was still very warm out. It would be dark soon and he hoped it would cool off then.
In the Flamingo casino he found her. She was playing at a one-to-four table with five men. The seat on her left was open but Bosch didn’t take it. Instead, he hung back with the crowd around a roulette table and watched her.
Eleanor Wish’s face showed total concentration on the cards as she played. Bosch watched as the men she was playing against stole looks at her, and it gave Bosch a weird thrill to know they secretly coveted her. In the ten minutes he watched, she won one hand-he was too far away to see what she won with-and bailed out early on five others. It looked as though she was well ahead. She had a full rack in front of her and six stacks of chips on the blue felt.
After he watched her win a second hand-this time a massive pot-and the dealer began to push the pile of blue chips to her spot, Bosch looked around for a pay phone. He called Felton at home and got Wish’s home phone and address. The captain told him that the address, on Sands Avenue, was not far off the strip in an area of apartment buildings mostly inhabited by casino employees. Bosch didn’t tell him that he had already found her. Instead, he thanked him and hung up.
When Bosch got back to the poker room she was gone. The five men were still there, but there was a new dealer and no Eleanor Wish. Her chips were gone. She had cashed out and he had lost her. Bosch cursed to himself.
“You looking for someone?”
Bosch turned around. It was Eleanor. There was no smile on her face, just a slight look of irritation or maybe defiance. His eyes fell to the small white scar on her jawline.
“I, uh…Eleanor…yeah, I was looking for you.”
“You were always so obvious. I picked you out one minute after you were there. I would’ve gotten up then but I was bringing that guy from Kansas along. He thought he knew when I was bluffing. He didn’t know shit. Just like you.”
Bosch was tongue-tied. This was not how he had envisioned this happening and he didn’t know how to proceed.
“Look, Eleanor, I, uh, just wanted to see how you were doing. I don’t know, I just…”
“Right. So you just flew out to Vegas to look me up? What’s going on, Bosch?”
Bosch looked around. They were standing in a crowded section of the casino. Players passing on both sides of them, the cacophony of the slot machine din and whoops of success and failure created a blur of sight and sound around him.
“I’ll tell you. Do you want to get a drink or something, maybe something to eat?”
“One drink.”
“You know a place that’s quiet?”
“Not here. Follow me.”
They left through the front doors of the casino and walked out into the dry heat of the night. The sun was all the way down now and it was neon that lit the sky.
“There’s a bar in Caesar’s that’s quiet. It doesn’t have any machines.”
She led him across the street and onto the people mover that delivered them to the front door of Caesar’s Palace. They walked past the front desk and into a circular bar where there were only three other customers. Eleanor had been right. It was an oasis with no poker or slot machines. Just the bar. He ordered a beer and she ordered scotch and water. She lit a cigarette.
“You didn’t used to smoke before,” he said. “In fact, I remember you were-”
“That was a long time ago. Why are you here?”
“I’m on a case.”
During the walk over he’d had time to compose himself and put his thoughts in order.
“What case and what does it have to do with me?”
“It’s got nothing to do with you, but you knew the guy. You played poker with him on Friday at the Mirage.”
Curiosity and confusion creased her brow. Bosch remembered how she used to do that and remembered how attractive he’d found it. He wanted to reach over and touch her but he didn’t. He had to remind himself that she was different now.
“Anthony Aliso,” he said.
He watched the surprise play on her face and believed instantly that it was real. He wasn’t a poker player from Kansas who couldn’t read a bluff. He had known this woman and believed from the look on her face she clearly did not know Aliso was dead until he told her.
“Tony A…,” she said and then let it trail off.
“Did you know him well or just to play against?”
She had a distant look in her dark eyes.
“Just when I’d see him there. At the Mirage. I’ve been playing there on Fridays. A lot of fresh money and faces come in. I’d see him there a couple times a month. For a while I thought he was a local, too.”
“How’d you find out he wasn’t?”
“He told me. We had a drink together a couple months ago. There were no seats at the tables. We put our names in and told Frank, he’s the night man, to come get us at the bar when there was an opening. So we had a drink and that’s when he told me he was from L.A. He said he was in the movie business.”
“That’s it, nothing else?”
“Well, yeah, he said other things. We talked. Nothing that stands out, though. We were passing the time until one of our names came up.”
“You didn’t see him again outside of playing?”
“No, and what’s it to you? Are you saying I’m a suspect because I had a drink with the guy?”
“No, I’m not saying that, Eleanor. Not at all.”
Bosch got out his own cigarettes and lit one. The waitress in a white-and-gold toga brought their drinks, and they settled into a silence for a long moment. Bosch had lost his momentum. He was back to not knowing what to say.
“Looked like you were doing pretty good tonight,” he tried.
“Better than most nights. I got my quota and I got out.”
“Quota?”
“Whenever I get two hundred up I cash out. I’m not greedy and I know luck doesn’t last for long on any given night. I never lose more than a hundred, and if I’m lucky enough to get two hundred ahead, then I’m done for the night. I got there early tonight.”
“How’d you-”
He stopped himself. He knew the answer.
“How’d I learn to play poker well enough to live off it? You spend three and a half years inside and you learn to smoke and play poker and other things.”
She looked directly at him as if daring him to say anything about it. After another long moment she broke away and got out another cigarette. Bosch lit it for her.
“So there’s no day job? Just the poker?”
“That’s right. I’ve been doing this almost a year now. Kind of hard to find a straight job, Bosch. You tell ’em you’re a former FBI agent and their eyes light up. Then you tell them you just got out of federal prison and they go dead.”
“I’m sorry, Eleanor.”
“Don’t be. I’m not complaining. I make more than enough to get by, every now and then I meet interesting people like your guy Tony A., and there’s no state income tax here. What do I have to complain about, except maybe that it gets to be over a hundred degrees in the shade about ninety times a year too many?”
The bitterness was not lost on him.
“I mean I’m sorry about everything. I know it doesn’t do you any good now, but I wish I had it to do all over again. I’ve learned things since then, and I would’ve played it all differently. That’s all I wanted to tell you. I saw you on the surveillance tape playing with Tony Aliso and I wanted to find you to tell you that. That’s all I wanted.”
