I'm a Fool to Kill You (2 page)

I hadn't had anything to do with hiring her, and I didn't much mind having her at one of my tables, but even from where I was standing I could see that she was – at best – inept. Not only was she clumsy with the cards, but she wasn't standing when she was supposed to stand, or hitting when she was supposed to hit. In short, she was a looker, but she was costing us money.

I waved over Zack, one of our regular dealers, and told him, ‘Relieve Rachel.'

‘I'd love to relieve her of—' he started, wiggling his eyebrows.

‘Just do it, Zack.'

‘But . . . it ain't time.'

‘Yes,' I said, ‘it is. And then send her right over to me.'

‘Uh, sure, boss,' he said, once he realized I was serious.

He went over and tapped her on the shoulder. She frowned at him, listened to what he had to say, then looked over at me. I nodded. She put her cards down, clapped her hands together once, then left the table.

‘Mr G., I—'

‘Take the rest of the day, Rachel.'

‘But . . . why?'

‘We'll have a talk tomorrow morning.'

She stared at me and asked, ‘Like . . . over breakfast?'

‘What?' Then I realized what she meant, and felt stupid. ‘No, no, it's nothing like that, kid. Geez, I'm not hittin' on you!'

‘Oh. Well then, wha—'

‘I'm the boss, right?'

‘Right.'

‘So I'm tellin' you to take the rest of the day off, with pay, come to work tomorrow, and then we'll talk. OK?'

She stared at me like she still didn't think I was on the up-and-up, then said, ‘OK, Mr G.'

‘Good. Now get outta here.'

She shrugged, turned and walked away. Every male head within sight of her shapely butt watched it leave, including me. Then I turned and saw the dealers all looking at me, wondering if I was fucking her.

‘Deal!' I growled at them. Now all I had to do was figure out what to do with her, because she was never going to make a good blackjack dealer.

Later in the day Dean Martin showed up at the blackjack tables. He, Frank and Sammy were all in town to play the Sands. It wasn't the entire Summit – not without Joey and Peter – but it would do. The Copa Room would be filled the next three nights.

‘Hey Dino,' I said.

‘Eddie G.,' he said, shaking my hand warmly. ‘Good to see you, Pally.'

He looked sharp in an expensive suit, his only jewelry a watch and a pinky ring on his left hand.

‘You wanna play a little? Or deal?' Dino was known to deal a little blackjack and pay the pretty ladies off on 22.

‘No, not today,' he begged off. ‘I'm just here checking on a friend. Well, the friend of a friend . . . of a friend.'

‘You're making me dizzy.'

‘You know how it works. Friend of a friend of a friend?' He had a cigarette in his right hand, held it between his forefinger and middle finger and used his thumb to bend his nose.

‘Oh, a friend of Momo's?' Momo was Sam Giancana, number one man in the mob in those days. And a good friend of Frank's. He would like to have been friends with Dean, but the wise guys didn't fascinate Dean the way they did Frank. If Dean was doing a favor for Momo, his favor really was for the Leader.

‘Now you got the picture, Pally. So where is she?' He looked around. ‘I'm supposed to check on her.'

‘On who? Where's who?'

‘Rachel.'

I swallowed and asked, ‘Rachel?'

‘Yeah, she's supposed to be the new dealer. Didn't Jack tell you?'

‘He told me he hired her,' I said. ‘He didn't tell me why, or who she was. Who is she?'

‘Just somebody's . . . niece.'

Right, I thought, somebody's
Goumada
was more like it.

‘So where is she?'

‘I gave her the rest of the day off.'

‘Isn't this her first day?' Dean asked.

‘Well, yeah . . .'

‘Oh boy,' Dean said, ‘was she that bad?'

‘No, I just – we need to find somethin' – I have to talk to Jack in the morning about her.'

‘Look, Eddie,' Dino said, ‘you don't have to hide anything from me. I'm just doin' somebody a favor by asking.'

‘The truth is,' I said, still being careful, ‘she needs more training.'

‘More training?'

