You Make Me Feel So Dead by Robert Randisi

up her phone. ‘Mr Gianelli is here.’ She hung up. ‘Go in.’
    â€˜Thanks.’
    I shook off the icicles and entered Jack’s office.
    â€˜What’s going on?’ Entratter asked as I approached his desk.
    â€˜Can I sit?’
    â€˜Go ahead,’ Entratter said. He had a cup of coffee at his elbow. ‘Want somethin’?’
    â€˜No,’ I said, ‘I won’t be here that long. I was really just checking for messages.’
    He raised his eyebrows. ‘Are we your message center now?’
    â€˜I lost contact with Jerry,’ I said. ‘I thought he might call here to check in.’
    â€˜You talk to the girl?’ I don’t think I had ever heard her name. I could be wrong.
    â€˜I did,’ I said. ‘I got no message and the cold shoulder.’
    â€˜What are you and Jerry doin’?’ Entratter asked. ‘Elvis ain’t in town yet, is he?’
    â€˜No,’ I said. ‘I think he might be coming tomorrow, but I haven’t heard, yet.’
    â€˜Should I alert my girl to take that message, too?’ he asked.
    I almost said no, but instead said, ‘You know, maybe you should.’ I wondered what the Ice Lady would do if she picked up the phone and Elvis Presley was on the other end, again?
    â€˜Yeah, I suppose so,’ he grumbled. ‘What about the Colonel?’
    â€˜Still on the lake, I guess.’
    â€˜And Frank?’
    â€˜In his suite,’ I guessed. ‘He says he’s gonna hang around to go to Elvis’ show.’
    â€˜That should be interesting.’
    â€˜Yeah, Elvis says he’s gonna introduce Frank.’
    â€˜
That
should be interesting,’ Jack said again, with a different inflection.
    Entratter’s phone rang several times, but his girl did the answering.
    â€˜So why are you still here?’ he asked.
    That was my cue. I stood up.
    â€˜Keep me up to date on where you are and what you’re doin’, Eddie,’ Jack said. ‘And try to stay out of jail.’
    â€˜What’s that supposed to mean?’
    â€˜That means that when you and Jerry and your friend Danny mix, one of you always ends up in jail.’
    I couldn’t argue with that.
    But …
    â€˜What makes you think Danny’s involved?’
    â€˜History,’ Entratter said.
    I couldn’t argue with that, either.
    â€˜I’m out of here,’ I said.
    â€˜Good,’ he said, and turned his attention back to whatever was on his desk.
    When I got to the outer office his girl looked up at me. She seemed to have something to say, and was unhappy about it.
    â€˜You do have a telephone message, Mr Gianelli,’ she said. ‘It came in while you were with Mr Entratter.’
    â€˜Thank you,’ I said. I waited, and she finally handed me a slip of paper from a pink message pad, with a pained look on her pretty-but-stern face.
    That done, she immediately put me out of her mind.
    I took the message out to the hall with me, just to get to a warmer climate. I looked at the slip, expecting it to be from Jerry. It wasn’t.
    â€˜Please come to my suite as soon as you get this,’ it read.
    Underneath was the name of the person who had left the message: Frank Sinatra.
    I went directly to the elevators and took one to Frank’s floor. When the Chairman of the Board calls, you answer.

SIXTEEN
    T his time when Frank offered me a drink I accepted. In minutes we each had a bourbon in our hands, although Frank would have preferred a Martini or a Manhattan.
    â€˜I heard from the Colonel,’ Frank said, leaning on his side of the bar. ‘So far he’s pretty happy with you.’
    â€˜Is he?’ I asked. ‘I haven’t done anything, yet.’
    â€˜He heard you went to Graceland,’ Frank said. ‘Elvis liked you. What did you do there?’
    â€˜We shot targets, ate, and watched movies.’
    â€˜Interesting,’ Frank said, sipping his