Next, I bought a new bag to carry all my new stuff. It was made of soft black leather, and I slung it over my shoulder. The smell of the fresh leather was pleasant. It brought back vague memories of plane trips and hotel rooms. I had the feeling I’d traveled a lot in my lifetime—I just couldn’t recall the details.
Jenna kept talking about our mission, meaning the removal of McKesson’s watch. I was still uncertain about that part of her plan. I could see the value of having the
watch to find her husband, but McKesson wasn’t going to give it up without a fight. I was still hoping we could use it to find her missing groom, but preferably with the detective’s cooperation. I hoped she didn’t notice my reluctance in the matter. I had promised her I would help get the watch—but that had been under duress. Men were liable to say anything when faced with breasts after midnight. “How are you going to do it?” she asked me finally when we’d left the last store. In addition to the clothes, I now had a full shaving kit with all the essentials. After a few days of being homeless, I was looking forward to brushing my teeth with an actual toothbrush.
“Do what?” I asked.
“Do you think he ever takes it off?” she whispered. “Can we get it from his nightstand?”
I stared at her for a moment. “I figured we would just put a gun in his face and take it,” I said.
She looked horrified. “Let’s not try that.”
I shook my head bemusedly as I led the way to the elevators. I had been joking about a stickup, but she hadn’t picked up on that. She kept scheming on the way back up to the eighteenth floor.
Halfway down the hall to her room, I paused and put a hand up. She stopped talking in midsentence, looking around with wide eyes.
“Is someone listening?” she asked.
I pointed to the door handle. The tag we’d used to summon the maid service had fallen off and lay on the carpet. It was tucked half under the door. It had clearly been knocked loose and dropped as someone entered. The maid would have hung it back on the door handle, so I was suspicious. I pointed to it and leaned close to her ear.
“Someone is in the room,” I whispered.
Jenna stared at me and shook her head. I stepped to the adjacent door and tapped on it. There was no answer. I slipped on my sunglasses.
I felt her hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure?” she whispered.
“No, but I’m suspicious enough to
make
sure,” I said.
The sunglasses worked, as always. I twisted the locked door open. It gave way with the steady application of pressure, causing only a small clicking sound. I pushed it open. No one was in the room. The bed was made and the room looked vacant. The two of us slipped inside.
“Is this what life is like for you?” Jenna breathed. “I have to admit, it’s exciting—if a little crazy.”
“It’s been wild lately,” I agreed. I headed to the balcony, threw the door open, and stepped outside.
There was the small matter of making an eight-foot leap to the next balcony, with a hundred-and-fifty-foot drop under my feet. I hesitated as the dry winds gusted up and made my hair ruffle.
“Come over here and give me a bit of luck,” I said to Jenna.
She slipped on her wedding ring. “You’re crazy. I don’t think it will work on something as large as a jumping person.”
“Maybe it’s all psychological,” I said, “but I want your blessing anyway.”
Jenna obliged by touching my shoulder with the ring firmly on her finger. I felt a sickening wrench in my belly as I jumped. I landed and wobbled for a moment, struggling to lever myself over the railing. The uncontrollable surge of adrenalin gave me an instant headache. Every part of my body strained to get away from the open space below me. My feet and teeth ached in a moment of near panic.
Then I was over the rail and safe. I got to my feet and turned back to Jenna, who had watched everything closely.
“Go out and make noise in the hallway,” I told her. “Find a maid and start an argument or something.”
Jenna nodded and disappeared. I waited about a minute, and then tried the sliding glass door. It was locked, of course. The sunglasses were soon out and on my face again. A moment later, the door clacked quietly and slid open.
I had my gun in my hand and I steeled myself. I nudged open those thick blackout curtains every hotel had, and peeked inside.
The room was dark. I knew I was letting in too much light. I stepped inside and tucked the curtains behind me.
There was a figure standing at the door with a gun of his own. He was using the peephole to observe the hallway, where I could hear Jenna shouting about something.
