The Honest Dealer

Chapter Nine

They entered the casino and Johnny worked his way through the crowds to the crap tables. He the crowds to the crap tables. He found Sam and his former dinner companions at the second table. Young Halton had his system in his hand, folded so he could consult it handily. Jane Langford was on his left and Chatsworth on his right. Sam was beyond Chatsworth and on his right was a gorgeous redhead in evening dress over which was draped a long mink scarf. Sam had the dice and was shaking them.

After a few seconds of spectacular shaking he pressed the cubes into the hand of the redhead. “You shake them for luck, Red!”

She did, laughingly, and handed them back to Sam. He threw them out.

“Eight,” droned the voice of the croupier.

“Eighter from Decatur!” Sam exclaimed.

Johnny squeezed in between Chats-worth and Sam. He threw a yellow chip on the eight. “Twenty-five says you make it, Sam.”

“Johnny!” Sam cried. “Where you been?”

“Taking care of a stiff... Doing okay?”

“I lost a hun’erd and a half, but look what I got...” He grabbed the redhead’s arm. “Jane had a friend and this is her. Red, shake hands with my pal, Johnny Fletcher. Johnny, her name’s Red...”

“It’s Molly,” laughed the redhead. “Molly Benson.”

“I’ll say hello later,” Johnny said. “Sam, you’re holding up the game.”

Sam threw out the dice.

“Seven,” said the croupier.

“Too bed.” Johnny picked out two of the several dice that were shoved over to him by the stick man. “Ride with me, Sam.”

“Sure — why not? Maybe my luck’ll turn.” Then he suddenly gasped. “What do you mean — you was taking care of a stiff?”

Halton leaned out over the table, so he could look at Johnny, past Chatsworth and Sam. “Is this your system coming up, Fletcher?”

“Yep.” Johnny put eight chips on the pass line. “Watch how it’s done.” He shook the dice, rolled them out. They came up seven.

The stickman put eight chips alongside of Johnny’s, signaled him to take away one of the piles. Johnny threw the dice out again. He got a ten for a point, took the odds for a hundred that he would make it and made it on the next roll.

“Luck,” said Halton. “Sheer luck.”

“Better ride along.”

Halton shook his head. “I can’t.”

“I can,” exclaimed Jane Langford. She nodded to Mr. Chatsworth. “How about you?”

“Oh, I might venture a dollar,” said Chatsworth.

“Sure you can spare it?” Sam Cragg asked.

Whit Snow came up behind Johnny. He was breathing heavily. Johnny winked at him and threw an eleven, then followed with a seven.

“Could I talk to you a sec?” Snow asked.

“Sure, go ahead.”

Snow cleared his throat. “Over here on the side...”

Fletcher gathered up his chips and followed Snow over to the slot machines. “It’s the boss,” Snow said, “Mr. Honsinger; he was wondering if you wouldn’t just as soon play blackjack?”

“Why?” Johnny was surprised.

Snow grimaced. “Well, the place is pretty full right now, and, uh, well, you know how people are. A man gets a run in a crap game; everybody plays with him. The house takes a beating.”

Johnny whistled softly. “And they can’t ride with you in blackjack.”

“That’s right. Mr. Honsinger don’t mind somebody winning — in fact, it’s good advertising, but you get thirty people riding with you on a crap table and you get a streak, the house can lose forty-fifty grand in a little while; if you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean, Whit, old boy. But somehow I’m not in a blackjack playing mood tonight. I’ve got a feeling that I’d be luckier with the bones...”

“Then why don’t you run over to To Last Frontier for awhile? Or the El Rancho Vegas. They’re both nice places.”

“No doubt. But they’re not home.”

Snow sighed. “How about a grand not to play any more? Just tonight.”

“I can make more playing.”

“Look, buddy,” Snow said, forgetting his manners, “you’re not going to get tough about this, are you?”

Gilbert Honsinger appeared, coming from the rear of the casino. His eyes were fixed on Johnny. “Mr. Fletcher,” he began, as he came up, “I’ve just come from your room...”

“Ah, yes,” Johnny said quickly. “I was just going to make a complaint about that. I’m not used to having corpses dumped into my room...”

“Corpses!” exclaimed Whit Snow.

“A corpse...”

“Harry Bloss,” said Honsinger.

Air whistled through Snow’s teeth. “Bloss... dead...!”

Honsinger inclined his head towards his office. “Come in, Whit. You, too, Mr. Fletcher.”

Johnny followed them into the owner’s private office. Honsinger closed the door carefully, then whirled on Johnny. “Now, if you don’t mind, Fletcher — let’s have it.”

“Didn’t Mulligan tell you?”

“He said you claimed to have come upon Bloss over in Death Valley. Saw him die.”

“Wh-who did it?” Snow asked hoarsely.

