Take Down

FOURTEEN

At noon the gaming agents broke for lunch. Trays of food were brought up from the jail’s cafeteria that weren’t fit for a dog. Billy thought the session had gone well, and he sipped from a can of ginger ale while watching LaBadie, Zander, and Tricaricco chow down on baloney sandwiches on Wonder Bread and cups of greasy potato salad. Bad food was part of a cop’s daily existence, and the gaming agents made sure to clean their plates.

“You haven’t told us how Maggie Flynn plays into this,” LaBadie asked when they were done. “That was part of our agreement.”

“Mags didn’t come into the picture until Thursday night,” Billy explained. “I didn’t want to jump ahead of myself.”

LaBadie also had a briefcase, although not as pretty as Underman’s. Placing it on the table, he popped it open, and removed a glossy eight-by-ten photograph of Billy and his crew taken inside Galaxy’s employee parking garage a few hours before they ripped the joint off.

“Yesterday afternoon, you and eight other people were secretly photographed by one of our agents inside Galaxy’s employee parking garage before the casino was robbed,” LaBadie said. “We know the two black guys in the photo worked for Doucette. I want you to tell me the other six people’s names.”

“That photograph isn’t want you think,” Billy said.

“Really. Then what is it?”

“Well, I was doing a job for Marcus Doucette. Doucette thought some cheaters were staying in his hotel, and asked me to sniff them out. I asked six friends of mine to help me find them, and on Saturday afternoon we met in the employee garage to talk things over.”

“You honestly don’t expect me to believe that, do you?”

“Ask the woman who runs the bridal shop. Lucille Gonzalez. She knows all about it.”

“This Gonzalez woman will back up your story?”

“Yes, sir.”

LaBadie looked stymied. If Lucille Gonzalez backed up the story-which Billy believed she would, considering how they’d left things-the gaming board would not be able to charge him with conspiracy, which seriously weakened their case against him.

LaBadie pointed at the photo. “These six friends of yours-are they part of your crew?”

“I don’t have a crew,” Billy said.

“Don’t get smart with us, Billy. You’ve been running a crew for years.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You had a crew when we busted you at the Hard Rock. You met with them yesterday afternoon in the employee parking lot, and conspired to rip off Galaxy’s casino.”

“My client was never busted at the Hard Rock,” Underman said.

“He was released on a technicality.”

Billy leaned forward and brought his mouth next to the tape recorder. “For the record, I’ve never had a crew that worked for me, and I wasn’t busted at the Hard Rock, and I did not conspire to rip off Galaxy’s casino with my friends.”

LaBadie looked ready to pull his hair out. Billy decided to shut him down.

“Want to hear the rest of my story?” the young hustler asked.

LaBadie slammed the briefcase and dropped it on the floor. He sat down in his chair hard, making the hinges sing. The expression on his face was anything but friendly.

“Start talking,” the gaming agent said.