“Yes.”
“Someone else involved?”
He nodded.
“But you don’t know who?”
“No, but I plan to find out,” he said. He lifted his eyes. Lucy was seething, her face hard and unforgiving.
“I get it,” she said. “You’re like the Royal Canadian Mounties; you always get your man. That’s what drove you to call me. You wanted to nail him. You didn’t care about the money I lost.” She spread her arms and said, “See the Taj Mahal I live in? I barely scrape by. That money was going to get me back on track. It was my salvation.”
He didn’t know what to tell her. The money had never been hers. Only Lucy wasn’t willing to accept that. He felt bad for her even if she was a sucker, and said, “Can I ask you something? Why did you go along with him?”
“Because he said Nick was a bastard, and he had it coming,” she said.
Valentine blinked. It
“Get up,” she said.
He rose slowly, his hands unconsciously making a conciliatory gesture. She pointed at the front door. “Leave. And don’t ever call me again.”
“Lucy, I’m trying to help you.”
“Sure you are. The next thing I know, the cops will be banging on my door.”
At the door he turned, his mind struggling for something to say. “Thanks for the pants,” he blurted out.
The words hadn’t come out right, and he made it out of the house before she threw an ashtray at him.
20
Talking to women had never been his strong suit. He went back to the Acropolis and found the lobby jammed with gawking tourists. There was a photo shoot going on, and he elbowed his way through the crowd.
In the center of it all, Nick lay on the floor in a garish purple suit, surrounded by a sea of gold coins. Wanda stood behind him in a mermaid’s outfit, her breasts practically exploding over the top of the shimmering costume. Nick was getting in touch with his inner child, and waved gleefully at him.
“We need to talk,” Valentine said over the noise.
“Can’t you see I’m working?” Nick said. “These guys are from the Discovery Channel. They’re filming a show about lost treasures. They’re going to do a segment about my losing the gold coins from the
Valentine glanced at Wanda and saw her flash a smile. Was Nick implying that he’d actually married a woman with a brain? That would be a first.
“It’s about Frank Fontaine,” Valentine said.
“Let me guess,” Nick said. “He died in the joint, and you just had to tell me.”
“I saw him in your casino.”
To the anger of the Discovery Channel crew, Nick jumped off the floor, kicking the fake gold coins in every direction. Grabbing Valentine by the wrist, he dragged him into One-Armed Billy’s alcove and threw the chain up so no one could enter. Big Joe Smith remained passively on his stool.
“You saw Frank Fontaine in
“That’s right.”
“Is he involved with Lucy Price?”
“He set her up.”
“So what do I do?” Nick said anxiously.
“First, I need to figure out exactly how Fontaine ripped you off, and who on your staff is involved. Once I have evidence, I’ll call Bill Higgins and get the Gaming Control Board to make the arrests. You need to make a statement; otherwise, cheaters are going to think this place is a candy store.
“In the meantime, you personally need to start watching things. Start with the cage. If a customer tries to make a large withdrawal, you may want to hold things up and have a look.”
“Am I that vulnerable?” Nick asked worriedly.
Valentine nodded. Frank Fontaine didn’t scam casinos; he shut them down. A lot more money than Lucy Price’s twenty-five grand was at stake here.
Nick kicked the carpet in anger. “Turn your head for a second in this business, and somebody will pick your pocket.”
A woman wearing a DISCOVERY CHANNEL shirt appeared in the alcove’s doorway. She carried a clipboard and appeared to be in charge. “Nick, we need to wrap up the segment. Your customers are stealing the fake coins.”
She left, and Nick suddenly punched the air. “Fontaine wants a fight, he’s going to get one.” He looked at Valentine. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”
“Meet me in the surveillance control room in ten minutes.”
“Done,” Nick said.
Valentine went to the surveillance control room on the third floor and found Wily in front of the wall of video monitors. Wily had seen them talking on a monitor and knew there was a storm brewing. Valentine got him into his office, then shut the door so none of the other surveillance technicians could hear.
“Am I in trouble?” Wily asked.
“No, I left you out of it.”
The head of security smiled. “Thanks for the save.”
“That’s the good news. The bad news is, the guy I saw on the tape this morning
“Twelve,” Wily said.
“What games did he visit?”
“All of them.”
Valentine leaned on the edge of the desk. If Fontaine was working scams on every game, it meant he was using a small army of accomplices. To do that, he needed someone working with him in the surveillance control room.
“How many people you have working the monitors?” Valentine asked.
“Right now? Fourteen.”
“How many can you trust?”
Wily went into the next room and got a log sheet that showed who was working that shift. His eyes scanned the list of names. “Nine of these people I’d vouch for. The other five are new.”
“How new?”
“A month.”
“Send them home.”
“Right now?”
“Right now. And get their personnel folders while you’re at it.”
Wily went into the next room and sent the five employees home. He left the door ajar, and Valentine saw Nick enter the surveillance control room. The purple suit was gone, replaced by a black silk shirt, black silk trousers, and layers of thick gold chains. Nick was a retro man and proud of it. He found Valentine in the office.
“Let’s kick some ass,” the little Greek said.
Wily got his nine trusted employees to leave their stations and assemble in front of the video wall. All had been in Nick’s employ for ten years or more and had gray or white hair. At one time or another, Valentine had spoken with each of them. Their jobs didn’t pay great, but Nick gave them health insurance and a pension plan, so they hung around and kept things honest downstairs.
