Take Down

THIRTY-THREE

“Ricky Boswell’s family is staying in the hotel as part of a wedding party,” Billy said. “That’s their cover.”

“Was Ricky supposed to be part of the wedding?” Ike asked. “If he was, they’re gonna notice he’s not here, being that he’s dead and all.”

“No, they won’t. Ricky’s job was to scope out the casino. Right before you grabbed him, Ricky sent a message to his family, telling them everything was George. After that, he wouldn’t connect with his family until the scam was finished. That’s how crews operate. Each member only shows up when necessary, and contact is limited.”

Ike nodded, getting most of it. “Sorta like that movie Reservoir Dogs, the gang members having aliases and all, not talking to each other before the heist.”

“You got it.”

“Who’s George?” T-Bird asked.

“George is an expression that means everything’s cool. If I say everything’s George, it means the scam’s good to go. If I tell you everything’s Tom, it means the scam is off.”

“Who’s Tom?” T-Bird said, now really confused.

“There ain’t no Tom,” Ike said. “It’s a made-up expression that means the shit is gonna hit the fan. Even I know that.”

T-Bird was getting pissed. Rather than face off with Ike, he took his frustration out on Billy. “Just speak English, okay? I’m in no mood to learn a second language.”

“Sure. So where was I? Oh yeah, Saturday afternoon. So here’s how it’s going to happen. The Boswells are part of a wedding party. They go to the wedding in the afternoon, and then at four o’clock as the shift change is taking place, they hit the casino. They use the commotion inside the casino as their shade, and pull their scam.”

“But why won’t they miss Ricky?” Ike said. “If he don’t show, they’re gonna know.”

“No, they won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Ricky was planning to see mixed martial arts at the Mandalay Bay Saturday afternoon. When the fights were over, he was going to come back here, throw on his duds, and go downstairs to meet up with his family as they hit the casino.”

“Why would he wait?” Ike interrupted. “Why wouldn’t Ricky go to the wedding in the afternoon along with the rest of his family?”

“A casino employee might remember seeing Ricky snooping around the casino earlier in the week and get suspicious. That would bring heat. Better for Ricky to appear as the family hits the casino. He’ll blend in easier.”

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Ike said. “Ricky ain’t showing up Saturday afternoon. His family’s gonna notice.”

“Of course they’ll notice, but that won’t stop them. Ripping off casinos is the family business. There are bills to pay and mouths to feed. They won’t shut the operation down because Ricky pulls a no-show at the last minute. Trust me, I know.”

“Man, that’s cold,” Ike said.

A cheater’s first job was not to get caught. Ricky had slipped up and had paid for his mistake with his young life. The family would eventually realize what had happened to him, and they would mourn his passing, but that wouldn’t stop them from scamming casinos. If anything, losing a member would only strengthen their resolve.

“How you going to know which wedding these people are a part of?” Ike asked. “Aren’t there a bunch in the hotel?”

“According to the welcome board in the lobby, there are nine weddings in the hotel on Saturday. It shouldn’t be hard to figure out which one they’re a part of.”

“Why’s that?”

“The Boswells are Gypsies, and Gypsies have strange habits. They’re nuts about cleanliness, always washing their hands, clothes are always spotless. They’re obsessive-compulsive-it’s in their genes. I’ll figure out who they are, no problem.”

Billy was sick of talking. He’d only allowed Ike and T-Bird to question him because he didn’t want them getting cold feet Saturday. So he put up with their bullshit. But it was tiring.

Ike said, “So how do we fit into all this?”

Billy had told Ike last night what their role was, and he guessed the booze had erased the memory. “While the Boswells are pulling their scam, I’ll blow the whistle, and security will bust them. While security is hauling them away, you guys will rip off the cage with the counterfeit chips. By the time Doucette realizes he’s been robbed, you’ll be wasting away in Margaritaville.”

“That don’t sound so hard,” Ike said.

“It isn’t. The hard part comes now,” Billy said.

“What you mean?”

“This stuff isn’t going to happen by magic. I have to go see my guy so he can counterfeit the chips. I also need to figure out who the Boswells are. And, I need to keep Doucette and his crazy wife in the dark so they don’t get a wild hair and decide to kill me.”

“How you gonna do all that and not get caught?”

“Simple. You two are going to cover for me.”

“We are?”

“That’s right. You don’t work for Doucette anymore, you work for me, and that means you’re going to cover my ass so I can set this thing up. Dig it?”

“But what if Shaz calls us on the cell phone, and wants to speak to you, and we say you ain’t here, and she goes psycho on us? What do we do then?”

“Make up a story. Tell her that I discovered the Boswells are part of a wedding party, and that I’m running around the hotel trying to figure out which wedding it is. That will get her excited. Then call me. I’ll call her back and string her along some more.”

“You think she’ll fall for that bullshit?”

“She will if you say it right. It’s all about the delivery, and the conviction in your voice.”

“Sounds risky, you ask me.”

Every job he’d ever pulled was risky; without the risk, there was no reward. He poked the larger man in the chest so hard that it made Ike’s eyes bulge. Ike wasn’t used to someone half his size pushing him around, and it showed.

“It’s called the big time. The question is, are you guys ready to play?”

“I’m ready,” Ike said.

“Me, too,” T-Bird said.

“Good. I need two things from you. First go downstairs, and buy a few thousand in chips from the cage, and put them in my gym bag. My guy is going to need them so he can set the molds correctly. Then get your car, and bring it around so I can get out of here.”

“You want to use our car?” Ike asked.

“If I drive my own car out of here, I might get spotted. Better to take yours.”

“Well, all right. Our ride’s a refurbished ’68 Camaro. Just go easy on the gas. There’s a tiger under the hood.”

“I’ll remember that. Use the money you took from my safe to buy the chips from the cage. My guy will want to see lots of them. He claims that it makes counterfeiting easier.”

“I thought that was our money,” T-Bird objected.

“It’s our money, and we need it to pull this thing off. By the way, I took my jewelry out of the gym bag and hid it. That wasn’t part of our deal.”

“That Rolex with the diamonds was mine,” T-Bird said, clearly upset. “It went perfect with my Super Bowl ring.”

“You can buy yourself a watch with your share of the haul. Now give me your cell phone numbers so I can get a hold of you.”

The punishers gave him their cell numbers, which he entered into his Droid’s memory bank. Two nights ago, as he was getting the crap beat out of him, he’d promised himself he’d pay Ike and T-Bird back. Revenge was sweet, especially when the other guys didn’t see it coming.

“Our car’s parked in the employee garage,” Ike said. “We’ll bring it around to the rear exit. It’s usually pretty quiet this time of day.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Billy said.