reeked of body odor. Behind the counter sat an enormous man who resembled Jabba the Hutt. Rico did the introductions.
“Nice to meet you,” the bookie said.
A Cuban man came out from the back and counted the money in Candy’s bag. Candy had heard that Bobby worked for a syndicate that could cover any bet. The Cuban said something and returned to the back room.
“You want to bet it all on Miami College?” Bobby said.
Nigel grunted. “Think you can handle it?”
“Sure I can handle it. Don’t you want to know the spread?”
The newspaper store grew deathly still. Gamblers
“I would assume it’s a large one,” he said.
“Twenty-to-one.”
“Can you cover it, or should I take my action elsewhere?”
A bag of potato chips was on the counter, which Bobby kept sticking his hand into. Stuffing some into his mouth, he said, “You’re on!”
Bobby explained the rules. On bets over five grand, his syndicate sent a guy over, who took the money to a hidden location, where it was counted and checked to be certain it wasn’t counterfeit. Only then was the bet accepted.
Nigel agreed to the terms, and Bobby wrote him a chit.
Back in the limo, it was all Rico could do to not kiss Nigel.
“That was beautiful,” he said.
The basketball game was scheduled to start at seven-thirty. Rico drove them back to the Delano, then joined Nigel in the bungalow for a drink. Candy said she wanted to take a walk on the beach. Instead, she went to the Rose Bar. It was packed.
“Over here,” a voice said.
Tony Valentine sat in a corner booth, blending in with the dark wood. Candy slipped into the seat across from him.
“How did it go?”
“Bobby Jewel took the bet,” she said.
A waitress came and took their drink order. Valentine stared at her. She looked different from the other day on the balcony, less harsh. Shedding her whore skin, he guessed. “Who is Miami College playing tonight?” he asked.
“Duke.”
Duke was one of the best basketball teams in the nation, and a Final Four favorite. Even their benchwarmers could whip Miami College’s starters. Any money on Miami College was a sucker bet.
“Doesn’t Nigel suspect something is up?”
“Nigel has this computer program that says Miami is going to win.”
“Did Rico give it to him?”
She smiled. “Yeah. How did you know?”
“The game is fixed, but Rico doesn’t want anyone to know that. So he conned Nigel with one story, Bobby Jewel with another. If he gets caught, the police won’t know which story to believe.”
Their drinks came. Valentine sipped his coffee. In Candy’s face he saw a struggle going on. She stared at the carbonated bubbles in her soda.
“How do I protect Nigel from getting hurt?”
“Tell him everything, including your relationship with Rico.”
“He already knows I’m a hooker.”
“You told him?”
“Last night. I think he’d already figured it out. I told him I’d quit for him.”
“What did he say?”
“He kissed me.”
They finished their drinks. Valentine wanted to tell her to get out before she got hurt. Instead, he took out his wallet and paid the tab.
“So what’s going to happen?” she said.
“I’m going to go to the game tonight and figure out what Rico’s doing. Then I’m going to Bobby Jewel’s store. You and Nigel shouldn’t come in with Rico when he comes to collect the money.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to grab Rico when he comes in. Then, I’m going to take him to the police and have him arrested. I won’t bring up your name or Nigel’s.”
“What if Rico gets violent?”
“I’ll deal with it.”
She reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
“A man of his word. I like that.”
Valentine slipped out of the booth. “See you at the game.”
41
“What the hell is this?” Slash said angrily.
Mabel stared at the letter in her abductor’s outstretched hand. Normally, she needed her glasses to read, only the type was so large, it wasn’t necessary. Slash was holding Tony’s latest piece of hate mail.
“It’s from U. R. Dead,” she replied.
“I know. I can read some. Who sent it?”
“A person my boss put in jail.”
The phone on the desk rang. It was within reach, and she imagined picking up the receiver and yelling “Help” at the top of her lungs. Slash had the same thought, and put his hand around her throat.
“Pick it up, say hello. If it’s your boss, get off the line.”
“I thought you wanted me to tell him to come home.”
“I changed my mind.”
He loosened his grip, and Mabel picked up the receiver. It was Tony.
“I’m on the other line,” she said. “Call you right back.”
She hung up, and Slash shook the threatening letter in her face.
“Your boss is a cop.”
“He’s retired.”
“Cops don’t fucking retire,” he said contemptuously. “Someone threatens him, he’s going to be prepared. It’s called survival.”
She watched Slash tear through Tony’s study, pulling out drawers and turning them upside down, as well as boxes of gaffed gambling equipment. Soon, half of Tony’s things were lying on the floor, the room a total shambles.
Slash had dropped the U. R. Dead letter in her lap, and Mabel stared at it long and hard before she made the connection. Slash had figured out that there was a gun in the house, probably in this very room. And he didn’t know where it was.
Taking 595 west into the Everglades, Gerry felt the skin on his arms start to tingle. He’d grown up in Atlantic City, later moved to Brooklyn, and was not accustomed to seeing alligators sunning themselves by the roadside. The locals called them gators. Up north,
He pulled into the casino’s parking lot. It was full, the poor getting poorer. Driving around back, he parked his