With my pistol aimed at his back, I flipped on the lights. “Drop your gun,” I said in an officious, coplike voice. The man turned, lowering his weapon, but not quite letting go of it. We regarded one another in surprise and recognition. It was Bernard Kinley, the pit boss I’d met a few nights ago in the casino. He was as short, bald, and angry as ever.
“How’d you get in here, you cock-sucker?” Bernie hissed at me. His expensive suit was rumpled and his embarrassing comb-over had puffed up in the center like shark fin. I almost smiled at his bulging eyes and angry stare.
“Good to see you too, Bernie,” I said evenly. I kept my pistol leveled on his chest and walked slowly closer to him.
“You’re some kind of freak like the rest of them, aren’t you?”
“Listen, this conversation is really uplifting, but aren’t you supposed to be watching for card-counters or something downstairs?”
He glared at me, his eyes narrowing to a squint. “Not anymore. You did something to piss off the boss. Now I’m on permanent suspension.”
“That’s rough,” I said without a hint of sympathy. “Is that why you’re here? For revenge?”
Bernie’s eyes swept the room. “I was looking for the girl, not you.”
“Murder?” I asked. “I had you down as more of the petty-theft type.”
“What? No, I wanted a piece of her luck. I’ve never seen anything like it. Did you know she went and did that same trick in three other casinos yesterday?”
It was my turn to stare at him for a second. I hadn’t known that. No wonder she’d become so easy with her money.
“She’s gotten smarter about it too,” he said. “She hits the tables, different games. Only works them for about ten minutes, then moves on. Then after a big win, she loses for an hour—just a little cash at a time, giving back about ten percent of what she took off the house. Then she leaves. But we pit bosses talk, you know. When we see something going on, we talk, and we’ve been watching her, house to house.”
My little Jenna
, I thought. I was proud of her. She had learned a new game quickly. In fact, she had learned it so well she had been smart enough to tell no one about it. Not even me. But I knew the casinos still didn’t like to lose.
“If you told everyone in town that she’s a cheat, why are they still letting her play?” I asked.
Bernie smiled. “I’m not that dumb. I want to know the trick. So I told them she lost big at the Lucky Seven. She
hasn’t won enough in the other places to get kicked out. But I figure she’s taken in fifty grand or so over the last few days.”
“Not murder,” I said, nodding. “You’re a thief.”
“I don’t want her money, just her secret,” he snapped. “And she’s been stealing from the casinos anyway—somehow.”
“That gives you every right to sit in here with a gun in the dark, does it?” I asked dryly.
“You’re in here too, armed just like me.”
“Yes, but I was invited. Now drop the gun or I drop you. Which is it?”
He finally let his weapon thump down onto the carpet. I decided that Jenna had spent long enough in the hallway. I pulled out my cell and told her it was OK to come in. She did so, and was startled to see our friend the pit boss. After she found out what he was doing in her room, she became angry.
I waved away her threats and recriminations after a while. “Bernie, please take a seat over here.”
Bernie moved with ill grace, sitting in a padded armchair. It was the sort of thing they often had in nice hotel rooms. It was upholstered with a busy green print of washable microfiber. It would be a pity to put a bullet hole in it.
“You should really flip on the safety,” Bernie complained as I kept my pistol aimed at him.
“I feel safer with it flipped off.”
Jenna sat on the bed and watched him with slit-like, glaring eyes. “I’m calling the police,” she said.
I waved for her to stop. “Wait just a minute.”
“Yeah,” Bernie said nervously. “There’s no need for that.”
“Let’s talk, Mr. Kinley,” I said. “Here’s a scenario for you: a disgruntled, recently disciplined employee turns up armed
inside the room of a lovely female guest. In order to get into her room, he must have used a keycard he’s no longer authorized to possess. What’s more interesting is that the female guest has recently lost her husband in that same room.”
“That’s not what I—” Bernie sputtered, interrupting.
“Let me finish painting this picture for you,” I said, pressing onward. “The ex-employee blathers about supernatural gambling powers and revenge. He claims the guest has cheated the casino—but he himself has recently told other witnesses the opposite.”
