“Stop that.”
Once they were inside, she pulled him over to a secluded spot and gave him a kiss.
“I’m glad you’re not leaving Las Vegas,” she said.
Valentine got to test his disguise as he neared Celebrity’s poker room. One of the guards who’d escorted him out the day before walked past. Their eyes met, and Valentine touched the brim of his hat. The guard looked through him like he was invisible.
He and Gloria entered the poker room to find a mob of spectators crowded around a table containing the first prize, a whopping ten million bucks stacked like firewood. Shotgun-toting guards stood by the money, their steely eyes roaming the room. It was the biggest prize in professional sports, and according to the electronic leader board hanging over the feature table, DeMarco was the favorite to claim it.
He shuffled up to the feature table. It was bathed in bright lights, with DeMarco’s stacks of chips dwarfing his opponents’. DeMarco looked different than he had in previous days, his face drawn and serious, and Valentine wondered if his conscience was eating at him.
“Is that your son over there?” Gloria whispered. “He looks just like you.”
He spotted Gerry on the other side of the poker room and decided to give his disguise another test. He walked over to him and, getting no reaction, cleared his throat.
“Didn’t I see you on
His son’s eyes went wide. “Pop? Is that you?”
“Keep your voice down.”
“Why the disguise?”
“I got banned from the tournament. You ready for a little payback?”
Gerry nodded enthusiastically. He hadn’t shaved and his eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, but there was a spark in his face that said he was more than ready.
“Good,” Valentine said. “Here’s the plan. The players are going on break soon, and I’m going to confront DeMarco, and tell him the little game he’s playing is over. See that pretty blonde lady on the other side of the room? She’s a newscaster I met. She’s going to distract Scalzo and the bodyguard. I need you to cover her back in case something goes wrong.”
His son look frustrated. “Why don’t you just pull DeMarco off the table, and expose the scam? Then the police can arrest Scalzo.”
Valentine drew close to his son. “If I do that, it’s going to hurt every casino in Las Vegas, and in the long run, our business as well. Let me handle this my way, okay?”
His son’s face softened. “Sure, Pop. Whatever you want.”
45
Being the chip leader in a poker tournament was like being king of the world. While the other players were trying to survive, DeMarco could pick and choose his spots, pouncing on players with weak cards when he knew they were bluffing. Letting the other players win a few hands would have made things more equal, but he’d decided it was time to claim his prize and get out of Las Vegas.
The conversation with his father had been eating at him all morning. They hadn’t been talking five minutes when his father had told him what a bad person his uncle George was and how DeMarco needed to get away from him. What were his exact words?
DeMarco hadn’t liked that. His uncle could be mean and do horrible things, but that didn’t negate the treatment DeMarco had gotten from him. His uncle had raised him, and DeMarco wasn’t going to run away just because his father didn’t like the man.
But his father hadn’t let up, and when he andDeMarco had finally said good-bye, DeMarco had been ready to curse him out.
“There will be a fifteen-minute break after this hand is concluded,” the tournament director announced over the public address.
Because DeMarco was not in the hand, he decided to leave the table early. He was not five steps away from the table when his uncle was by his side.
“You okay, Skipper?”
“I’m fine, Uncle George. I just need to hit the bathroom.”
DeMarco heard his uncle snap his fingers.
“Guido,” his uncle said. “Skipper needs to take a leak. Make sure no one gets near him.”
“Yes, Mr. Scalzo.”
Guido led him across the poker room to the men’s lavatories. As they walked, DeMarco listened to Guido’s breathing. Guido’s nose sounded broken from the punches he’d received that morning. His uncle had been abusing Guido unmercifully the past few days, and DeMarco was surprised his uncle’s bodyguard hadn’t walked out on him. They came to the lavatories and Guido stopped.
“Shit,” Guido said.
“What’s wrong?” DeMarco asked.
“That lady newscaster just cornered your uncle and shoved a microphone in his face. Her cameraman is filming them, too.”
“You want to go rescue him?”
“Your uncle told me to keep you company.”
“I can take a leak without peeing on my leg. Go help him.”
Guido hesitated. DeMarco sensed that he was probably enjoying seeing his uncle in a tight spot. His uncle had dished out more than he’d taken over the years, and there was a strange joy in seeing him get paid back.
“Why do you put up with him, Guido?” DeMarco asked.
“What do you mean?” the bodyguard said.
“My uncle’s bullshit. Why do you put up with it?”
“I don’t have a choice,” Guido said. “A long time ago, I did something really stupid, and your uncle saved me from going to prison for the rest of my life. In return, I agreed to be his bodyguard and do whatever he told me. That’s the deal we struck.”
“Oh,” DeMarco said.
“Mind if I ask you a question?”
“What’s that?”
Guido jabbed DeMarco in the chest with his finger. “Why do
DeMarco slipped into the men’s lavatory. Guido had sounded just like his father. Why did he put up with his uncle’s nonsense? He guessed it was because he loved him.
He’d been in the men’s room enough times to have the layout memorized. Stalls on the right, urinals on the left. He soldiered up to an empty urinal and unzipped his fly. He’d heard of guys who’d lost monster hands because they’d had to pee. Thinking about it made him smile, and at first he did not hear the man occupy the urinal beside him.
“How’s that earpiece working?” the man asked.
DeMarco froze. The voice was older, with a heavy Jersey accent. “Excuse me?” he said.
“The inner-canal earpiece you’re using to scam the tournament,” the voice said. “How’s it holding up?”
“I don’t know what—”
“It’s a modified children’s hearing aid,” the voice said. “I’ve got a couple in my collection. They’re smaller than regular hearing aids, which lets you stick them way down in your ear so no one will see them, but they also break down easier. Yours working all right?”
“Who are you?”
“Tony Valentine. I was hired by the Nevada Gaming Control Board to investigate you.”
DeMarco finished his business, then stepped away from the stall and faced his accuser. “You going to bust me?”
“Not today,” Valentine said.
