'Hit,' Susan said.
She drew a five.
'I hate losing,' she said.
'Well, I don't mean to be critical,' I said.
'But why are you taking a hit with eighteen?'
'I don't want to just stand there,' Susan said.
'Of course you don't,' I said.
We didn't find Anthony that day, or the next one. But Susan did locate something called the fashion mall, down past Treasure Island.
'Maybe they have a Victoria's Secret in there. You could buy one of those seductive floral nighties.'
'You know I don't wear nighties,' Susan said.
'We've known each other a long time now. It's okay, I think, for you to see me naked.'
'Oh good,' I said.
'But not right here,' Susan said. c'Give with one hand, take with the other,' I said.
CHAPTER 16
I came trudging back in the late afternoon of day three. Susan had taken the afternoon to explore the shops in Caesars Palace next door, and I had cruised the casinos alone, swinging off the Strip this time just to vary the monotony. The little guy in the Panama hat stayed with me. I wasn't expecting to find a Vegas Buster at the Debbie Reynolds Hotel. And I didn't. The little guy had trouble at the Debbie Reynolds Hotel. The lobby casino was too small to be unnoticed. He did his best, feeding quarters into one of the slots aimlessly, while I was not finding Anthony.
'Debbie'll sign her book for you,' the clerk said.
'Comes right out every night after her show and talks with people.' He gestured toward the coffee shop.
'Right outside there. I can sell you tickets.
Show starts at eight.'
I thought about getting two tickets, one for me, and one for the little guy, but decided that I wasted too much time being self amusing When I came into the lobby of The Mirage, I was thinking about beer. At the casino entrance on the rude bridge that arched the artificial flood, Hawk was leaning on the rail, looking at the water.
'Anthony's here,' Hawk said. He nodded toward the casino.
'Blackjack?'
'Un huh. He a guest here.'
We started toward the blackjack tables.
'You know that for a fact?'
Hawk looked at me.
'Of course you do,' I said.
'It pays to have contacts.'
'You know you got a tail,' Hawk said.
'Little guy, big beezer, Panama hat,' I said.
'Un huh. You don't want to brace him?'
'No. Let's let it play out.' I said.
'See what happens when he sees us with Anthony.'
'You figure he's from Gino?' Hawk said.
'Or Julius, or Marty Anaheim, or all three, or Wayne Newton, for all I know. But I figure it's Anthony he's trying to find.'
In person Anthony was better-looking than his wedding picture.
He was taller, more graceful. His nose was less pronounced. His eyes looked less beady. He was nicely dressed in a collarless white shirt buttoned to the neck, and a tropical-weight tan blazer that fit him well. He was standing at a $100 blackjack table, his face blank, watching the cards come out. Hawk and I separated as we approached and stood to either side, a little out of the game, spectators. There was nothing unusual about Anthony's play. He was as serious as any other hundred-dollar player. As I watched I counted cards for a while. Plus one for the low cards, minus one for the high ones, zero for the rest. After maybe half an hour I had a very low count, which meant that a lot of high cards had come out. That left a lot of low cards, which favored the dealer. Anthony looked at his watch, handed in his cards, picked up his chips, and left the table. Hawk and I followed him to the bar. He ordered a scotch and soda, and idly fed a dollar coin into one of the poker machines set into the bar. He won three dollars. He played it again and lost. Hawk sat down on one side of him, and I sat down on the other. He looked sideways at me, then at Hawk, and fed another coin into the machine.
Hawk ordered a couple of beers.
I said, 'How you doing, Anthony?'