“Who are you going to tell that crap to, Draith?” Bernie asked me. “Oh yes, I know your name. I know you are wanted for murder as well. I doubt anyone is going to take your word in this fabrication.”
“They certainly won’t take yours either,” I said. “But our lovely bride is very believable, isn’t she? Her man is missing, and you definitely are involved somehow.”
Bernie slid his eyes to her, then back to me. He looked defeated. I thought that Jenna rather liked playing the part of the lovely female guest. Either that, or she was enjoying Bernie’s discomfort, which was now obvious.
“The question for us is whether to shoot you and put together a cover story,” I said, “or to perform a citizen’s arrest and call the police.”
“Shoot me? Why the hell would you do that?”
“What if we had a system to make a vast amount of money off the casinos? A system that is so perfect, it compelled you to come in here and risk everything, just because you suspected we had it. Wouldn’t we want to protect that?”
Bernie was sweating now. He slid his eyes from one face to the next. Neither of us smiled. “You two are in this together,” he said. “You were working the con from that very first night I saw you at the blackjack tables.”
“What you need to be thinking about is your own skin,” I told him. “You need to bargain with us to keep it intact.”
Bernie snorted. “What have I got to bargain with?”
“Information.”
“What information?”
“About Rostok,” I said. “Your former boss. And about something called Ezzie.”
Bernie looked more than surprised now. He looked positively sick.
“I’m not talking about my employer,” Bernie said. He crossed his arms above his ample belly.
“Jenna, use your cell to take a picture of our good friend,” I said.
She did so, and he scowled at us.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I can’t talk about that stuff,” he said. “If I do, I’m a dead man.”
“You’re a dead man anyway if you don’t.”
Bernie looked at me and twisted his lips. “You talk big, but I don’t think you have the balls for a murder, one right here in this hotel room.”
“Well I do,” Jenna said. “You pushed your way in here and I had no choice. It was self-defense.”
Bernie licked his lips, eyeing her with concern. But I could tell he still wasn’t going to talk.
“Quite right, Jenna,” I said, “but we don’t have to do the killing. We’ll simply spread rumors. I know several people in the Community. Dr. Meng, and the rest. You were in Rostok’s confidence, Mr. Kinley. You were fired, so you blabbed. Everything I know I’ll relate to everyone I see, putting your name down as the source. Actually, it will be quite helpful. I can cover my own tracks using your name. They’ll believe everything I’ve learned came from you. That allows me to safely cover my real sources.”
He was sweating again. “What do you know? Probably nothing.”
I put the gun down on the table. “You’re free to go,” I said.
“What?” Jenna said in protest.
I put my hand up. “He’s worth more to us alive than dead. We’ve got the perfect fall guy. We don’t even have to feel bad about it, as he moved on us first.”
“Wait a minute,” Bernie said. “The Community doesn’t like people with big mouths.”
“Oh, I know all about that, friend.”
Bernie sat there, staring at us for a second, his eyes flicking back and forth. I could tell he was thinking hard. Jenna had joined in my act now. I could tell she had figured out my plan. She picked up her cell and tapped at it.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m broadcasting your picture,” she said. “You want to take another shot while hugging me or something? No—I guess not.”
“Who are you going to send it to?” he asked, still trying to look disinterested and failing badly.
“Detective McKesson, for one,” Jenna said.
Bernie’s face reddened further, although I would have thought it impossible just a moment before. “That rat bastard?” he asked. “He’s a rogue, just like you. Figures you are working with him.”
“Are you talking or am I sending?” Jenna asked. Her finger was poised over the face of her cell phone, ready to tap the send button.
“We probably know most of it anyway,” I told him.
“Just tell us about your ex-boss,” said Jenna. “About the murders. About all the strange stuff going on lately.”
“If I tell you what I know, it won’t leave this room?”
“Not with your name on any of it,” I assured him.
“And all of this break-in stuff is forgotten?”
“Right,” Jenna said.
He let out a long sigh. “I don’t know much,” he said.
Then he began to talk, and it turned out he knew plenty.