cheap Polaroid camera, and held it with one hand.“Say cheese,” he said, and began snapping photographs. As each one popped out of the camera, he placed them in a row on the bed. He was close enough for Fuller to punch in the stomach, only Krista had him in a death grip. As the snapshots developed, the Dresser showed them to Fuller. In every one, he’d included Krista’s arms being tied to the headboard.
“Pick your favorite,” he said.
“I don’t have a favorite,” Fuller said through clenched teeth.
“Pick one anyway. I’m going to send it to your boss in Washington.”
“You’re not going to kill me?”
“That would be a taint on my resume. No, I prefer to ruin you.”
Fuller stared at the snapshots. He’d already been put on leave for beating up his wife. These pictures would be the end of the line, at least at the government trough. He didn’t want that. He liked being in the FBI; it gave him a power that no other job in the world afforded him. He didn’t believe in truth and justice the way Romero did. He believed in power, and holding onto it. “Maybe we could make a deal,” Fuller said.
“I’m listening,” the Dresser said.
“I’ll leave Atlantic City and drop the investigation.”
“Is that in the realm of your power?”
“Yes. I’ll tell my superiors I’ve traced you to another city. They’ll never know.”
“What about the wet back?”
Fuller had to think. Getting Romero to leave wouldn’t be easy, but he saw no reason to tell the Dresser that. “Romero will do as I tell him,” he said.
The Dresser ran the shotgun’s barrel between Fuller’s legs. “Is that a promise?”
Fuller grit his teeth. “Yes.”
“Scout’s honor?”
“You have my word.”
“And I’m sure your friend will also keep her mouth shut.”
“I won’t say nothing,” Krista said.
The Dresser picked up the snapshots from the bed and slipped them into his pocket. “I’ll keep these, just in case you change your mind. Have a nice day.”
He went to the door, opened it, and another blast of cold air invaded the room. It was snowing outside, and he walked backwards out the door, and disappeared.
Fuller felt Krista’s legs untangle themselves from his own. Climbing off the bed, he went to the open doorway and stared outside. The snow was coming down hard, the giant flakes covering everything in sight. He envisioned himself running naked down the street after a man with a shotgun. He shut the door and locked it.
“Let me go,” Krista said.
He untied Krista from the headboard. She grabbed her clothes from the closet and started to throw them on. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he shook her violently.
“You’re not going to go to the police, understand?”
She looked into his eyes. “You’re just as crazy as he is.”
“Answer me.”
“You’re hurting me…”
“This is nothing.”
“Okay… no police. I promise.”
Fuller let her go, and she ran half-naked out the door.
Chapter 27
There was a cork bulletin board hanging in Resorts’ surveillance control room. Pinned to it were pictures of known cheaters. Each cheater had been christened with a nickname. That way, if one of them came into the casino, a tech could put out an alert, and everyone would know who he was talking about. It was another Bill Higgins trick.
Valentine awoke to a ringing phone. The bedroom was dark, and he stared at the luminous clock on his bedside table. Midnight. He snatched up the receiver.
“This had better be good.”
“The Marx Brothers are in the casino,” a tech named Romaine said.
The Marx Brothers were the nickname Valentine had given the Hirsch brothers. He’d stuck their photo on the cork board, hoping they’d show up again. He threw his legs over the side of the bed. “What are they doing?”
“One’s playing craps, another blackjack, and the third is in the bar.”
“Keep watching them. I’ll be right over.”
“What if they try to leave?” Romaine asked.
