Void Moon

25

AS Karch walked through the casino at the Cleo he felt eyes upon him and looked up under the brim of his hat to see Vincent Grimaldi staring back at him from the crow's nest. Grimaldi did not have to gesture for Karch to know he was angry and waiting. Karch looked away and made his way to the elevators, a little more speed in his step.

When he was ushered into Grimaldi's office two minutes later, Karch was met by a large man he knew was Grimaldi's chief in-house thug. Karch couldn't recall his name but remembered it ended in a vowel. It was Rocco or Franco or something close.

"He wants to see me," Karch said.

"Yes, we've been reaching out to you all morning."

Karch noted the use of the plural and the condescending smirk on the other man's face as he gestured toward the door that opened onto the walkway to the crow's nest.

As Karch made his way around Grimaldi's desk he saw that it was spread with tools and equipment: an electric drill, a Polaroid camera, a large flashlight and a small tub of earthquake wax. He picked up the drill and saw that it had been wrapped in black rubber sewn together with fishing line.

"We found all of this in the air vent in room – "

"Two-thousand fifteen," Karch said. "I know. I told him it would be there."

He put the drill down and returned the condescending smirk to the man. He then stepped through the door to the walkway. He closed the door behind him, his eyes holding the other man's through the glass.

Grimaldi didn't turn to Karch as he came out. He stood with his hands gripping the railing and stared out at the sea of gamblers below. Karch had never been in the crow's nest before. He looked around and down upon the casino floor with a sense of awe and reverence. He glanced back and saw Grimaldi's thug standing at the glass door watching him. He turned and stepped right next to Grimaldi.

"Vincent."

"Whereya been, Jack? I've been calling."

"Sorry, Vincent, I had my hands full."

"What, changing your suit? Who you supposed to be, Bugsy Siegel or Art Pepper?"

"I'm here, Vincent. What do you want?"

Grimaldi looked at him now for the first time with an expression of warning.

"You know, I wonder if I was right about putting you on lead on this. My ass is on the line and I have no idea what you're doing besides changing clothes and putting on hats. Maybe I should hand this off to Romero. I know he's good to go on it."

Karch stayed cool. He had a pretty good idea that Grimaldi was only venting.

"If that's what you want, Vincent. But I thought you wanted the money back."

"I DO, goddammit!"

A few gamblers at a craps table below glanced up at Grimaldi's outburst. They were playing at the table where Max Freeling had landed six years before.

Karch decided to stop playing games with Grimaldi.

"Look, Vincent, I've been working the problem, okay? I've made progress. I have the woman's name and I know where she is. I'd already be on my way if you hadn't been calling and paging me."

Grimaldi turned to him, the excitement clearly showing on his face.

"You've got a name?"

"Yes." Karch nodded down toward the craps table below. "You remember the thing with Max Freeling, right? The high diver?"

"Of course."

"Well, remember the girl they picked up? His lookout?"

"Yeah. She went away, got fifteen, I think."

"Five to fifteen, Vincent. Must have been a good girl. Because she did the five and got out. It was her last night."

"Bullshit. She was a lookout. You said yourself this morning that this was a pro, somebody who knew exactly what the fuck she was doing."

"I know. And it's her. Believe me, it's her."

"Tell me how you know this."

Karch spent the next ten minutes detailing his tracing of Jersey Paltz and his questioning of the electronics dealer.

"Motherfucker," Grimaldi said of Paltz. "I hope you took care of him."

"Don't worry about him."

Grimaldi's sharp, dark face cracked into a smile, revealing beautifully white teeth.

"They don't call you Jack of Spades for nothing. The man with a shovel in the trunk."

Karch let it go. He remembered something and tapped his jacket below the breast pocket.

"I've got the eight K she paid him for the equipment. Minus my expenses. I'll leave it on the desk."

"That's good, Jack. And guess what, I've got something for you. We've got a name, too."

Karch looked at him.

"Martin was the insider?"

