Arnie puts on his jacket and slouches out. Gritch shakes his head. He thinks I should can Arnie. I’d like to. I cut Arnie extra slack as a personal favour to Lloyd Gruber, keeping him on staff long past the point I would have fired someone without an in-house connection.
“While he’s mooching around on Floor Eleven looking for free hors d’oeuvres, Maurice has probably ushered three working girls up the back way,” Gritch says.
“You get hold of Dan?” I ask him.
“His wife says he’s sleeping. I think he’s playing cards somewhere or trying to hitch a ride home from the track. She says he’ll call as soon as she can wake him up, which means track him down. I should have told her to try his mother’s place.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Not me, pal.”
I pick up the phone. “Melanie, Joe Grundy. We need a room on fifteen. Can you move somebody? Give ’em a better view or something? I’ve got Arnie standing in the hall up there, but we don’t need that all night. Yeah, I’ll be here.”
“So?” Gritch isn’t satisfied with the way his cigar stump is drawing.
“He’s going to give it away.”
“Who what?” He’s looking for matches.
“The kid upstairs. He’s handing it out to anybody who shows up.”
“That’ll make him popular.” He locates a forgotten Bic lighter in the second desk and fires up.
“The whole six hundred and eighty-eight million.”
“Is he nuts?” Gritch has it going again.
“I don’t think so. He’s kind of a sweet guy. That’s how he comes across. But we’ve got a problem. He’s holding a press conference in the morning. Once word gets out…”
”?“He’s going to hand it out here
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll go watch the lobby.”
“Maybe you should get some sleep,” I suggest. “Use my bed. I’m good for four hours or so. I’ll wake you up.”
“I’ll go doze in the lobby with one eye open.”
“Yeah, okay, but not with that thing.”
He takes a last blast off the cigar and leaves it behind to die a natural death in the ashtray.
Melanie calls back as soon as I’ve flushed the cigar stub down the donniker. “Mel? What did you get?”
“You can have 1507,” she says. “I moved the Bryants to the corner suite on nine. It’s a better room. They’re happy. You want 1507 made up?”
“Leave it messy. It’ll be fine. Tell Margo I’ll keep somebody in there all the time with the door open a bit. Keep an eye on who goes in and out. I’ll come see her as soon as I set it up. You’re the best.”
When I get back up to fifteen, Arnie is leaning against the wall near the elevators like a guy who wants to sell reefers to kids. I open 1507. Melanie’s got us a good base camp. With the door open a foot or so, you can see both of the Governor’s Suite’s doors, 1502 and 1504. I move a chair over beside the door.
“Keep the lights on, but don’t play the television,” I tell Arnie. “Just watch until Dan gets here, maybe an hour, then you can go home. But I’ll need you back by nine in the morning.”
“I’m supposed to get a day off.”
“You’re going to get double time for the extra hours, Arnie, and all you have to do is sit up straight and pay attention. If that’s too tough for you, then you can walk. Permanently. You hear what I’m saying?”
“I’m just saying —”
“You’re just complaining, Arnie, which is what you do most of the time when you aren’t filling your face. Normally, I don’t mind a whole helluva lot, but tonight I’d appreciate it if you’d just do the job.”
Arnie doesn’t bother to argue anymore. He plunks himself in the chair like a kid who’s been cuffed on the back of the head, then fumbles inside his jacket pocket for a bag of M&M’s. “What am I looking for?”
“Trouble,” I tell him. “We don’t want any.”
I go back down to the main floor again where I find Margo in Lloyd’s office, looking beleaguered. She tilts her head when I walk in. Axelrode is still there, sitting in the corner. Margo’s eyes shift to indicate the guy and then back to me with an eyebrow jump that tells me she wants him out of there.
“Mr. Axelrode,” I say, “is there anything else we can do for you, sir?”
“I still think you’re going to need some professionals,” he says. “You’re going to have big problems when he starts shooting off his mouth on TV. You’re going to have every freeloader on the coast lined up with their hands out.”
“Are you associated with Mr. Buznardo, sir?”
“I have an interest in his security and the security of the cash he’s carrying.”
“You with a bank?”
He looks annoyed. He doesn’t like explaining himself. “No, I’m not with a bank.”
“Oh,” I say. “Because if you don’t have any official relationship with Mr. Buznardo, perhaps you could worry about his welfare somewhere else. Ms. Traynor has a big hotel to run.”
He stands again. I think he’s used to things happening when he stands. “I’m not at all satisfied things are being attended to.”
“There’s a good jazz club down one flight.” I’m crowding him towards the door. “Or you could wait in the lobby. For a while.”
Axelrode stops, glares at me, doesn’t like people in his face. He stretches his neck to show me how ready he is. “If anything happens to Mr. Buznardo, I’ll be asking some serious questions.”
“Why don’t you go and talk to Mr. Buznardo yourself and tell him how concerned you are? He seems like a nice enough guy. Very welcoming.”
He sneers. “He’s an idiot, and I wouldn’t piss on him if he caught fire. But it’s my job to keep an eye on him until they can clean up the mess he’s made.”
“And who would ‘they’ be, sir?”
He gives me a scowl he probably saves for lower life forms and stalks out.
“Thanks,” Margo says.
“How long has he been here?”
“He went out for a while, said he had to make some calls, then waltzed back in and started telling me what’s wrong with our operation. He was pretty thorough.”
“You know where he fits into this?”
“He says he works for Prescott Holdings. Up until this afternoon Prescott Holdings controlled more than a half-billion dollars of the late Parker Prescott’s money.”
“I guess it’s hard to let go sometimes.”
“How many people have you got, really?”
“It’s thin,” I tell her. “Black Jack’s taking his week. He’s fishing the Kispiox. No way to get him. Arthur Blomquist went to work for NightWatch.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Good man. I couldn’t match what they were offer ing him.”
“How much were they offering?”
“The company, more or less.”
“Maybe we