Smoke and Mirrors

47

Standing at attention in the vast hospitality suite, windows at his back, Pierce Mulvane watched as workers finished assembling an architectural model of the River Royale resort. The model, made in Los Angeles by a company that built scale models for use in movies, had cost a great deal of money, but it would all be expensed. Press releases would show dignitaries standing behind the model, and pictures of it would be used to illustrate brochures and vacation articles. The model would then be moved downstairs in the lobby and placed on a table for public viewing while the actual complex was completed.

The River Royale, situated far south of the other casinos in Tunica County, would eventually cover over three thousand acres. The model depicted indoor tennis courts, swimming pools, fountains, two eighteen-hole golf courses, a spa, the casino itself, designed to replicate a palace in Monaco, a seven-hundred-room hotel, five mini-villas, a concert hall, a four-screen movie theater, a promenade with high-end specialty shops, heliport, and eight restaurants. The closest competing casino would be fifteen miles away, as if any casino could compete with a world-class, one-stop destination where gaming was the core profit generator, though it appeared to be only one more method of entertainment for the guests.

Pierce looked at the model, and although it wasn’t physically apparent, a large section in the center of the project stood out-the parcel that Kurt Klein didn’t yet own. Looking at it, Pierce felt another wave of nausea rise within him.

The workers finished their task and left without saying anything. Pierce had hardly noticed until he turned to find Tug Murphy waiting for him.

“Yes, Tug?”

“Klein’s guy, Steffan Finch, wants to see you.”

“Again? I shouldn’t keep him waiting…long, I suppose.”

“It’s a beautiful resort,” Tug said, nodding in the direction of the model.

Pierce rubbed his hands together briskly. “We have a great deal to accomplish and not much time to do it in. I wonder if Albert knows more about this Beals thing than he’s said.”

“That could be,” Tug said.

“I wish I knew everything that’s going on. Maybe it’s best I don’t. Given the circumstances, deniability may be my best friend,” Pierce said as he lifted a tiny golf cart and moved it from the cart path to a fairway. He thought, Maybe Herr Klein has done me a huge favor by being so damned secretive.

Across the desk from Pierce Mulvane, Steffan Finch sat, his sunglasses still on. Beside him, a visibly nervous Albert White sat twiddling his thumbs.

Finch said, “Instead of waiting until Tuesday, Herr Klein will be arriving tomorrow from Atlantic City. I have some good men coming in with Herr Klein to handle his personal security needs.”

“I told Mr. Finch that if he needs anything from us, I will arrange it,” Albert White said.

“Quite a bit of bother over this Beals fellow,” Finch said. “When I spoke to Herr Klein earlier, I mentioned its being on the news, and he indicated I should place myself at your disposal in case this threatens to expand into something larger.”

“Yes,” Pierce said. “If it does, we’ll make sure you are kept apprised.”

Albert said, “It was a very unfortunate thing. Beals seemed to be completely trustworthy. It appears, however, that he was up to something on his own.”

“His connection to this casino should be of no concern,” Pierce said. “Isn’t that right, Albert?”

“No way this can come back on the casino,” Albert said, straightening his tie and shooting Pierce a nervous glance. “I can assure you he wasn’t acting on our behalf.”

“Herr Klein is always concerned about blowback, and my job is to address his concerns. These are very important people who can’t afford to be associated with any hint of scandal. So tell me what you know about Beals’s escapade. Herr Klein says that you are to level with me.”

Pierce said, “Well, I mentioned to Albert that I wished I could discover how a certain young man was managing to cheat this house. Albert asked Jack Beals to talk to the young man to find out how he was cheating. I have no idea who killed Beals. He was making himself useful to a certain someone whom Kurt sent to help with a land complication, and perhaps that man may have decided to take matters into his own hands for some reason not known to us. I mean, Kurt-”

“You’re mistaken,” Finch said, interrupting. “Have you seen anyone sent here by Herr Klein? Did Beals tell either of you that he had been helpful to anyone who was dealing with any problems for Herr Klein?”

“Of course not,” Pierce said quickly. “You?” he asked White.

“I’ve seen nobody. I just told Beals-as Mr. Mulvane told me to-that when someone approached him and used the name Pablo that he should do whatever this person asked him to, and that Pablo would compensate him directly. Jack never told me he had been approached, but I had also told him never to mention it again,” Albert said, smiling uncomfortably. “That’s all I know, and I only know that much inside this room, between us. Mr. Mulvane told me to find someone that could be trusted, and I picked Beals since he has always performed with professionalism. And, as a lifelong resident of Tunica County, he could furnish information on the Gardners. Is it possible this Pablo killed him so he wouldn’t have to pay him? Or to keep him quiet? I mean, with Beals dead, nobody else has even seen Pablo-if he actually ever arrived.”

“I see,” Finch said. “Beals was someone you could depend on. Isn’t it possible that this cheater had someone watching his back who was in the room when Beals went inside?”

“I didn’t know he killed that girl,” Albert said. “Out on the Gardner plantation.”

“The girl yesterday?” Mulvane said, turning his eyes to exchange glances with White, who nodded.

White said, “The sheriff said so on the news a little while ago. They searched Beals’s house, according to my source at the department, and found the rifle used to kill the girl, and close to two hundred grand.”

“Where did Beals get that kind of money?” Mulvane asked immediately. “We don’t pay him anywhere near that much.”

“He might have inherited it, sold something, saved it up, I guess,” White said. “Maybe Pablo paid him that money for helping him.”

“But you can’t be sure it wasn’t stolen from us,” Pierce said. “I mean, if he was embezzling, that makes him appear more criminal and less like he could have been acting on our behalf, like he told that gambler. Right, Albert?”

“He was never alone with large sums of cash. None of my people are.” White seemed confident.

“Nobody pays that kind of money to a helper, not even a full partner,” Finch said.

Mulvane opened his hands expansively. Albert was being slow on the uptake. “Well, obviously he was stealing from us, which means he didn’t get paid to kill anybody, or anything that would need further looking into. We were victims too. Exactly how much money was found?”

“One hundred and eighty thousand, two hundred twenty dollars,” Albert said. “And he had an arsenal in that house. Like thirty guns.”

“Well,” Finch said, clapping his hands together. “I see we’re on the same page here. I’ll tell Herr Klein all of this when I see him. No sense bothering the man with details, is there? He’s not really interested in details, just the overall picture.”

“Of course not,” Pierce said. “Not at all.”