“I know. Ben hired you. For pickpocket work.”
I nodded. “He approached me months ago. Back on the S.S. Lux.”
“Did you say yes then?”
“More or less. He approached me again, through Fred Rubinski, who I’m in business with now. The money is good. It’s cold in Chicago. Good time of the year to go west. As Elmer Fudd says, west and wewaxation at wast.”
She shook her head, smiled again, sadly. “I think you came looking for me, Nate.”
“So do I. But I also came for the money, and the sun.”
“The sun. How many times last summer did I get you to the beach?”
I thought. “Three times?”
“Once,” she said. “Nate, it’s a mistake.”
“What is?”
“Coming here. A part of me still loves you, but it’s over. I don’t want either one of us to get hurt. It’s just not going to happen again, do you understand?”
“I don’t understand, but if you want me to keep my distance, fine. I may be pudgy these days, but I still don’t have to force my intentions on women.”
“You’re a good-looking guy, a good catch for any girl.” She pointed at her half-exposed bosom, which was droplet pearled. “Except this girl.”
“You got a new guy, is that it?”
“That’s not really any of your business, at this point, is it?”
“No need to get nasty. Just don’t tell me you want us to be friends, Peg. I’m not good at that.”
“I know. Me too.”
“It runs too deep. I can’t turn it into being pals. I might be able to turn it into hate. I could work on that, if you want.”
She swallowed. Her eyes were as wet as her swim suit. “I don’t think I’d like that.”
“Okay. Then why don’t I just love you at a distance, and you can feel about me however the hell you care to, at a distance, and I’ll do this job, and put half a continent between us as soon as possible.”
She nodded. She stood. “I think you should pass on the job, too.”
“Why?”
“This is a bad time to be around Ben.”
“I hear he’s under a lot of pressure.”
She nodded. “He’s very brave, and very smart. But I’m afraid for him.”
“Well, if he called me out here to be his bodyguard, I’ll be on the next plane out. The last time I took a job like that, everybody got burned.”
“Including…” She shook her head. Not finishing it.
I finished it for her: “Including your uncle. You know, if you insist on getting attached to headstrong gangster types, you’re going to spend a lifetime crying over spilt blood.”
“You can be cruel sometimes.”
“Sure. I learned that from life. And from Chicago.”
“Same difference,” she said.
“Are you still Virginia Hill’s secretary?”
“No. I’m working for Ben. His confidential secretary.”
“That sounds very high-tone. What about La Hill?”
“She’s in and out of here. She’s allergic to cactus, doesn’t like the climate.”
“But she doesn’t like leaving her boyfriend’s side, either.”
“No,” she admitted. “She goes on buying trips. She’s helping him decorate the Flamingo. The hotel part, anyway.”
“Is she here now?”
“Yes. She’s over there with him this afternoon.”
“That must be hard on you.”
“What?”
“Knowing he’s with her.”
“What do you mean?” She bit off the words.
“Well, you love him, don’t you?”
She squinted at me. Hatefully. Upper lip curling. But she said nothing.
“I thought so,” I said.
“It’s none of your business,” she said, and she turned and walked quickly away. Her legs were tan and bore not a trace of fat; the cheeks of her sweet ass showed under the cut of the black swim suit. I wanted her, in every way you could want a woman.
I dove back into the cool water, but it didn’t do any good. I was a goddamn detective with a detective’s goddamn instincts. I climbed up on the side of the pool and water ran down my face, from my wet head, although a salty taste was mixed in.
“I thought so,” I said again, to nobody.
The rest of that afternoon slipped away from me. I left the pool and returned to my room, dressed casually and found my way to the moderately busy casino, where I played blackjack till I lost what I’d won earlier, drinking several rum cocktails brought to me gratis by the cowgirl waitresses who kept the customers well lubricated and free spending.
At around seven I was back in my room and, thanks to the free drinks and a general glumness that had settled over me, I managed to fall asleep again, taking nap number four of the day. When I awoke, the room was dark but for a bathroom light I’d left on, and it was after eight.
Must’ve been hunger that woke me, because my gut was burning. The last food I’d had was a sandwich and fries on the dining car of the train. I couldn’t quite bring myself to wear a sportshirt to supper, so I put on my other suit, which had hung out pretty well by now, and went down to the restaurant.
Like the casino, the Last Frontier’s dining room was doing good if not spectacular business. I wasn’t the only guy wearing a suit in the rough-paneled room, but apparel again was definitely dude ranch, not Monte Carlo. I helped myself to the elaborate “chuck wagon buffet,” which I was relieved to find was not serving up the sort of pork-and-beans and barbecue fare one might expect. In fact, there was an ice sculpture of a swan lording it over a lot of fancy food items, particularly salads and cold cuts, fussily arranged on platters by a chef who obviously did not have “Come’n get it!” in his vocabulary.
I was sitting in a booth by myself, working on my second plate, seeing just how much rare roast beef a human could eat, when Ben Siegel and his party came in.
Siegel, looking very tan, was wearing a maroon sports jacket and navy slacks and alligator shoes; he wore no tie, the points of his off-white shirt’s collar reaching down so that one touched the embroidered BS on his breast pocket, from which came a slash of lighter maroon silk handkerchief. On his arm was Virginia Hill; she was wearing a black halter-top and matching slacks, her reddish brown hair pinned up. She wasn’t tan at all, her mouth a scarlet gash in her pale face; she’d put on some weight but carried it well. She didn’t look hard to know, as more than one mob guy had put it. Bringing up the rear was Sedway, in his black suit and red tie, and Peggy who alone among them looked touristy in her white eyelet blouse and full blue and white vertical-striped skirt. Peggy was not on Sedway’s arm; in fact, she stood apart from the mole-like Moe. Her make-up was subdued.
Siegel didn’t notice me at first; Virginia Hill did. She tugged his sleeve and pointed me out. He smiled like he’d spotted an old friend, and motioned his party over to the table reserved for them, and headed my way.
I patted a napkin to my mouth, slid out of the booth and shook hands with him.
“Good to see you, Nate. Why don’t you join us?”
Without waiting for my answer, he stopped a passing waiter and instructed him to move my food and iced tea (I’d had enough cocktails for one day) over to the larger table across the room where his party was even now ordering drinks.
He slipped an arm around my shoulder and we walked over there.
