‘But it emits a signal, right?’
‘Yes, it transmits sound. What you hear, we hear.’
‘Can anyone tel ?’
‘Theoretical y. But only if they have the inside track on FBI frequencies. We’ve not had a problem before.’
‘But if Daniel Kel y has got this information from one of you already?’
She grimaced. ‘Then the proverbial hits the fan.
But we’l get you and your parents out, don’t worry.’
Sal y was preening when I returned to her side.
‘That young man was real y interested in my views,’ she said. ‘He said he total y agreed that the airport was bland and could do with some more chal enging artworks—maybe a Damien Hirst cow or diamond skul —this is Vegas, after al .’
‘Why not go the whole hog and have the Emin bed?’ grumbled Simon, who didn’t think highly of instal ation works. ‘Most people bumming about airports look as though they could do with a good sleep.’
‘I should have thought of that.’ Sal y winked at me.
‘I think one of Dali’s melting clock faces is more appropriate—time seems like fudge for international travel ers,’ I suggested.
My parents stopped and stared at me in amazement.
‘What?’ I asked, embarrassed.
‘You understand art!’ Sal y gasped.
‘Yeah, so?’
Simon laughed with delight. ‘Al these years and I thought it wasn’t rubbing off on her!’ He gave me a smacking kiss.
‘I’m stil not going to go splash paint on unsuspecting canvases,’ I mumbled, pleased I’d given them something to celebrate. I felt bad enough about letting them walk into this blind.
‘We wouldn’t expect you to. In fact, I think I’d forbid you to try. Imagine having another scatty artist in the family!’
Simon linked his arms in mine and Sal y’s and waltzed us out of the airport to the waiting car.
Sliding into the back seat, the reality of what was happening rushed back. It wasn’t the same vehicle I’d been carried in to the warehouse—just an innocuous hotel shuttle to the airport—but I stil felt a chil run up my spine.
Zed?
It’s OK, Sky. Victor and I are two cars behind.
We’ll drop back and pass the tail over to another agent in a moment, but we won’t lose you.
Is it OK to talk like this?
Until you reach the hotel. We’re guessing MariaKelly is the surviving shield expert so we mustn’ttake risks.
Tell me again, how much do I have to get for the FBI to move in?
We need them to admit to involvement in thekidnapping or to do something illegal on this trip,like try to falsify your memories—that’s the mostlikely. An added bonus would be any sight or soundof the two Kelly escapees.
How do I get them to do that? It seemed far more difficult now I had to execute the strategy I’d only thought about in the abstract.
They’ve set things up to bring you here so theymust have a plan. Go along with things as far asyou can. We’re guessing they’re going to try andseparate you from Sally and Simon.
And I let them?
I could tel Zed was uncomfortable with the answer.
They’ll be safer that way.
Don’t worry about me.
No can do.
We turned into the covered drop-off area for The Fortune Tel er casino hotel.
‘That’s what it’s cal ed!’ said Sal y, clicking her fingers. ‘I knew it was something to do with fairs.’
She smoothed her Matisse silk scarf over the jacket of her light wool suit. ‘Do I look OK, Sky?’
‘Very professional.’ I regretted that she was wasting her efforts on a criminal.
Simon always screamed ‘artist’ whatever he was wearing. Today he’d put on his favourite black denim jacket with his jeans—his version of a suit.
‘What an amazing place!’ he marvel ed as we strode through the foyer with its ranks of slot machines and waitresses in skimpy gypsy costumes. It was a maze—many of the shops sel ing cheap rubbish right next to designer label stores. ‘So absolutely tasteless, it is quite a work of art in itself.’
To our right, a klaxon sounded and coins began to pour from a machine into the lap of an ecstatic man in a shiny blue tracksuit. There was a momentary lul as the gamblers glanced over at the lucky winner, then business as usual.
‘I’d like to paint the faces,’ mused Sal y, eyeing a woman with an acutely desperate expression perched on a stool by her chosen fruit machine. ‘You can smel the hope and the hopelessness. The lack of natural light gives it an underworld feeling, doesn’t it; land of lost souls?’
Underworld? I was thinking Hel myself with the Kel ys as the ruling demons.
A bel boy led us to the bank of lifts. ‘Mrs Toscana wil see you in her office,’ he explained. ‘West Tower, third floor.’
The mirrored lift took us to the mezzanine level. A balcony overlooked the main floor of the casino, a variety of games under way from roulette to poker.
As it was mid afternoon, most people were casual y dressed and the atmosphere relaxed. I’d expected James Bond sophistication and got seaside amusements. The baize shone with the rich green of dubious promise, plastic chips which in truth represented mil ions of dol ars thickening the il usion that this was al just a harmless bit of fun. Our guide showed us to a double set of doors with ‘General Manager’ inscribed on a brass name plate. Once we were through, we left behind the garish fortune tel er flash of the hotel decor for quiet and refinement: an elegant white L-shaped sofa for visitors; fresh flowers on a low glass table; and a neatly dressed secretary who greeted us and showed us into the boss’s inner sanctum.
The first thing I noticed was the bank of screens showing activity in al parts of the hotel. There were close-ups of the card tables as wel as more general views of the public areas. Then I noticed Maria Kel y standing by the window looking out on to the hotel atrium, her hand outstretched. My hackles rose: she was poison and I didn’t want her anywhere near my parents.
‘Simon, Sal y, delighted to meet you in person after our phone cal s. And this must be Sky?’
Her smile was friendly, but her emotions told another story, flickering between cool blue calculation and a tinge of red violence. I hoped my face did not betray my revulsion at seeing her again.
I had to pretend I stil did not remember.
‘Yes, it is,’ said Simon. ‘Thanks for inviting us.’
She waved us to three chairs across the desk from hers. ‘I was hoping that this weekend would give you a chance to understand my hotels, what kind of clientele we cater for, and what artistic tastes they might have. I think you’l find our rooms range from the economy to the exclusive and our guests’
preferences are on as wide a scale.’
This job was bogus—I could see it in the yel ow lights now glowing around her. She was enjoying spinning the tale, like a cat playing with mice.
‘I’ve got a ful programme worked out for you and one of my assistant managers wil be dedicated to facilitating your visit. But that no doubt sounds very boring for your daughter.’
‘Sky’s happy to fit in with us,’ Sal y said. ‘She’l be no bother.’
‘No, no, that won’t be necessary. I thought she might prefer to find out what Vegas has to offer young people.’
Simon shifted in his seat. ‘Wel , now, Mrs Toscana, that’s real y kind of you, but you know what Sky’s been through recently; we don’t want to leave her on her own in an unfamiliar place.’
‘Natural y, I couldn’t agree more. That’s why I’ve asked my younger brother if he could spare the time to look after her. I’m sure he’l show her a good time.