The Collectors

Chapter 48

After his revelation Jerry Bagger had summoned the manager of the hotel across the street to his office and demanded details of every guest who’d taken a room on the twenty-third floor on the side facing his building on a certain day. And in Atlantic City, when Jerry Bagger said to come, you went. As usual, some of Bagger’s men hovered in the background.

The hotel manager, a young, good-looking man who was obviously ambitious and intent on performing his duties to the best of his abilities, was not inclined to let the casino chief see anything.

“Just so you understand the situation, if you don’t give me what I want, you will die,” Bagger said.

The manager had flinched. “Are you threatening me?”

“No. A threat is when there’s a chance it won’t happen. This is what in the trade we call a sure thing.”

The manager paled but bravely said, “The information you’re requesting is confidential. I can’t possibly hand it over to you. Our guests expect their affairs to be kept private, and we have the highest standards at the—”

Bagger cut him off. “Yeah, yeah. Look, I’ll go the easy route first. How much you want for it?”

“You’re trying to bribe me?”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“You can’t possibly be serious—”

“Hundred thou.”

“A hundred thousand dollars!”

Bagger looked at his men. “Boy, this guy’s quick, ain’t he? Maybe I should hire him to run my place. Yeah, a hundred thousand dollars slipped right into your personal account if you let me look at the records.” The man seemed to be considering the offer, but Bagger was quickly growing impatient. “And if you don’t, I tell you what, I’m not gonna kill you. Instead, I’ll break every bone in your body, mess with your brain so you can’t tell anybody what happened to you, and you can spend the rest of your life in a nursing home pissing all over yourself while some freak-offs drill you every night. Now to me there’s no real choice there, but I’m a reasonable man, so I’ll let you make the decision. You got five seconds.”

An hour later Bagger had all the information he’d requested and quickly culled down his list of potential suspects. Next he questioned hotel personnel about some of the guests in question. It didn’t take him long to hit the jackpot because of some extra services one of the guests had taken advantage of during his stay.

“Yeah, I gave him a massage,” the young woman named Cindy said. She was petite and dark-haired with a cute face, alluring curves and a streetwise manner. She popped gum and played with her hair while talking to Bagger in a private room in the hotel’s sumptuous spa area.

He eyed her closely. “You know who I am?”

Cindy nodded. “You’re Jerry Bagger. My mom, Dolores, works a craps table for you at the Pompeii.”

“Right, good old Dolores. You like this spa shit?”

“Pay sucks, but tips are great. The old guys like to feel a young lady’s hands on ’em. A few get a hard-on while I’m doing it. Pretty disgusting on an eighty-year-old, but like I said, they tip good.”

“This guy you worked on.” Bagger glanced at the name he’d written down. “This Robby Thomas, tell me about him, starting with what he looks like.”

Cindy gave him a physical description. “Good-looking guy but way too cocky. He really thought a lot of himself. I don’t like that in a man. And he was too thin and pretty, if you know what I mean. I could’ve probably taken him in arm wrestling. I like my guys big and rugged.”

“I bet. So this pretty boy, you only give him a massage? Or something extra?”

Cindy crossed her arms and stopped popping her gum. “I’m a licensed professional, Mr. Bagger.”

In response he pulled ten hundred-dollar bills from his wallet. “This enough to buy your license?”

Cindy eyed the money. “I guess what I do on my own time is my business.”

“Can’t argue with that.” He held out the money. “So tell me about it.”

But she hesitated in taking the cash. “I could maybe lose my job if—”

“Cindy, I don’t give a shit if you’re screwing dead people at this two-bit joint, okay?” He pushed the money down the inside of her shirt. “Now talk to me. And don’t lie. Lying to me is a very bad thing.”

She started speaking fast. “Okay, like he was all over me from the get-go. I was massaging him, and all of a sudden I felt his hand against my leg. And then his hand moved way past where it should’ve been.”

“Yeah, a real animal. What happened next?”

“He started coming on to me really hard. At first I blew him off. Then he started talking high-and-mighty. Said he was making a big score and I should be nice to him.”

“A big score, huh? Keep going.”

“He flashed some money, said there was a lot more where that came from. After I finished work, he was waiting for me. We had a couple drinks; I started getting a little looped. I’m not real good with holding my liquor.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s keep it moving here, Cin,” Bagger said impatiently. “I got serious ADD.”

She went on hurriedly. “So anyway, we ended up in his room. I gave him a mouth job to get things going, but the asshole popped early. Let me tell you I was pissed. I mean, I didn’t even know the jerk. He was really upset, crying like a baby. Guy gave me a hundred bucks. A lousy hundred bucks! Then he was in the bathroom puking for about ten minutes. When he came out, he said he hadn’t had any in a long time and that was the reason he came so freaking fast. Like I gave a crap.”

“What a jerk. What happened next?”

“Well, that was pretty much it. I mean, there wasn’t any reason for me to stay after that, was there? It’s not like we were on a date or nothing.”

“He didn’t say anything else? Where he was from? Where he was going? What the big score was?” She shook her head. He studied her closely and said, “Okay, you look like an enterprising gal. Did you maybe rip off some cash from his wallet while he was puking in the john?”

She said angrily, “I’m not some kind of trash! Who do you think you are accusing me of that?”

“Let’s do a little reality check here, Cin.” He touched his chest. “I’m Jerry Bagger. You’re a lowlife who lets strangers shoot off in her mouth for chump change. So I’m going to ask you one more time: Did you rip off some cash to bump the C-note he gave you?”

“I don’t know, I might have,” she said. “But I don’t feel like talking no more.”

Bagger clamped a hand around her chin and jerked her head around so they were looking eye-to-eye. “Did your old lady ever tell you anything about me?”

A scared Cindy swallowed nervously. “She said you were real good to work for.”

“Anything else?”

“She said anybody ever tries to cross you is one dumb son of a bitch.”

“That’s right. Your mama’s smart.” He squeezed tighter on her chin, and Cindy gave a little yelp. “So if you wanna see mama again, take a real deep breath and tell me what you saw in pretty boy’s wallet.”

“Okay, okay. It was weird because he had a couple of IDs.”

“And?”

“And one was the name he gave me at the spa, Robby Thomas from Michigan. The other one was a driver’s license from California.”

“The name?” Bagger said calmly.

“Tony. Tony Wallace.”

Bagger let go of the woman’s face. “See, that wasn’t so hard. Now, why don’t you go back to rubbing the old farts’ cocks?”

She rose on trembling legs. As she turned to leave, Bagger said, “Hey, Cindy, aren’t you forgetting something?”

She slowly turned back around. “What’s that, Mr. Bagger?” she said nervously.

“I paid you a thousand bucks. Pretty boy gave you a tenth of that, and he got a blow job. You never even asked me if I wanted one. That’s not nice, Cindy. That’s something a guy like me remembers for a long time.” He waited, staring at her.

Her voice quavering, she said, “Do you want me to give you a blow job, Mr. Bagger?” She hastily added, “It’d be an honor.”

“No, I don’t.”