Super Con

Four

Billy’s crew was inside the Beauty Bar, the ladies getting pedicures and drinking martinis, the guys chugging beer and watching sports on the assorted TVs. Travis had departed, and Billy guessed the big man had Ubered it home. He hadn’t appreciated Travis’s comment about needing money. It was bush league, and it hinted at bigger problems.

“Leon needs us,” he told his crew. “Let’s go.”

The sideshow that was Fremont Street was in full swing, and they sifted through the human carnival and made their way to the elevated parking garage where the limo was parked. Billy climbed to the first landing and waited until his crew had joined him.

“What do you think of the Boswells?” he asked.

“They’re smooth. I like them,” Pepper said.

“The girls rock,” Misty added. “The one named Kat told me she’s been thieving since she was six years old, if you can believe that.”

“The guys are good, too. I can work with them,” Cory said.

“They have my vote,” Morris said.

Gabe was the last to reach the landing and spent a moment catching his breath. “Have they told you how this super con works? Or is that still a secret?”

“Victor hasn’t tipped his mitt yet,” Billy said.

“Does his family know?” Gabe asked.

“Victor hasn’t revealed it to them, either. He wants everyone kept in the dark. I can’t say that I blame him. You know what they say, loose lips sink ships.”

Most cheats would never agree to a scam whose secret was unknown to them. Had Billy and his crew not traveled to the Boswells’ home base of Sacramento and been given a live demo of Victor’s super con, they probably would have turned down the job. But Victor had baffled them so thoroughly with his ability to win at blackjack that they’d signed on.

“Victor liked the way you guys worked as well,” Billy said.

He continued up the stairs. At the second-floor landing, he opened the door and stepped outside. The black stretch limo was parked on the far side of the garage with the windows down, only its driver was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Leon?” Pepper asked.

“Beats me. Hey Leon, where you hiding?” Billy called out.

No answer. It wasn’t like Leon to go AWOL during a job. Billy didn’t like it and took out his cell phone and called his driver. Seconds later, he heard a muted ringing.

“Where’s that coming from?” he asked.

His crew surrounded the limo. Gabe pointed at the trunk.

“It’s coming from there,” Gabe said.

Billy put his ear to the trunk. The sound of a ringing cell phone was indeed coming from the trunk’s interior. He ended the call, and the ringing abruptly stopped.

“Hey Leon, are you in there? Make some noise if you can hear me, man,” he said.

A muffled plea for help escaped from the trunk.

“You hurt?” he asked.

The answer was yes. He guessed a street gang had mugged Leon. Vegas gangs were not content to rob their victims, but also preferred to beat them to scare the victim from filing a police report. A hospital visit was in order for Leon. Billy saw no reason for all of them to go.

“Pepper and Misty, I want you to cab it home,” he said. “Gabe, you go with them. Cory and Morris, you stay here with me.”

Pepper looked upset. “Will you call us later? I want to know if Leon’s okay.”

“You have my word. Now get moving.”

As Gabe and the girls headed for the stairwell, three Asians jumped out of a car and blocked their path. The smallest, who appeared in charge, wore a linen shirt adorned with Hawaiian ukuleles and had goose bumps clustered under his eyes like those on the belly of a toad. In his hand was a Batman lunch box. His henchmen were built like sumo wrestlers and wore navy sports jackets. Colorful tattoos poked out of their shirt collars, suggesting a greater array of body art hiding beneath. They drew guns. Pepper, Misty, and Gabe retreated back to the limo.

“Who are those guys?” Cory asked.

“Beats me.” Billy held up his hands to show he wasn’t armed. “Take our money. Just don’t hurt us.”

The diminutive one scowled. “You Cunningham?”

“That’s me. Who are you?”

“Broken Tooth.”

“Your tooth doesn’t look broken to me.”

The Asian stuck his hand into his mouth and extracted the crown covering his upper front incisor, revealing the sharpened stump of a real tooth. “We need to talk. Get in limo with your friends, and one of my men will drive to your house.”

Billy lived in a penthouse condo in Turnberry Towers. His neighbors and the condo staff believed he sold high-end real estate for a living and had no idea of his criminal activity. If he brought Broken Tooth and his henchmen to his place, his cover would be blown.

“Can we use your place?” he asked the girls.

“I guess,” Pepper said.

“The fridge’s bare. We can’t offer them anything,” Misty said.

“I’m sure they’ll understand.” To Broken Tooth, he said, “Let’s use my friends’ place instead. It’s inside the Las Vegas Country Club.”

Broken Tooth scowled. “You trying to set me up?”

“Not at all. My place is small, that’s all.”

“You pull shit, I hurt your friends, make you watch.”

“I won’t pull any shit. Why did your men put my driver in the trunk?”

Broken Tooth stuck the crown back in. The facial recognition software used by the Vegas cops to spot criminals was second to none, and Billy guessed Broken Tooth had gotten the crown made so he wouldn’t be recognized during his visit.

“Your driver has a big mouth. My men shut it,” Broken Tooth said.

“His name’s Leon. There was no reason to hurt him.”

“This isn’t starting out right. You don’t question me, understand?”

“You want to do business, don’t hurt my people. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

“You don’t call the shots. I call the shots. Get in the car, or my men will blow your brains out.”

The henchmen took aim at Billy’s head. Pepper let out a squeal.

“Do what he says, Billy.”

Billy knew a bluff when he heard one. Broken Tooth hadn’t come here to kill him, and he crossed his arms and stood his ground. Broken Tooth caved and had his henchmen lower their guns. The trunk was unlocked, and Leon climbed out, his face a bloody mess.

“You okay?” Billy asked him.

“I’ll live,” Leon said.

The limo raced down the exit ramp. Broken Tooth followed in a rental, tires squealing.

The henchman in the backseat was not friendly. His neck was wider than his head, and he wore a permanent frown. Billy tried to small talk him.

“You got a name?” Billy asked.

“Ah,” the henchman replied.

“How about your partner?”

“His name Ah, too.”

“Is that short for something?”

“Not short for anything. It means little one.”

The little ones. That’s just great, Billy thought.

Soon they were stuck in traffic, the harsh streetlights bouncing off the limo’s tinted glass. Billy leaned back in his seat and stared at the swirling mass of humanity flowing past. Broken Tooth was a wild card; the rules he played by were different from the code that he and his crew adhered to, and he felt certain that a business relationship would end badly. Pepper dropped her hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze.

“These guys scare me,” she whispered.

“They’re really a lot of fun, when you get to know them,” he said.

“Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“Sorry.”

“Tell me you have a plan, just to make me feel better,” she said.

Getting out of tight jams was his specialty. He’d had guns pointed at him before and managed to walk away intact. But this situation was different. His crew was being threatened, and he needed to protect them as well.

“Don’t worry. I’ll think of something,” he said.