Hanging up, he smiled at me and resumed drinking his soda.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“The Hispanic is standing too far behind the table to be using signals,” Valentine explained. “I’m guessing he’s got an electronic transmitter in his pocket that he’s using to signal the others. Cheaters call these transmitters thumpers. A radio frequency tracking device should pick up the signal, and we’ll have our proof.”
“Are thumpers illegal inside a casino?”
“They sure are.”
A few minutes later the house phone rang and Valentine took the call.
“So they are using a thumper,” he said. “Go ahead and arrest them, but be careful. One of these guys slit our dealer’s throat.”
Valentine dropped the phone into the receiver. He looked tired but satisfied. All his hard work had paid off, and now he was going to get his reward. He called the other men over, and explained that the bust was about to go down.
I continued to watch the lanky Hispanic on the monitor. He had a menacing quality that the other members of the gang didn’t have. Then I spotted something that I hadn’t seen before. Beneath the Hispanic’s right eye was a small tattoo. I edged up to the monitor for a better look. It was a tear drop. Criminals often had tear drops tattooed beneath their eyes after they murdered someone. In a loud voice I said, “The Hispanic is your killer. Tell your guys on the floor to be careful when they arrest him. He’s probably carrying a weapon.”
Valentine grabbed the house phone and relayed the information to the men downstairs. “Put the heavy on these guys,” he said.
“That’s a new one,” I said.
“Just watch,” he said.
Sixty seconds later, an army of security guards appeared on the monitor, and swooped down on the table where the cheaters were sitting. Working in tandem, the guards upended the table, and wrestled the gang and the Hispanic to the floor. It was lightning fast, with the cheaters never knowing what hit them.
The Hispanic was handcuffed and frisked. From his pockets the guards removed the thumper, along with a thick wad of cash. Strapped to his leg was a stiletto, which was held up to the camera for us to see.
“You were right,” Valentine said. “Sure you’ve never done this before?”
“Beginners luck,” I said.
A bottle of champagne was broken out, opened, and poured. I had not had champagne since my wedding, and forced a glass down.
“So what can I do for you?” Valentine asked.
“Help me find a missing girl,” I said.
CHAPTER 15
I gave Valentine the details of Sara Long’s visit to the Hard Rock. He was frowning by the time I finished filling him in.
“I’ve got some bad news for you,” Valentine said. “We may not have this guy on any of our surveillance tapes.”
“But I thought the surveillance cameras were on twenty-four/seven,” I said.
“They are, but they don’t catch everyone.”
My knowledge of how casino surveillance worked was limited to what I’d seen on TV and at the movies, where bad guys inside casinos always seemed to get caught on film. I shook my head, not understanding.
“The Hard Rock’s casino is the size of three football fields,” Valentine explained. “At any given time, the eye- in-the-sky cameras are watching half the floor, leaving the other half unwatched. That means that one hundred percent of the time, fifty percent of the casino isn’t being watched. A bad guy can come in, pull a scam, and walk out, and the cameras may never spot him.”
“So your systems aren’t foolproof.”
“If they were, I’d be out of a job. Now let me ask you a question. This young woman who was abducted, was she pretty?”
“Very pretty.”
“That’s in our favor. Most of the technicians working surveillance are men, and they usually film the pretty girls that come in. It’s against the rules, but they do it anyway.”
“So there may be a tape of Sara.”
“Yes. And hopefully, a tape of your suspect. Let’s go find a tech.”
I followed Valentine across the surveillance control room to where a tech sat staring at a computer screen while eating his lunch. The tech had wild, unkempt hair, and two-day stubble sprouting from his chin. His work station was littered with fast-food wrappers and Post-it Notes stuck to every available space. He glanced at Buster, who had not made a sound since entering the room, and tossed him a french fry.
“What kind of dog is that?” the tech asked.
“Australian Shepherd,” I replied.
“He’s cool. I want one.”
“Joey Riddle, this is Jack Carpenter,” Valentine said. “He’s an ex-cop.”
Riddle looked me up and down.
“You could have fooled me,” Riddle said.
“I need a favor,” Valentine said. “A pretty college girl was on the casino floor two nights ago, and I want to see if one of the hot-blooded males on duty filmed her.”
“What time was she here?” Riddle asked.
“Around eleven p.m.,” I replied.
“Did she gamble?”
“No. She was with two of her friends. They just people-watched.”
“Then they probably hung around the Tower of Power Center Bar,” Riddle said. “It’s a real popular spot with the ladies.”
“We’d like to see the film from the Tower of Power two nights ago,” Valentine said.
“Your wish is my command.”
Riddle’s bony fingers danced across his computer’s keyboard. A surveillance film of the Center Bar appeared on his computer screen. The bar was circular, and situated in the middle of the bustling casino floor. Stamped in the corner of the film was the date and time the film had been taken. It was from two nights ago at 11:00 p.m.
My eyes scanned the bar. Sara Long, Amber Woodward, and Holly Masterson were sitting together, sipping Cokes. I pointed at Sara.
“That’s her,” I said.
“Beau-ti-ful,” Riddle declared.
“Do you see the stalker?” Valentine asked.
I edged closer to the screen. The strange little man who called himself Mouse was not in the picture.
“No,” I said.
“Maybe he’ll show up later on,” Valentine said.
We watched Sara, Amber, and Holly mingle at the bar, then take a stroll through the casino, stopping to watch the different games or when someone hit a jackpot on a slot machine. The three young women were all pretty, and the camera never left them. It didn’t help my cause, because I couldn’t see if anyone was following them.
“Damn,” I said. “I can’t see who’s around her.”
“Joey, can you check the database to see if we have any other surveillance footage of these girls?” Valentine asked.
“Sure thing,” Riddle said.
Freezing the images on the screen, Riddle typed a command into the computer while tossing pieces of bread from his unfinished sandwich to my dog.
