Read Online You Make Me Feel So Dead by Robert Randisi - Free Book Online

you, though.’
    He opened the door and allowed me to enter the room.
    â€˜Hey, Mr G.,’ Jerry said. He was sitting at an interview table, and I noticed he was not handcuffed.
    â€˜Hey, Jerry,’ I said. ‘What’s goin’ on?’
    He shrugged and said, ‘The usual.’
    I sat opposite him.
    â€˜Can we talk here?’ I asked.
    â€˜Nope.’
    â€˜Have they charged you?’
    â€˜Nope.’
    â€˜Is there anything you can tell me here and now?’
    â€˜Yeah,’ he said, ‘I didn’t kill anybody.’
    â€˜Who got killed?’
    â€˜Some guy.’
    â€˜You don’t know him?’
    â€˜Never met him,’ Jerry said, ‘never saw him before. They can’t pin this on me. No motive.’
    â€˜So what do we do now, big guy?’
    â€˜We wait,’ Jerry said. ‘They gotta let me outta here sometime.’
    â€˜Entratter is sending a lawyer,’ I said, ‘so it may be sooner than you think.’ I reached across the table and patted his arm. ‘Sit tight.’
    â€˜I’m an expert, Mr G.’
    I nodded, stood up and left the room. Hargrove was waiting outside.
    â€˜Well?’
    â€˜I got nothin’,’ I said, figuring he had heard the whole conversation, anyway. ‘Except that he says he didn’t kill anyone.’
    â€˜Yeah,’ he said.
    â€˜Jack Entratter is sending a lawyer,’ I told him. ‘I’ll wait around for him.’
    â€˜Then you better come to the squad room.’
    He led the way to a room full of desks and, consequently, filled with cops.
    â€˜That’s my partner,’ he said, pointing to a smallish man sitting behind one of the desks. He had wispy blond hair that was thinning, making him look older than his mid-thirties, which was probably what he was. ‘Detective Martin.’ He looked at me. ‘No relation to Dino. Henry, this is Eddie Gianelli.’
    Martin nodded to me. ‘I’ve heard about you.’
    â€˜Nothin’ good, I’m sure,’ I said. ‘What’d you do to get stuck with Hargrove?’
    â€˜Just got lucky.’
    â€˜Another new partner, Hargrove?’ I asked, as he sat behind his own desk. ‘You go through partners like I go through …’
    â€˜â€¦ laws?’
    â€˜I don’t break the law,’
    â€˜Naw,’ Hargrove said, ‘you just bend ‘em right up to the breaking point.’
    I declined to comment on that.
    â€˜Henry, Mr Gianelli says his boss, Jack Entratter, is sending a lawyer to get Jerry Epstein out.’
    Henry Martin was sitting back in his chair with his head supported by his right hand against his cheek.
    â€˜We don’t have anything on him, Hargrove,’ he said. ‘We could let him go before the lawyer gets here.’
    â€˜Not a chance,’ Hargrove said. ‘Let ‘im sweat.’
    â€˜You’ve dealt with Jerry before, Hargrove,’ I said. ‘You really think he’s sweating?’
    â€˜I don’t care,’ Hargrove said. ‘He’s been in Vegas what, half a day? And already I’ve got a body, with him on the scene.’
    â€˜Who got killed?’ I asked.
    Hargrove didn’t answer, so I looked at Martin. He took a notebook from his pocket.
    â€˜William Reynolds,’ he said, ‘male, white, thirty, five-foot ten, one sixty, all according to his driver’s license. Also according to his license, resides in Los Angeles.’
    â€˜So what was he doing here?’ I asked.
    â€˜We don’t know,’ Martin said, closing the book. ‘Gambling?’
    â€˜How did he die?’
    â€˜Shot,’ Hargrove said.
    â€˜With what?’
    â€˜A gun,’ he said.
    â€˜I assumed that much,’ I said. ‘What caliber?’
    â€˜Thirty-eight,’ he said, ‘and before you say anything else, I know where you’re going. Your buddy doesn’t have a gun on him, and when he