“Grift Sense,” he answered.
“This is Mark Perrier, general manager at Celebrity Casino in Las Vegas,” a man’s voice said. “Is Tony Valentine available?”
Celebrity was one of the newer casino chains. Instead of hiring gamers to run their casinos, Celebrity employed stuffed suits from the corporate world.
“For a price,” Valentine said.
“Excuse me?”
“He’s available for a price,” Valentine said, then added, “It’s a joke.”
There was a short silence on the line.
“I’d like to speak to him,” Perrier said.
“He’s busy right now, making a living. Can I tell him what this is about?”
“No, you cannot.”
Valentine had never consulted for Celebrity’s casinos, and didn’t think this conversation would change that. He dropped the receiver loudly on the desk, then noisily ruffled some papers. After a few moments, he picked the phone back up.
“Valentine here.”
“Wasn’t I just speaking to you?” Perrier asked angrily.
“That was my associate, Mr. Lipschitz,” Valentine said. “People tell us we sound a lot alike. What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Valentine, I’ll get right to the point. My owner has asked me to contact you regarding a homicide investigation taking place in Atlantic City. It involves a known cheater named Jack Donovan.”
Lying on Valentine’s desk was the playing card that Jack Donovan had given Gerry. He picked the card up, and stared at the garish Celebrity logo on the back.
“What about it?” Valentine asked.
“Celebrity would like the case to go away.”
“Is that so?”
“The Atlantic City police have informed us that you are the primary reason the case is still open. Celebrity is presently hosting the World Poker Showdown, the largest poker tournament in the world. Having our casino associated with a murder investigation of a known cheater could be a public relations nightmare. I don’t want to threaten you, Mr. Valentine, but if this case were to hit the newspapers and damage our reputation, we would seek punitive damages against your company.”
“That sounds like a threat to me,” Valentine said.
“I hope you’ll strongly consider what I’ve said.”
“Jack Donovan had a Celebrity playing card in his possession when he died. Were you aware of that?”
There was another silence on the line, this one a little longer.
“Mr. Valentine, I don’t like the course this conversation is taking,” Perrier said. “I’d appreciate an answer to my question. Will you drop this case or won’t you?”
“Get lost,” Valentine said, and hung up the phone.
Valentine scratched his chin while staring at the Celebrity playing card lying on his blotter. Where there was smoke, there was usually fire. If Celebrity wanted the case to go away, it was not just because of the bad publicity. Casinos received bad publicity every day, and it didn’t stop people from gambling in them.
He had an idea, and he went on his computer, opening the database of his friends who worked in the gaming industry. Information on close to a thousand people was kept on this database. He pulled up all the names of people he knew who’d gone to work for Celebrity. There were thirty files. Scanning through the names, one jumped out at him: Paul Cummins, an old crony from Atlantic City, and one of the top security men in the business. Paul had recently gone to work for Celebrity’s casino in Detroit, and Valentine called him on his cell phone.
“Paul here,” Cummins answered through a mouthful of food.
“Quit eating on the job.”
“As I live and breathe, if it isn’t Atlantic City’s gift to the world.”
“I miss you, too. Look, Paul, I need your help.”
“Name it.”
“A Celebrity playing card has turned up in a murder investigation,” Valentine said. “The card is clean, but something tells me it’s still a valuable clue, only I’m not seeing what it is.”
“Well, for starters, our playing cards aren’t in general circulation,” Cummins said. “Whoever had our card shouldn’t have, because they’re not supposed to leave the casinos.”
“They’re not?”
“No, sir. Ever since we got scammed by our own cards last year, we stopped selling them to the general public.”
Valentine felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured down his back. Years ago, casinos had sold used playing cards in their gift shops. But then the used cards had started turning up on the tables, mucked in by skilled sleight-of-hand artists. Some casinos had started “canceling” the used cards before they sold them by punching a hole in them, while others had stopped the practice altogether.
“So how would someone get a card out of one of your casinos?” Valentine asked.
“They wouldn’t,” Cummins said. “Not legally, anyway. Our cards are printed by the U.S. Playing Card Company in Cincinnati, and shipped by armored truck to each casino. When the cards reach the casino, they’re kept under lock and key until they’re delivered to the tables. The cards are used for an eight-hour shift, then collected, inspected, and destroyed.”
“How could someone get one of your cards?” Valentine asked.
“They’d have to bribe an employee. If that happened in Detroit, I’d find out about it, because every card is accounted for before it’s destroyed.”
Valentine picked up the card lying on his desk. “What would you do?”
“I’d have the employee arrested,” Cummins said. “I’d also notify management, and we’d probably do something drastic, like have all our playing cards changed. Now, if you don’t mind, I want to ask you a question. A Celebrity playing card has obviously been taken from one of our casinos. I’d like to know, which one?”
“Why?”
“Job security.”
Valentine examined the card in his hand. Celebrity’s name was printed in bold colors on its back, but not the casino’s location.
“I don’t know,” Valentine said.
“Just tell me the back color,” Cummins said.
“Purple.”
“Be still my beating heart.”
“Not yours?”
“No,” Cummins said. “Purple is from our new casino in Las Vegas that opened last week. They’re hosting the World Poker Showdown.”
“When last week?”
“The grand opening was Friday night. They didn’t invite you?”
Valentine counted backward on his fingers. Last Friday was six days ago, and Jack Donovan had died eight days ago. Another bucket of water came splashing down his back, this one even colder than the first.
“Thanks, Paul,” he said. “Thanks a lot.”
4
Valentine said good-bye to Cummins and hung up, then weighed calling Gerry. He wanted to tell his son what he’d learned, and also to apologize. He hadn’t believed that Jack Donovan was murdered. Now, he knew better.
He’d let it wait. Confirming what Gerry already knew wasn’t going to make his son feel better. In fact, it would only get him more worked up. Better to let Gerry spend a peaceful night with his wife and baby, and tell him tomorrow.
His size twelves made the wooden floors creak as he padded through the house to his kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water from the tap, and had it halfway to his lips when he remembered how awful the water tasted in Florida. Like a science experiment, as Gerry was fond of saying. He took a long swallow anyway.