Max Collins - Neon Mirage

I chewed on that for a while. Then I said, “I want to ask you something, Ben-and I need a very straight answer.”

“Ask and I’ll answer,” he shrugged. “Straight.”

“If I find out somebody’s been screwing you, where your black market supplies are concerned, what are you going to do about it?”

“Put a stop to it, what else? Oh. I get you. You don’t want to be part of any rough stuff.”

“I understand Miss Hill is allergic to cactus. Well, I’m allergic to being an accessory to murder.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about that. I’m on my good behavior out here. I’m a legitimate businessman, after all. I’m building a tourist trap, Nate-neither me nor my backers are about to spill any blood in this sand. The only killin’ in Vegas is gonna be the one I make when the Flamingo opens, day after Christmas.”

Virginia Hill, smirking as she sucked up her sixth stinger, said, “Me, I wish you’d just sell the crummy joint, before you fall the fuck apart.”

Siegel whipped his face around till it was bearing down on hers; his baby blues had turned to ice. Sedway was eating his food, calmly, seemingly oblivious to all this; Peggy was obviously unnerved. As for La Hill, she smiled at Ben blandly, untouched by his withering gaze.

“I’m not falling apart, and don’t ever call the Flamingo a crummy joint, understand?”

“Sure, Ben, sure.”

“Falling apart,” he said. “What the hell do you know about it?”

All the insolence melted away in her expression and she took his chin in her fingers and beamed at him in an apple-cheeked way that belied everything I knew about her. “I just think you deserve a rest, honey, that’s all. I think you should think about handing the Flamingo over to the boys- and take a piece of the action, a nice piece, for putting your heart and soul in it. And then go to Europe and live a little. Rest a little. You’ve earned it, the easy life.”

His expression softened and he smiled back at her, the long lashes fluttering over the no longer icy blue eyes. “Maybe down the road. Right now, I don’t want to think about that-my baby ain’t even born yet. But thanks, Tab. Thanks for thinking of me.”

“Your best interests are all I ever have in mind, baby,” she said, butter wouldn’t melt.

I thought I saw something like a smirk, and a disgusted one at that, pass over Peggy’s face; but it was momentary and she returned to picking at her modest plate of food.

“So, Nate,” Siegel said, turning his benevolent gaze on me, “tomorrow morning we get started?”

“Sure,” I said. “But I got to caution you-I have a work problem that may take me back home on short notice.”

“Oh?”

“You know how it is,” I said, evasively, “when you run your own business. Damn thing’s falling apart without me.”

He nodded that he understood, said, “But I’d be very disappointed if you didn’t stick around.”

At least there was no menace in the voice.

I said, “I’d have Fred Rubinski send somebody top-notch to replace me.”

“You’re who I want, Nate.”

I waved it off. “It probably won’t happen, but I just wanted to be up-front with you, Ben.”

“I appreciate that,” he said, and he finally began to eat his steak, which was surely cold by now.

After dinner, he painted a picture of the gala opening he was planning, including dozens of Hollywood stars that George Raft and Billy Wilkerson were lining up for him. He had Jimmy Durante and Xavier Cugat booked in as the floor show.

He was still holding court, the little group drinking cocktails, when at a few minutes after ten I stood and excused myself.

“Where you headed?” Siegel wondered.

“To my room,” I said. “Train travel tires me out.”

“I’ll walk you there,” he said, and he did.

As we ambled down the hallway to 404, he put his hand on my shoulder and said, “I wanted to ask you something in private, Nate. Something personal.”

“Sure, Ben.”

“Did you take this job to get near Peggy Hogan again?”

“No,” I lied.

“I wouldn’t stand between you two, if…”

“There’s nothing between us anymore,” I said. That, I feared, was no lie.

He took his hand off my shoulder. He seemed almost embarrassed as he said, “I figured maybe this afternoon you might run into her, and sort the thing out…”

Had he planned it?

I said, “I did run into her. But like I said, there’s nothing between us, now.”

“Maybe you still got feelings that she doesn’t.” He made a clicking sound in his cheek. “That kind of thing can be rough. I figured maybe that was why you said something about going back to Chicago. Maybe the situation was making you uncomfortable…”

“I thought Virginia Hill was your girl, Ben.”

He shrugged, smiled his usual dazzling smile. “She is. And she’s a lot of girl. A lot of woman. Ain’t she a handful? She’d tell the Pope to go to hell.”

“What about Peggy?”

He shook his head no, the smile gone. “There’s nothing between her and me, either-strictly business.” And the smile reappeared, but a modified, only moderately dazzling version. “I think maybe she’s kind of sweet on me, but I’m not gonna take advantage of that, cute kid though she is. She’s gonna go far with my organization, if she wants to. Normally, I’m not much on career girls, but she’s got a good business head. Maybe it’s because she’s got Jim Ragen’s blood in her.”

“I can remember having Jim Ragen’s blood on me.”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that, Nate?”

“Nothing. I just…I’m just not crazy about getting involved in your business, Ben. Even though you are legit, these days. I’d like to shake this rep I have of being a mob hanger-on. Doing work for you isn’t going to help that.”

He was looking at me carefully, like a bug collector studying a specimen. “You did come out here to take her home, didn’t you? And you found out she doesn’t want to go back with you, and now you want to run out on me?”

I let out a sigh that must’ve betrayed how weary I was. “I don’t know, Ben. It wasn’t exactly like that. But it wasn’t exactly not like that, either.”

“Stick around, Nate. Time is short, and I need your help-a couple ways. There’s ten grand in it, if you stick it out till after the opening.”

That was a lot of money. Normally, I would’ve done jumping jacks in the nude in Marshall Field’s window, for dough like that. But in my present mood I didn’t much give a shit.

I said, “I’ll give you my decision first thing tomorrow morning, Ben.”

“I’ll respect what you decide, whatever it is. I like you, Nate. I think we could work well together.” He extended a hand, and smiled again, and we shook hands, and I found a smile to give him back. He walked back down the hall-swaggered, actually-and I shook my head and went into my room.

I sat on the edge of the bed; the Indian chief on the wall was staring at my balefully. Peggy wasn’t what was bothering me. Siegel himself was. He’d bitten off too much, here. Like all bad executives, he wanted to run his whole operation; thought he had to do every little job himself; thought only he was up to the job, any job, every job. For a smart guy, it was a stupid way to do things. And it would kill him.

Maybe literally, considering the people backing him. Six million bucks was a lot to spend pursuing a pipe dream, particularly when you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing where making it a reality is concerned. I’d seen first hand that the Last Frontier, while doing okay, was not exactly attracting land-office business. Siegel looked at the stretch of desert that was highway 91 and saw some vision of the future, a neon mirage that might or might not turn real someday. Whichever, I had a very strong feeling that this fabulous arena Siegel was erecting was nowhere I wanted to perform.