Grimaldi nodded.

"He acted dumb but we eventually got it out of him. He gave us everything but the girl's name because he didn't know it. So with what you got we have the whole picture."

"Which is what?"

"The thing was set up by a guy in L.A. named Leo Renfro. He connected with Martin and then he procured the girl for the job. He's the middle man on this thing."

"How'd he know Martin?"

"He didn't. He was put in touch with Martin."

"How?"

"That's where it gets dicey. Turns out Martin kept an eye out for Chicago. When he was at the Nugget a few years back he was Joey Marks's ear. When Marks and his crew got taken down by the bureau, things scattered and Martin left the Nugget and started here with a new slate. Of course, I didn't know any of this history when I hired him. Anyway, like I said, he didn't know this guy Renfro. But when he sees Hidalgo raking in the cash at the baccarat table and then going up to his room every night with that handcuff case, he figured there was a nice score to be made. He tipped Chicago and they put him together with this Leo Renfro to set it up."

Karch was barely listening. The mention of Chicago, of the so-called Outfit's involvement in the caper, was causing blood to pound in his ears. His hands tightened into fists.

"Hey, Jack, you still with me?"

Karch nodded.

"I'm here."

"Look, I know what happened with your father and all… I just wanted you to see all the cards, you know?"

"Thank you, Vincent. You sure Martin was only working off what he saw the mark win? He didn't know about the two and a half?"

Grimaldi stepped a little closer to him. There was a humorless smile on his face.

"Let's just say that we questioned him closely and extensively on that point. And the answer is he didn't know. Chicago didn't know. It was just a casino score. It was like you said, Jack. I made a mistake giving the guy a draw. He turned it into more money and it drew sharks. Martin and his Chicago people. Everybody involved in this thing works for Chicago."

Karch just nodded and kept his lips tightly together.

"So if the girl's from L.A. now and Renfro's from L.A., then that's where the money is. You have to get over there and get it before they turn it over to Chicago."

"They probably already have it by now, Vincent."

"Maybe, maybe not. She killed the guy in his bed. Maybe they want to check the heat on it before they make any further moves. We have to get over there and be sure. Besides, even if they passed the money on, I want these people dealt with. Due diligence. You know the score."

Grimaldi looked at his watch.

"But I think we still have a shot at the money. Six hours into this and we've already got the whole story. You get over there and get the money. You have a line on the girl?"

"Not yet. If she came in from L.A. that means she probably jumped parole. I could check to make sure but that would leave an official trail. I don't think you want that yet, Vincent."

"I don't. So hold that as a last resort. Maybe you should start with Renfro, go from there."

Karch nodded.

"You have an address for him?"

Grimaldi shook his head.

"We got a cell phone number. The name and number was all Martin had. You'll have to trace it from there. Romero has it on a piece of paper in the office. Also written on there is the name of a guy I know over there in L.A. You need help with anything – tracing the number, anything – you call him and bring him in. There will be no official record with him. He's good people and has a lot of connections he'd be happy to share."

"All right, Vincent."

"Now you go grab a plane and you'll be on the ground by three at the latest and – "

"I'm not flying, Vincent. I never fly."

"Jack, time is of the essence here."

"Then have your guy in L.A. handle it. I'm driving. I'll be there before five."

"All right, fine. You drive. Maybe you could make another stop in the desert for me. You know, along the way."

Karch just looked at him.

"I've still got fat boy and Martin in a laundry basket on the loading dock."

"It's just sitting down there?"

"I've got Longo down there watching it. Nobody'll get near it."

Karch shook his head.

"Then have Long-O and Romer-O take care of it. I'm out of here, Vincent."

Grimaldi pointed a finger at him.

"All right, Jack, but I want to be kept informed this time. You understand me?"

"Perfectly."

"Then go get the money, Jack."

Before heading in from the crow's nest Karch took one last look across the casino. He liked the view from up here. He nodded to himself and walked to the glass door.