Fly Me to the Morgue by Robert J. Randisi Page A

to lie in wait for me in my own house? We’d said it more than once, Danny, Jerry and I, that we hadn’t done anything this time. We were actually in the clear, hadn’t shot at anybody, hadn’t killed anybody.
    I shucked my clothes, hung up what had to be hung up and tossed the rest into the hamper and noticed that it was laundry time. Maybe Frank Junior would like to accompany me to the laundry when I dropped my clothes off the next day.
    Yeah, that’d be the day.
    I decided not to worry about anything until morning and went to bed.
    I woke at six, wondering whatever possessed me to agree to meet Jerry for breakfast at eight.
    I showered and brushed my teeth, put on jeans, a polo shirt with a collar, and sneakers. Real casual. Then I put all my laundry into a bag and carried it out to the car. On the way to the Sands I dropped it at a Chinese laundry.
    I found Jerry in the Garden Room, working on a pot of coffee and waiting for me, like the morning before. Only this time we didn’t have to drive to the desert. He was wearing a sports jacket and pants. I hoped the jacket wasn’t to hide his gun.
    â€˜â€™Mornin’, Mr G.,’ Jerry said.
    â€˜Jerry,’ I said, sliding in the booth across from him. ‘Pancakes today?’
    â€˜You know it, Mr G.’
    â€˜I think I’ll join you.’
    When the waitress came over I told her two orders of pancakes for Jerry, and one for me.
    â€˜Comin’ up, Eddie.’
    I watched her as she walked away, but couldn’t remember her name.
    â€˜They all know you, Mr G.’
    â€˜Yeah, Jerry,’ I said. ‘I guess they think they do.’
    â€˜What are we gonna do today?’ Jerry asked.
    â€˜I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘I guess we should talk to Bing. His lawyer is supposed to find out if there’s any family for him to buy that horse from.’
    â€˜He still wants to buy the horse?’
    â€˜Is it worth buying?’
    â€˜I don’t know, Mr G.,’ he said. ‘I never did get a real good look at it.’
    â€˜So if Bing is still interested, he’ll want you to check it out.’
    â€˜Hey, as long as he’s payin’ the freight, I’m willin’ to stay.’
    â€˜Jerry, we’re gonna have to deal with the cops, pretty soon,’ I said. ‘Maybe even our old buddy Hargrove.’
    â€˜Hey, I figured that, Mr G., when I found the dead guy. I even thought about coverin’ him and leavin’ him there.’
    â€˜Without telling me?’
    â€˜Well, it was a just a thought. What’s the dick doin’ today?’
    â€˜Nothin’, as far as I know,’ I said. ‘There’s nothin’ for him to do.’
    â€˜He could solve the murder.’
    â€˜Not while the cops are workin’ on it,’ I said. ‘He’s got a license to consider. Besides, nobody’s payin’ him to solve it.’
    â€˜What about Mr C?’
    â€˜I think he’s happy to let the police work on it,’ I said. ‘He knew the man as a trainer, but I don’t think they were friends.’
    The waitress came with the pancakes, set them on the table in front of us, provided syrup and a fresh pot of coffee.
    â€˜Anything else, Eddie?’
    â€˜No, thanks a lot.’
    She left and we dug in. We were only halfway done when a man I wasn’t looking forward to seeing, walked in the door.
    â€˜Jerry.’
    â€˜Yeah, Mr G?’
    â€˜You don’t have your gun on you, do you?’
    â€˜No, Mr G. It’s still hidden in my suite.’
    â€˜That’s good.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜Remember we were talkin’ about Hargrove before?’
    â€˜Yeah.’
    â€˜Well, speak of the devil and up he pops.’
    â€˜Damn,’ Jerry said, ‘is he gonna ruin my breakfast?’
    Hargrove spotted us and came walking over.
    â€˜I think he’s gonna give it the old college