‘Some training,' I said. ‘She needs training . . . in something.'

‘She as good looking as I heard?'

‘Oh yeah . . .'

‘Well, OK,' he said, spreading his hands. ‘Listen, you wanna get some dinner later?'

‘Sure.' When would I ever turn down Dean Martin's invite to dinner?

‘Good,' he said. ‘There'll be a car out front after the show.'

‘What about Frank?'

‘He's got Nancy and the kids in town, gonna be spending time with them.'

‘And Sammy?'

‘Yeah, May's with him, so it'll just be you and me. That OK?'

‘Fine with me, Dean.'

‘Good, see you then.'

Dean waved, turned and walked back across the casino floor.

I was going to have to approach this very carefully with Jack. Although I wished he had told me we were dealing with some mob boss's ‘niece.' But the bottom line for Jack should also be that she was costing the casino money. All I was going to do was suggest that we get her some training as . . . something.

I got called back to the pit to OK a limit increase, and then got busy the rest of my shift. Afterward, I went to the locker room where I kept some extra clothes and changed into something appropriate for having dinner with Dean Martin.

TWO

D
inner with Dean after a show was usually a raucous affair. Frank, Sammy, Joey, Peter, sometimes other friends like Buddy Hackett and Buddy Lester (a comic actor and friend who had appeared in
Ocean's 11
), or Tony Curtis and Janet Leigh might show up. But on this particular night it was just Dino and me, and I gotta tell you, it was a thrill. I'd known Dean personally for a couple of years then, ever since the filming of
Ocean's 11
. I was a huge fan long before that, but although I now considered us to be friends, it was still a kick having dinner with him and getting all his attention.

We were at the Bootlegger Bistro on the South Strip, a traditional Italian restaurant that both Dean and Frank often patronized. The owner and the waitresses all made a fuss over Dean until he asked them to go away so he and I could talk.

See? That's what I mean. What a kick!

We talked about families – his, not mine – films he was going to make, and attempts to lure him to weekly television.

At one point he said, ‘We've talked about me enough, Eddie. What's goin' on with you?'

I told him I was still happy in the pit at the Sands, still had my little house away from the strip, and was still single with nobody regular in my life.

That was a mistake. He then went on about how important it was for me to find a woman, settle down and have a family. I told him none of that was really in my plans.

‘What happened to that pretty waitress you were seein'?' he asked. ‘What was her name?'

‘That didn't last, Dean, and she moved on. She doesn't live in Vegas anymore.' I was hoping he'd let it drop.

He did. Instead, we talked a bit about Marilyn Monroe, and how her recent death had affected us both. He said the movie he was supposed to be doing with her got scrubbed. He wouldn't hear of them replacing her.

I had met Marilyn through Dean, helped her survive a crisis, and was one of the last people she called before her death, a supposed – and apparent – accidental overdose just the previous month.

Dean told me he was looking at some scripts, wanted to do another western, but was also looking at a series of spy novels written by someone named Donald Hamilton. The character's name was Matt Helm, and he was some kind of super spy. Or, at least, that was the way Dean was thinking of playing him.

We finished dinner and had some coffee and cannoli for dessert.

‘Have you seen Frank yet?' he asked me.

‘No, not yet. Why, is there something wrong? Does he have a problem?'

‘No, no, nothing like that,' Dean said. ‘At least not that I know of. It's just . . .'

‘Just what?'

‘He's kind of different when he's around Nancy and his kids.'

‘Different how?'

‘Oh, sort of on his best behavior, you know? He doesn't want to give Nancy any reason to not let him see the kids.'

‘Are they all here with him?'

‘Yep, Nancy, Frank Jr. and Tina.'

‘Aren't they over eighteen?' I asked.

‘Not Tina,' Dean said. ‘She's fourteen. Frank Jr. is eighteen, Nancy's twenty-two and a beauty. Their mother could still keep him from seeing Tina if she wanted to.'

‘So Frank's gonna behave, huh?' I said, smiling. ‘I don't think I've ever seen that side of him.'