Honsinger gestured to him to be silent. “Mulligan says he’s been dead for twenty-four hours. Is that right, Fletcher?”

“I was Mr. Fletcher awhile ago.”

“This is no joking matter.”

“Who said it was?”

A glint came into Honsinger’s eyes. “Look, Fletcher, you’ve won a little money. But I’ve known a lot of people in my time. Big ones. And sharp ones. I sized you up the first time I set eyes on you.”

“If it comes to that,” Johnny, “I’ve seen a few people myself. Sure, you own this joint. It’s probably worth a million bucks. But what were you doing five years ago? Or, say ten...?”

“I was running a floating crap game in Chicago,” Honsinger laughed shortly. “All right, we understand each other. Now, about Bloss...”

“I hear he worked here.”

Honsinger nodded. “He was the best blackjack dealer I ever had. You never had to watch him.”

“Then why’d you let him go?”

“I didn’t. He just walked out one day. Without a word.”

“When was that?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Without his pay?”

“It was the first of the month.”

“Oh, then, he left seventeen days ago. Today’s the seventeenth.”

“So it was seventeen days.”

“Three days are important. You can go across the country in that time.”

“You’re stalling, Fletcher,” Honsinger said. “I want to know how you ran into Bloss.”

“Just the way I told Mulligan.”

“I want to hear it firsthand. How did you happen to be in Death Valley?”

“It was just one of those things. We stopped at Baker for gas and I saw the sign, pointing to Death Valley. I’d always wanted to see it...”

“In July?”

“It was evening and I thought it would be cool. We drove for a couple of hours and the wind was like a furnace blast. So I turned the car around and then I saw this man — Bloss. He was staggering toward the road. I got to him just as he fell. He died inside of sixty seconds.”

“Did he talk? I mean, before he died...”

“He asked for water. But we didn’t have any.”

“And he didn’t say anything else? Who he was?”

Honsinger was leaning forward expectantly. Johnny said, “He didn’t say a word.”

Honsinger seemed to relax. “You didn’t... uh... look through his pockets?”

“Why, yes, I did. He had this...” Johnny took out the purple check, “...in his pocket.”

“So that’s where you got it!” Honsinger reached for the check, but Johnny pretended not to see his hand. He dropped the check back into his pocket. Honsinger frowned a little. “Nothing else?”

Johnny shrugged. “Nothing important. Some paper matches, with the name of this place.”

“Is that why you came here?”

Johnny laughed. “I came because it looked like the biggest joint along the road.”

“Mulligan tells me you didn’t have a dime this morning.”

“That reminds me,” said Johnny. “I’m losing money talking here. I could be out at the crap table...”

Whit Snow interrupted. “I offered him the grand to keep away, boss.”

Honsinger looked inquiringly at Johnny. Johnny smiled and shook his head. “I said no.”

Honsinger grunted. “You’ve got a streak, Fletcher. Like to get into a real game?”

“What kind?”

“Without a limit?”

“I thought two hundred was the legal limit?”

“In public. We have a little private game sometimes. Riley Brown’s here. And there’s an insurance man from Chicago...”

“Chatsworth?”

“Know him?”

“He joined our party at dinner. But I saw him shooting a silver dollar at the table.”

Honsinger smiled. “I saw him peel off eight thousand dollar bills the other night.”

“Did he make it?”

“The hard way.”

“Where do you have this game?”

“Up in my apartment, after twelve.”

The door opened and Nick the bellboy stuck in his head. Honsinger exclaimed angrily, “Can’t you knock?”

“Sure,” Nick replied, unabashed, and knocked on the open door. “Mr. Fletcher, your friends have gone over to The Last Frontier. They told me to tell you.”

“Cragg, too?”

“Yep.”

Fletcher grinned at Snow. “You’ve saved a grand.” He began emptying his pockets of checks, dumping them on Honsinger’s desk. “I may need some cash over at The Last Frontier.”

Honsinger didn’t seem too pleased about the transaction, but he stacked up the checks. “Five thousand, one hundred and fifty,” he said. “Want it all in cash?”

“I feel like plunging.”

“Save some for the game later.”

“Oh, I’ve got the ten grand to fall back on,” Johnny said. “Which reminds me, if you don’t mind — I’d like your check for it. Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“Just in case.”

Honsinger gave Johnny fifty-one one hundred dollar bills, a fifty and then wrote out a check for ten thousand dollars. “Not bad,” he said, “starting with a dollar.”

“It’ll be a hundred thousand before I’m through.”

Honsinger regarded him sourly as Johnny left the office. In the casino, Nick fell in beside Johnny. “I been callin’ all around town about Langford, Mr. Fletcher,” he said. “He don’t seem to be registered at any of the hotels.”

“Have you tried the motels?”

“I’m going to now.”

“Well, have me paged at The Last Frontier if you find him before I get back.”

Johnny found his car where he had parked it that morning. The keys were still in it.