Deadman's Bluff

44

Valentine was explaining to Bill Higgins and a homicide detective with the Metro Las Vegas Police Department how he’d sent Little Hands to the big craps game in the sky when the cell phone in his pocket vibrated. Pulling it out, he saw it was his son.

“Would you gentlemen excuse me for a minute?” he asked.

Bill and the detective both nodded solemnly. Before being sent away to prison, Little Hands had earned himself a reputation as the most vicious killer in Nevada, and Bill and the detective seemed to be having a hard time accepting that Valentine had managed to beat him in a fight, even though Little Hands was lying beneath a sheet only a dozen feet away. Stepping into the shade of a palm tree, Valentine answered the call.

“Hey, Pop, it’s me,” his son said.

“You still in Atlantic City?” Valentine asked.

“No, I took a plane out last night and just landed in Las Vegas. I made DeMarco’s scam, and figured I’d better fly out and help you put this to bed.”

Valentine didn’t know what to say. Gerry had beaten him to the finish line. He’d never felt more proud of his son in his entire life.

“You’re a star,” he told his son.

“Yolanda helped, and so did Mabel. And you put me on the scent, so you get credit, too,” Gerry said. “That’s the good news. Now here’s the bad. I think DeMarco is being played for a sucker by his uncle. He’s being used, Pop, and in a real bad way.”

“Used how?”

“This scam is dangerous. Scalzo is putting his nephew’s health in jeopardy, and I don’t think DeMarco knows it. Matter of fact, I’m sure he doesn’t.”

Gerry was jumping to conclusions, a bad thing to do in detective work. The facts were the facts and everything else was air. “How can you be sure, Gerry?”

“Because DeMarco could get sterile,” his son said.

Valentine had investigated plenty of scams where a member of the gang hadn’t been given a complete script of the play. In the end, that person usually got the raw end of the deal, and became a victim.

“Explain this to me,” Valentine said.

Gerry explained what he’d learned from the nurse who’d been having an affair with Jack Donovan. As scams went, it was one of the most ingenious Valentine had ever come across, but did contain a significant health risk. It wasn’t meant to be used in a tournament, where long-term exposure could be dangerous. Gerry was right. DeMarco probably didn’t know the risks he faced.

“That’s one heck of a piece of detective work,” Valentine said when his son was finished. “Maybe I should go to work for you.”

“That would be the day,” Gerry said. “So what do you think we should do?”

That was a good question. Valentine had been thinking about his conversation with Sammy Mann the day before, when Sammy told him that everyone in Vegas knew DeMarco was cheating, but weren’t going to do anything until after the tournament was over. He didn’t agree with that rationale, and now realized that he and his son were in a position to fix things.

“Meet me in Celebrity’s poker room in forty-five minutes,” Valentine said. “We’re going to put the screws to Scalzo.”

“I’ll be there,” his son said.

Valentine killed the connection, and walked back to where Bill was standing. The homicide detective had gone off to find the EMS crew he’d called for, and Valentine cornered his friend. “How much trouble are you going to get into if I go back to Celebrity’s poker room?”

“Plenty,” Bill said. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to go back to Celebrity’s poker room, that’s why.”

“Then wear a disguise. If you get caught, I can say I was in the dark.”

Valentine whacked his friend on the shoulder. “Thanks, Bill.”

He went to the clubhouse and found Gloria waiting for him, then got the rental and drove back to Celebrity. On the way they stopped at Target, where he purchased a floppy hat several sizes too large, cheap wraparound shades, and a neon green T-shirt that said SCREW THE KIDS—I’M DYING BROKE, which he put on in the store and left hanging out of his pants. To round out the picture, he added a little shuffle to his walk. He showed Gloria the transformation in the parking lot, and she burst out laughing.

“Do you really think that’s going to work?” she asked when they were on the road.

“Of course it will work,” he said.

“How can you be so sure?”

“There’s an old geezer robbing banks in Florida near where I live. He dresses just like this. I think he’s up to nineteen banks. They’ve caught him on videotape every time, but he keeps sticking them up.”

“Don’t the banks in Florida have security guards?”

“They do,” he said. “The old geezer walks right past them, gives the teller a note, takes his money, and leaves. The guards don’t pay any attention to him. It would be funny if the guy wasn’t breaking the law.”

He drove to Celebrity and left his car with the valet. As he and Gloria went through the front door of the hotel, he started to do his shuffle.

“You’re moving awfully slow,” she said.

“Need to conserve my energy for the buffet line.”

“Stop that.”

Once they were inside, she pulled him over to a secluded spot and gave him a kiss.

“I’m glad you’re not leaving Las Vegas,” she said.

Valentine got to test his disguise as he neared Celebrity’s poker room. One of the guards who’d escorted him out the day before walked past. Their eyes met, and Valentine touched the brim of his hat. The guard looked through him like he was invisible.

He and Gloria entered the poker room to find a mob of spectators crowded around a table containing the first prize, a whopping ten million bucks stacked like firewood. Shotgun-toting guards stood by the money, their steely eyes roaming the room. It was the biggest prize in professional sports, and according to the electronic leader board hanging over the feature table, DeMarco was the favorite to claim it.

He shuffled up to the feature table. It was bathed in bright lights, with DeMarco’s stacks of chips dwarfing his opponents’. DeMarco looked different than he had in previous days, his face drawn and serious, and Valentine wondered if his conscience was eating at him.

“Is that your son over there?” Gloria whispered. “He looks just like you.”

He spotted Gerry on the other side of the poker room and decided to give his disguise another test. He walked over to him and, getting no reaction, cleared his throat.

“Didn’t I see you on America’s Most Wanted the other night?” Valentine asked.

His son’s eyes went wide. “Pop? Is that you?”

“Keep your voice down.”

“Why the disguise?”

“I got banned from the tournament. You ready for a little payback?”

Gerry nodded enthusiastically. He hadn’t shaved and his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, but there was a spark in his face that said he was more than ready.

“Good,” Valentine said. “Here’s the plan. The players are going on break soon, and I’m going to confront DeMarco, and tell him the little game he’s playing is over. See that pretty blonde lady on the other side of the room? She’s a newscaster I met. She’s going to distract Scalzo and the bodyguard. I need you to cover her back in case something goes wrong.”

His son look frustrated. “Why don’t you just pull DeMarco off the table, and expose the scam? Then the police can arrest Scalzo.”

Valentine drew close to his son. “If I do that, it’s going to hurt every casino in Las Vegas, and in the long run, our business as well. Let me handle this my way, okay?”

His son’s face softened. “Sure, Pop. Whatever you want.”