think they’re asking, Ava,’ I said.

‘Do they know about me?’

‘No,’ I said, ‘they referred to you as Lucy Johnson. They don’t know who you really are, and I think we should keep it that way.’

‘I think so too, Eddie.’

‘Unless you want the police to help you find out what happened, Ava.’

‘No!’ she said, eyes wide. ‘No, Eddie. For all I know. . I hurt somebody. Or. . or killed somebody. I can’t go to the police. There’d be publicity!’

‘OK, Ava, OK,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to get goin’ before they come lookin’ for me.’

‘Eddie-’ she said, and abruptly gave me a big hug. I held her tight and breathed in her scent. I found out later that she wore Acqua di Parma.

‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

I left her standing in the middle of the bedroom.

They didn’t take me to their headquarters, as I’d thought they would. They took me to the Cedars-Sinai Medical Center.

‘This is where the cab driver, Larry Carver, was taken after somebody worked him over,’ Reasoner said, as we got out of their car. ‘We understand he was waiting for you in the lounge?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Why?’ Crider asked.

‘He drove me there from the airport,’ I said. ‘I thought I’d need him, so I asked him to wait.’

‘Cabbies usually wait in the cab,’ Reasoner said, ‘with the meter running.’

‘I made a deal with him to come inside and wait,’ I said. ‘I was gonna use him for the rest of my errands.’

‘Your errands,’ Crider said, ‘we’ll get to those later, Mr Gianelli.’

‘Let’s go inside,’ Reasoner said.

We entered the hospital through the front door, not the emergency entrance. Just inside we stopped.

‘This is as good a place as any,’ Reasoner said. ‘You took the cab from the airport?’

‘That’s right.’

‘You mind tellin’ us where you came in from, Mr Gianelli?’

‘Las Vegas.’

‘Now we can get to your errands,’ Crider said. ‘What brought you to L.A.?’

I’d had time in the car to think about what my answer would be if they asked this question.

‘There are several high rollers living here who owe the Sands quite a bit of money,’ I said. ‘I came to collect.’