Funny Money

11 Debt

To reach Archie Tanner’s penthouse office, Valentine had to take an elevator to the main floor, cross the casino, then talk to Archie’s personal secretary through an intercom, who then sent a private elevator down.

As Valentine waited for the elevator to arrive, he saw a woman with streaked hair and fingernails painted in custom car colors win a jackpot on a slot machine. The woman started screaming like she was having twins. Soon management would come and pay her off. And comp her room, give her tickets to a show, the usual sweet grease. And she’d go home a few days later, broke. They always did.

“Can I give you some advice?” he asked.

The woman smiled coyly. “Well... that all depends.”

“Run,” he said.

Archie’s private elevator deposited him in a hallway facing an ostentatious wall of chrome and glass. A door without handles buzzed open and he went in.

“Mr. Tanner is on a conference call,” the secretary said. “Please go in and make yourself comfortable.”

Walking around the desk, he opened the mahogany door to Archie’s office. The door had come from a sunken pirate’s ship discovered off the Florida Keys. It wasn’t pretty, the wood stained and gnarly, but that had never been the point.

Inside, he found Archie at his desk, screaming profanities at the intercom. His shirt was unbuttoned, exposing the jungle of blue-black tattoos adorning his chest. Valentine took a seat, pitying the poor saps on the receiving end of his tirade. He watched Archie take off one of his shoes and start beating the desk.

“Did you hear what I just fucking said? The Micanopy Indians can’t do that! The law says they can’t, the governor of Florida says they can’t, and I say they can’t! You get that useless fucking Florida Department of Law Enforcement to raid that fucking reservation and rip those machines out. And if you don’t, I’ll fly down there and kick your asses until your noses bleed!”

“Yes sir,” several voices chorused meekly through the box.

“Good-bye!”

Hanging up, Archie slipped his shoe on. Then he came around the desk and fixed them drinks at the bar. Moments later they were sitting in a pair of cushy leather wing backs, enjoying the suite’s spectacular view.

“Chief Running Bear of the Micanopy tribe is trying to fuck me,” Archie explained. “The chief used to wrestle alligators in the Everglades. Now he’s running a casino on his reservation and thinks he’s a player. Florida law restricts the kind of games he can operate. So what does Running Bear do? He smuggles in a truckload of video poker machines and offers to split the profits with the state. Over my dead body.”

Video poker was the most popular game of the last ten years and generated enormous profits. Any casino benefited by having them, and Valentine said, “I thought the reservations were protected by the U.S. Constitution.”

Archie scratched his chest like a monkey. Outside it was snowing, The Bombay’s multicolored neon sign painting each flake a different hue. “You think I’m going to let the Indians get the upper hand before I open my casinos? I’ve got the governor of Florida in my back pocket. Those were his aides I was just talking to.”

Valentine watched Archie’s face grow flushed as the drink took hold. Then he said, “I’ve got some bad news for you.”

Archie stared at him, waiting.

“The European who killed Doyle showed up in your casino today.”

“Did Porter jam him?”

“I made Frank back off.”

Archie’s face twisted in anger.

“He got away,” Valentine added.

Archie shook his forefinger in Valentine’s face. “What kind of little league horseshit is that? He got away. If we didn’t go back so far, I’d run you out of town.”

The casino owner cursed him out for another minute. When he was done, Valentine said, “There’s more.”

“You’re a bad news buffet,” Archie said.

“Your blackjack tables aren’t safe. The European has come up with a new system. I’m as fooled as everyone else.”

The Waterford tumbler left Archie’s hand and flew across the room, shattering against a bookcase. “You’re fooled? So what the hell are you suggesting I do?”

“Close down, dismantle the tables, give every employee a polygraph test. Otherwise, you’re a lame duck.”

Archie leaned over, breathing gin on Valentine’s face. “I can’t close down. To use an eighties expression, I’m leveraged up to my fucking eyeballs. The Bombay’s cash flow is what’s paying for my deal in Florida.”

Valentine swirled the ice cubes in his drink. He wanted to ask Archie if he had enough money to pay him, but didn’t want to go there just yet.

“You want my advice?”

“Yes,” the casino owner said emphatically.

He put his soda on the antique coffee table. “Distribute flyers in the casino with the European’s picture. Offer a reward for his arrest. It’s not the best solution, but it will keep the European from playing, and that’s all you can ask for.”

“You’re saying I should swallow my pride, and admit I got ripped off.”

“Yes,” Valentine said.

“We’ll never catch the European then, will we?”

“Once the flyers appear, he’ll leave town for sure.”

Archie got up and went to the window. The snow was coming down heavily, making it hard to see. Valentine stared at Archie’s reflection in the glass. The casino owner looked worried.

“I’ll do it,” he said. “but only if you agree to keep working for me.”

Valentine joined him by the window. “Doing what?”

“Find the European.”

There was real worry in Archie’s voice. This scam had cut deep, and not just because six million had flown out the window. It had shown him how vulnerable he was, and Valentine had a feeling that Archie wasn’t going to sleep well until the European was out of the picture.

And neither was Valentine.