police? I thought you were working for Nick.'
Valentine swallowed hard. There was no dumber lie than the one he'd just told. All Sherry had to do was call Longo and his goose was cooked. In answer to his prayers, the dog staggered in looking as drunk as a sailor and peed on the salmon-colored carpet.
'Aw, for the love of Christ,' Sherry screeched, running to the kitchen to grab a roll of paper towels. Sponging up the mess, she said, 'Look, Tony, I don't know what you're up to, and I don't care. Personally, I don't give a rat's ass what happens to Nola. She had her chance to grab the brass ring and she blew it.'
The brass ring. Valentine had to think hard about that one.
'Any idea where she might be hiding out?'
'In the arms of Frank Fontaine.'
'You think so? The police don't think she had anything to do with it. Neither does Sammy Mann.'
'Screw Sammy and screw the police,' Sherry swore. 'She's guilty as sin.'
The cockapoo was peeing again. Bending down, she cleaned the mess up, then stuck the wet paper towel in the dog's face. 'See this, you stupid little mutt? Keep it up and you can live at the pound.'
'Maybe there's something wrong with its bladder,' Valentine said, not wanting to see the dog punished on his account.
'It's always something,' Sherry replied, without a hint of sympathy. 'Look, I need to run.'
'One more question,' he said.
'You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?'
He'd been called a lot worse over the years, but never by someone as downright mean as this snake. In a measured tone, he said, 'You and Nola were living together when she and Nick had their fling, right?'
'Yeah, so?'
'The night Nick took Nola on the catwalk and they had sex, Nola told you she saw something that wasn't kosher with the casino's security.'
'That's right. She said there was a fight or something.'
'A fight?'
'Some drunk broad took a swing at a dealer and all hell broke loose. Broad's husband went ballistic, started beating people up. Guy was a professional wrestler or something.'
'And during the commotion, Nola saw the flaw.'
'I guess.'
'She never elaborated?'
'She said that she could close Nick down if she wanted to. I tried to pump her, but she wouldn't tell. I think it made her feel powerful, knowing she had Nick by the balls.'
The cockapoo was clawing her leg, feeling better, and Sherry scooped him up and let him lick her face.
'That's momma's little boy,' she cooed, trading kisses. 'Nasty man got you all upset, didn't he? Coming in here and pissing Mommy off. We won't let that happen again, will we?'
To her visitor she said, 'Anything else?'
'You moving in with Nick?'
'What business is that of yours?'
'Just curious.'
'Yeah, I'm moving in with Nick.'
'Does he know, or were you going to make it a surprise?'
Sherry marched him to the front door. Stepping outside into the desert inferno, Valentine spied a three- hundred-pound whale of a woman lugging the ThighMaster down the street. On the card table, she'd left three dollars as payment.
'Can I give you some advice?' he asked.
'Get lost,' Sherry replied, slamming the door.
'Don't sell your house,' he said anyway, then traipsed across the lawn to his baking car.
On the way back into town, Valentine stopped by Bill Higgins's office on Clark Street and talked his friend into going off campus for a cup of coffee and a chat. Higgins chose a greasy spoon within spitting distance of Glitter Gulch, a four-block galaxy of neon and twinkling lights that defined the original downtown of Las Vegas. The Gulch was the epitome of Old West boomtown decadence, the smaller hotels and casinos still clinging to their seedy homespun ways.
'Coffee's okay, but the food will kill you,' Higgins cautioned as a sullen waitress approached their booth. 'I once saw a guy nearly choke to death on a jelly doughnut.'
'Thanks for the warning.'
The waitress took their order and sauntered off. Higgins pointed out the window at a row of dilapidated buildings across the street. 'See that gym on the second floor? The toughest guys in Vegas hang out in that gym, guys who used boxing to climb out of the ghetto. When Marvin Hagler fought Tommy Hearns, that was where he worked out. No air-conditioned tent at Caesars for him.'
Valentine remembered the bout well, nine minutes of glorious mayhem that ended with Hagler's arm raised in triumph and Hearns on his back counting stars. Hearns had been younger, taller, and the superior ring technician. Hagler's only advantage had been his heart.
'You get to see Hagler train?'
'I went one day at lunch. The gym was like an oven. I lasted twenty minutes.'
'How long was Hagler there?'
'Three weeks.'
Their coffee came, a witch's brew that Higgins tempered with two packets of cream and plenty of sugar. Valentine drank his black.
'Any luck finding Nola?' Higgins asked, blowing on his cup.
'Not yet. How about you?'
'Nothing. We're kind of strapped right now with all the big hitters rolling into town for the Holyfield fight.'
'Wouldn't be too hard for Fontaine to go out to the airport and come back in as a tourist, would it?'
Higgins put his cup down. 'That's an interesting idea. You really think he'd try something as brazen as that?'
'He did it in Atlantic City once,' Valentine said. 'We missed him completely.'
'You think Nola's with him?'
'I do. In disguise, of course.'
'Where's he staying?'
'Hard to say. Someplace large and impersonal that's in walking distance to the Acropolis. He's probably checking out the new security measures as we speak.'
'What's his identity this time?'
'Something ordinary, like a lightbulb salesman from Minnesota with two-point-four kids and a doting wife. His hair is a different color and he's wearing elevators in his shoes. He probably has some new facial hair and a really ugly wardrobe.'
'You know this guy pretty well.'
'Not well enough to catch him.'
'When's he going to take another stab at Nick's?'
'Soon. He'll wait until the casino is packed. The day after the fight might be an opportune time. Lots of noise and adrenaline.'
'Any idea how he'll do it?'
'No. But I think someone inside the casino will be helping him.'
Higgins winced like he'd been kicked in the solar plexus. Inventory was impossible to track on a casino floor, and if an employee was involved in a scam, millions of dollars could walk out the front door.
'You're giving me an ulcer, you know that?'
'There's still time,' Valentine said.
'To do what? Update my resume? Look Tony, every time a casino gets whacked in this town, I get my tit put in a wringer. I'm going to be out of work if this thing comes down.'
