Robert Randisi - Everybody Kills Somebody Sometime

I wasn’t able to find Angie Dickinson to speak with her. I was starting to think she was avoiding me.

I decided not to ask any of the others the same questions. I had a consensus now, and it seemed that the only one receiving threats was Dean.

For want of something better to do I decided to stick around the casino and wait for the show in the Copa to be over. Dean Martin had said he wanted to deal some blackjack tonight. He usually did that when there was a good-looking woman at the table. She’d bust withtwenty-two and he’d change the rules and tell her she won. It also drew a crowd, which I wasn’t convinced was a good idea tonight. I wished Jerry was around.

If I was going to be around the pit I’d have to dress better, though, but I wasn’t about to go back home without Jerry watching my back. I decided to change into a suit I kept at the casino in case of an emergency.

I had showered and was standing in front of a locker, tying my tie, when Jack Entratter walked in. A couple of dealers I knew were also getting dressed in front of their lockers and looked nervous as Entratter entered. As far as I knew Jack had never been in that locker room.

“You boys finished?” he asked them. “Yer shift is about to start.”

“Yes, sir,” one of them said. They both got the message and hurriedly left.

“What brings you down here, Jack?”

“I’ve been lookin’ for you everywhere.”

“I was talkin’ with Sammy and Peter Lawford, and a few of the others.”

“You didn’t tell them what’s goin’ on, did ya?” he demanded.

“I’m not stupid, Jack.”

“No,” he said, “sorry.”

“But Sammy’s no dummy, and Nick Conte knows Dean well enough to figure out something’s up.”

“Well, just leave it to Frank to fill them in when he’s ready.”

“That was my plan.” I finished with my tie and slammed the locker door closed. I didn’t lock it because I kept nothing of value inside.

“Why were you lookin’ for me, Jack?”

“You goin’ to the show tonight?”

“I wasn’t plannin’ to.”

“What are you dressed for, then?”

I told him about Dean wanting to deal, and my promise to be around.

“I want you to go to the show. Here.”

He reached in his jacket pocket, came out with a ticket and handed it to me.

“You need another one? Wanna bring a broad?”

“No,” I said. “One’s enough.” I pocketed it. “Why do you want me to go?”

“Because I trust you, Eddie,” he said.

“To do what?”

“The right thing.”

Entratter had a lot of men at his disposal, most of them like Jerry-pros.

“What’s this about, Jack?”

“I need someone to watch things, somebody who won’t embarrass me and the casino.”

“Embarrass you how? Come on, what’s goin’ on?”

He hesitated, then said, “You know about Frank supporting JFK for president, right?”

“Sure, who doesn’t?”

“Well, he’s gonna be here.”

“Who’s gonna be here?”

“Come on, Eddie, keep up,” he said, irritably. “Jack Kennedy. He’s gonna be at the show tonight.”

“Wait … the man who might be the next president of the United States is here?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do about it?”

“Just be there,” he said, “and watch.”

“Is his wife with him?”

“No,” Entratter said. “So you can see the potential for trouble here? A handsome Senator, presidential candidate, in Vegas with the little woman at home?”

“I see your point.”

“Where they go tonight,” Jack said, “you go. Promise me, Eddie.”

“What about Dean? He wants to deal.”

“If Frank takes Kennedy out, Dean will either go along, or just go to his room. So let him deal, and then see what he wants to do. If he’s in his room he’ll be okay. If he goes along, you’ll have to go anyway, to watch him.”

“I’m no bodyguard, Jack,” I said. “What about Jerry? Is he gonna get out tonight?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “We’re still workin’ on that. You gotta help me out, Eddie.”

“This goes above and beyond work, Jack,” I said. “Or even our original, uh, favor.”

“I know, I know,” Entratter said. “I’ll owe you, owe you big-time.”

It wouldn’t hurt to have Jack Entratter indebted to me.

“Whataya say?” he asked, anxiously.

“Yeah,” I said, “okay, why not? A night out on the town with Sinatra and JFK? Where’s the harm in that, right?”

“No harm at all,” he said, and then added, “I hope.”

There was a hum in the audience. JFK was sitting in the mezzanine and everyone was aware of his presence. They had to be because of his bodyguards. They stuck out with their broad shoulders and their scowls.

Kennedy himself was all smiles as he sat with a few men, but no women. As much of a womanizer as the world and I would come to know him to be in coming years, he was discreet in public, back then.

At one point Frank stopped the show to introduce “the next President of the United States, John F. Kennedy.”

I had a front row seat on this night, and from what I could see it looked as if Dean wasn’t as thrilled with JFK’s presence as Frank was. At one point Dean approached the mike and asked Frank, “What did you say his name was again?”

Frank gave Dean a look, but laughed. I wondered if and when politics would come between these two good friends?

The jokes flew after that, all at Kennedy’s expense, and he seemed to love it. When JFK was elected Sammy was to become Ambassador to Israel. Frank would be Ambassador to Italy. Joey Bishop had a much less grandiose request-he just didn’t want to be drafted ever again.

The show was a huge success, as always, but on that night the applausein the room was as much for John F. Kennedy as it was for the Rat Pack. Being Frank Sinatra’s friend was putting Kennedy over with the Everyman big time.

As it turned out, Dean didn’t deal blackjack that night. Frank had everybody up to his suite, including Kennedy. The champagne and booze flowed, and Sammy came in at one point with a bunch of showgirls in tow. Kennedy was in his element, smiling, back-slapping men and flirting with beautiful women.

At one point I saw Sinatra introducing Kennedy to Judith Campbell, a stunning brunette. I remembered how the other night Campbell was not too thrilled to have Bev back stage. She seemed very territorial when it came to Frank. Now Frank was pushing her toward Kennedy, who was only too happy to catch her.

“Look at ’im,” Dean Martin said, coming up alongside me.

“Frank, you mean?”

“He’s gonna help get Kennedy elected, you know,” Dean said. “And then he’s gonna find out the truth.”

“What truth?”

Dean looked at me.

“There’s no room in an Irish Catholic White House for wops, Eddie,” he said. “Frank thinks he’ll be a guest at the White House after the election.”

“And he won’t?”

“Not a chance,” Dean said. “Joe Kennedy will see to that. And you know what else? He’s gonna blame poor Peter.”

“When did Frank become so interested in politics?” I asked.

“He’s been a dedicated Democrat since he met FDR years ago. He was very impressed that a kid from Hoboken could actually end up shaking hands with the President.”

I studied Dean to see if he’d been drinking, but he looked stone sober.

“Look, Eddie,” he said, “I can see where this party’s goin’.”

He pointed to a showgirl who was taking one of the men withKennedy into a bedroom. I wasn’t sure if he was a politician or a bodyguard, but it was a safe bet he was going to get the blowjob of his life tonight. I looked around and saw another pairing being discussed in a dark corner.