got to have their loyalty.”
I wondered where that left his dead brother-in-law, Whitey Krakower.
“Well, I got to admit your Flamingo sounds like a money magnet,” I said, not as convinced as I seemed to be. “You’ll have customers lining up in the sand.”
He nodded, smiled slyly. “That’s where you and Rubinski come in. It’s like I said, I’m strictly legitimate now. See, it’s like me turning my bad check action over to Fred. Think about it. Where would you expect a guy like me to turn for action like that?”
“Well, to be honest, I’d figure you wouldn’t go to a private detective, at least not a straight one like Fred. You’d use some juice collector, some arm breaker.”
“Right. But a legit businessman, he doesn’t do that, does he?”
“Not that I know of.”
“So there are things I need guys like you and Fred for, from time to time, that if I turned over to some enforcer, or even somebody with a few brains like Mick, would be handled with no fuckin’ finesse. Which is bad for business.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
The sound of a motor launch approaching interrupted us.
Then Siegel said: “Fred says you used to be on the pickpocket detail, back in Chicago.”
I shrugged. “That was my first plainclothes job. Most of my ops are former pickpocket detail guys. Fred isn’t, though.”
“Right. At the Flamingo I got a little staff of ex-L.A. and Hollywood cops who are my private police force, only those assholes couldn’t catch colds. I could use somebody to teach ’em the ropes, for general security and especially at nabbing dips.”
“With a resort like the one you’re building,” I said, “you will have a pickpocket problem. No question about it.”
“Would you take that assignment from me?”
“I might be able to send a man out, or find somebody qualified through Fred…”
He poked the cigar at me. “I want
“I’m flattered, Ben, really. But I’m a businessman, too, and I have an agency to run.”
“I know all about being an executive. I sympathize. On the other hand, there’d be five grand in it for you for a week’s work.”
“When did you want me to come out?”
He grinned, making dimples that made Shirley Temple look like a piker. “You are a businessman, aren’t you, Nate? I like your style. Anyway, I’ll be in touch. I plan to open before the end of the year-I won’t bring you in till we’re closer to being up and running.”
“I think it’s only fair to warn you about something.”
“Oh?”
“Jim Ragen’s a friend of mine. And a client. Even for five grand…even for more…I won’t be party to anything that would put me in a conflict of interest with Jim.”
“Of course not,” Siegel said, talking around his cigar, “that would be bad business. But teaching my staff to spot and stop pickpockets has nothing to do with Ragen, does it?”
“Well, I just thought it needed to be said.”
“I know about you and Ragen. I know all about it. It doesn’t bother me.”
“It doesn’t?”
“Why should it? Ragen’s no worry to me.”
“Flat on his back in the hospital, you mean, all shot up?”
“I wish he was up and around.”
That knocked me back a bit. I said, “Why in hell?” Thinking:
“Ragen’s business is good for my business,” he said, flatly.
“That doesn’t make any sense…”
Siegel smiled, almost to himself. He pitched the cigar over the side and turned and looked at me and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m not a schmuck. Do I look like a schmuck?”
“No.”
“You were Ragen’s bodyguard when the hit went down. You swapped slugs with the shooters, who if they were my people woulda got the job done, by the way. And you been keeping guard on his hospital room. Am I right?”
“To a tee,” I said, feeling very uncomfortable with that friendly hand on my shoulder.
“It stands to reason that Ragen would hire you to find out who took the contract out. I mean, you’re his friend, and you’re already in his employ, and you got certain Outfit connections but you’re not in their pocket. Who else would he hire?”
“Pinkerton?” I asked.
“No. Nate Heller of the A-l Detective Agency at Van Buren and Plymouth. The guy who helped nail Bioff and Browne without even pissing Nitti off, which is a fucking miracle. And which opened some doors out here for me, thanks very much. You figure-Ragen figures-this hit coulda been bought by only one of two people: me or Jake Guzik. Guzik’s probably trying to make you and Ragen believe it was me behind it. Meanwhile he’s probably trying to negotiate a buyout, at the same time he’s trying to sneak somebody into Ragen’s hospital room to ice him. Am I cooking with gas here, or what?”
“Both burners,” I admitted.
He took his hand off my shoulder; looked out into the darkness. “From what I hear about Ragen, he must be a great old guy. I love it the way he’s standing up to those bastards. Those Outfit guys, they always want something for nothing. Out East we learned you work for what you get. Anyway, I’d be lying if I said I like Ragen, ’cause I only met him a couple of times, so I can’t even say I know him, really. But I wish him the best of luck.”
“You wish him the best of luck?” I asked. My mouth hanging open lower than Mickey Cohen’s.
“Sure. If he goes under, well, hell-sooner or later, I’m out of business.”
“I don’t get you. He’s your competition.”
Siegel laughed. “He’s no competition to me. Early on we had some rough stuff, sure; Mickey roughed up Ragen’s son-in-law, Brophy, back when we were trying to break in the L.A. market. But things have settled down since. Now, if I go in a wire room, or one of my boys does, they buy what I’m sellin’. No questions asked. If they like Ragen’s service better than mine, well they buy his too. How does that hurt me?”
“Not at all,” I admitted.
“I’m pulling in twenty-five grand a week on Trans-American, Nate. That’s my end alone. Sweet numbers, I’d say.”
“So would I.”
“If Ragen sells out, or if he dies and his family sells out, the Outfit will take over Continental and my pals back east, having business arrangements with Guzik and the boys, will cave in and shut Trans-American down. And I’ll be out of business.”
“I never of thought it like that,” I said.
“I hope Ragen lives forever,” Siegel said, his smile big and benign, “and I hope he hangs on forever with his business, too, fighting those bastards tooth and nail.”
I was shaking my head, wondering why I hadn’t figured it. “You really didn’t hire the Ragen hit, did you?”
“Of course not. It wouldn’t make any fucking sense at all.” He laughed. “You know, you got a great little girl there, Nate. I’m gonna hate to lose her.”
“What?”
“Peggy Hogan. She’s your girl. I know that, and not just ’cause Georgie and Tab both told me. I got my sources. I’m going to hate to lose her, ’cause she’s got a great head for figures. I’d put her in charge of my whole office staff if she’d give up working for her uncle and move west permanent. But I bet she wouldn’t do that, or leave you behind, either.”