‘Well, he'll be the same on stage and in the steam room,' Dean pointed out. ‘It's just when he's around his family, you know?'

We went back to talking about Dean's kids after that, which was OK with me. He was proud of them. He was thinking that Dino Jr. was going to follow in his footsteps, but he was equally talented as a musician and a tennis player. He thought the kid would probably make a good pro tennis player.

Deanna, his daughter, was also talented, had a fine singing voice.

‘Well,' I said, ‘if you end up going on television with a weekly show, you could always have them on.'

‘You know, you're right,' he said. ‘I could do that. I could also have Nancy and Frank Jr. on. They both sing very well.'

‘Not Tina?'

‘Tina's the brainy one,' he said. ‘I bet if the other two have a career in show business it'll be with her behind the scenes. In fact, I'll bet she'd be a great producer.'

It was nice to hear how proud Dean was not only of his own kids, but of Frank's as well. To my way of thinking, this was the sign of a real friend.

THREE

A
s we continued our dinner we talked about other members of the extended family. Sammy was doing well and was happy with May. Peter was still on the outs with Frank over the JFK thing. I asked Dean if he had tried to intercede on his behalf but he said he stayed out of other people's politics, and that's what ‘this' was all about.

‘Is Frank still mad at Bing Crosby because JFK stayed there instead?'

‘That's the odd part,' Dean said. ‘No, he isn't. In fact, we're gonna do another film, this one called
Robin and The Seven Hoods
, and Frank wants to give Bing the part that was originally gonna be played by Peter.'

‘That is odd,' I said. ‘Why not be mad at Bing?'

‘I don't know,' Dean said. ‘He's not mad at him, or JFK. Only Peter.'

‘That doesn't sound right.'

‘Well, maybe you can talk to Frank about it. He values your opinions.'

‘Oh, no,' I said, ‘I'm with you when it comes to people's politics. Besides, I've never been that crazy about Peter.'

‘Why is that?'

‘I don't know,' I said. ‘Maybe it's that snooty British attitude of his.'

Before we left the restaurant we managed to somehow get on the subject of Dean's old partner, Jerry Lewis.

‘Seems Frank thinks I should appear on Jerry's Labor Day telethon.'

‘I guess Frank doesn't feel the same way about stayin' out of other people's business.'

‘Well, it's not a political thing, between Jerry and me, and Frank likes to see himself as a Mr Fix-It.'

‘With other people's relationships?'

Dean nodded.

‘Are you gonna do it?' I asked.

‘Nah,' he said. ‘Maybe some day, but not this year.'

I had met Jerry only once, when he played the Sands, but had not spent any time talking to him. I knew Jack Entratter considered him a friend, but Jack had lots of friends I didn't talk to.

Dean paid the bill and we got back in the limo and returned to the Sands.

‘Nightcap?' I asked him, in the lobby.

‘No, I don't think so.' People were pointing at him and staring. Any minute one of them was going to come over and ask for an autograph.

‘I'm gonna go upstairs and call Jeannie and the kids. I miss 'em when I'm away.' He slapped me on the back and said, ‘Give the family thing some thought, Eddie. I'm tellin' ya, it's great.'

‘See you tomorrow, Dean,' I said. ‘Maybe I'll come and see the show.'

‘You do that. I think we're gonna drag Buddy Lester up there since Joey's not in town.'

‘I'd like to see that.'

‘OK, see ya then, Pally.'

‘Say hello to Jeannie for me. She was a real help when I was in L.A. a few months back.'

‘I'll tell her.'

He headed for the elevator and I headed for the casino floor. Technically, I wasn't on the clock, but I usually liked to walk through if I was around, see how things were going.

As I walked past my pit one of the dealer's called out, ‘Mr Entratter was lookin' for you, Eddie.'

‘He say what he wanted?'

‘Not to me,' the dealer said.

‘How long ago?'

‘'Bout an hour.'

‘OK, thanks.'

‘What do I tell him if he comes back?'