“You think so, huh? I’ll tell you something,” Jackie said. “There’re three things I attribute to what’s made me a success in life. One, I don’t worry about anything happened in the past I can’t change. Two, I don’t hold a grudge. Revenge is for losers, guys that got nothing else to do. And three, most important of all, I watch my ass so nothing unexpected comes up behind me. And the closer I watch it, my friend, the luckier I get.”
DeLeon said, “Shit,” with a grin. Which Jackie took to mean appreciation, until DeLeon said, “Was this gentleman here saved your ass.”
Jackie said, “Oh, is that right? This gentleman, all I’ve seen this gentleman do is come in here, stumble around and almost knock over the whole shithouse. If that’s called saving my ass…”
The Miami cop was looking at his watch.
“I don’t want to hold you up,” Jackie said, “you have to be somewhere.”
“Pretty soon. I want to tell you,” Vincent said, “you have a point. I went after the wrong guys and it could’ve got you in a lot of trouble… from what I understand of how things work here. I mean if it ever came out in testimony you’ve been operating outside the casino. Like for that Colombian gent. Also your associations with Frank Cingoro and the wise guys. But so far it’s turned out in your favor. Good, you might say, has come of it. Frank’s dead and Ricky should get twenty-five years… unless he cops and makes a deal, tells ’em things they’d like to hear. So what my stumbling around did, when you look at it, get all the facts, was put you in the clear. Not all the way, but you won’t be getting it from both sides now. That ought to be worth something to you.”
Jackie said to DeLeon. “You hear this guy?”
“Man saying you owe him something.”
Jackie looked at Vincent again. What would a thirty-grand-a-year cop go for? Cop on the take who comes here, wants to be treated like a high roller? “What would you like, a six-foot showgirl? Or how ’bout a broad with hair under her arms and a mustache? More like what you’re used to. Name it, my friend.”
“All I’d like you to do,” Vincent said, “is fly three of us down to San Juan in the company plane. Maybe four, but no more than that. You won’t have to serve us lunch or anything. Couple of drinks, that’s all. How’s that sound?”
Jackie said to DeLeon, “You hear this guy?”
“Ask him what happens you don’t do it.”
“You think I should?”
“Might be interesting.”
“Don’t think of it as what happens if you don’t,” Vincent said. “Be positive. Think of it as insurance. You’ll be doing it so nobody’ll testify against you before the Control Commission. Tell about all the deals you’ve been into and you lose your license. Yeah, what it is, it’s license insurance.”
“Wait,” Jackie said. He touched his ear. “Hum it for me again, that’s a familiar tune. I think it’s the same one you played yesterday. Yeah. What’s changed? You’re still trying to shake me down, for Christ sake. I knew you were on the fucking take the minute you walked in. You still are.”
“No, it’s different now,” Vincent said. “I got a witness that can put the stuff all over you.”
“This should be interesting,” Jackie said, “Who?”
“Him,” Vincent said, hooking a thumb toward DeLeon on the sofa. “Now get the plane gassed up.”
He had to watch Jackie switch roles, from tough guy to tragic figure, the little casino manager sinking into his high-backed chair, lost, staring with a pained expression at DeLeon.
“No, not the Moose, I don’t believe it. You’re not gonna tell me after all we been through, these many years, you’d all of a sudden betray me.”
DeLeon said, “Betray you?”
“That’s what he said. I heard him,” Vincent said, looking at Jackie behind his big desk, not as entertaining in his new role. Vincent said to him, “We’re using leverage on you, Jackie, that’s all. You’re sitting in a spot where you don’t want to make a lot of noise. You want things to quietly pass over. So what you do, you call the airport and make arrangements. Okay? Think of your secrets of success. You don’t worry about anything you can’t change or waste time thinking about getting even. Those are good ones. As for watching your ass, well, so you missed one. You’re still lucky.”
“Him,” Jackie said, extending his arm to point at DeLeon, showing them a gold cuff link. “My betrayer.”
“Man likes that word,” DeLeon said.
Vincent said to Jackie, “Look, you don’t want to think ill of DeLeon, okay, I’ll use Ricky. I can arrange for Ricky to tell stories about you thinking he’s gonna get a plea deal. Which he won’t, but the cops would find out about you and they’d tell Gaming Enforcement-you know how cops are, like to help each other-and there you are. So what’s the difference? We’re talking about leverage.”
“Prick,” Jackie said.
“He’s feeling better,” Vincent said to DeLeon. Then turned to Jackie again. “But what this is all about, what you tend to lose sight of because of your personal problems, is Iris. You remember Iris?”
“I never made her do a thing she didn’t want to,” Jackie said. “She knew exactly what the deal was.”
“All I asked was, do you remember Iris?”
Jackie paused. “Yeah, I remember her. So? What do you want me to say?”
Vincent thought about it, looking at Jackie behind his executive desk; Jackie, if he was thinking about her at all, remembering some little broad who’d worked for him at one time.
“Maybe you better not say anything,” Vincent said.
A quarter to twelve Vincent came away from the cashier’s window with the twelve thousand dollars in the blue canvas bag. Somebody’s twelve thousand; he was still reasoning his right to it. If he couldn’t return it to Ricky and if he felt no obligation to give it to the State of New Jersey, who was left? He had never pocketed a dime of confiscated money or accepted a bribe in his life. When he had lunch at Wolfie’s on Collins Avenue he went along with them charging him only half price. But he tipped on the full amount. He was an honest cop and this was a unique situation. He could tell himself he was using the twelve grand in the line of duty, sort of.
From the casino, Vincent cut through the lounge toward the lobby. He noticed Tommy Donovan behind the bar talking to the barman. It caused Vincent to hesitate. He thought, why not? And walked over to the bar to stand a couple of stools away. Tommy was talking very intently about something. The barman saw Vincent, but didn’t want to interrupt his boss. Finally he said something and Tommy turned as the barman came over.
“A draft,” Vincent said.
Now Tommy stepped over extending his hand. “Tommy Donovan. How are you this morning?”
“Not too bad,” Vincent said.
“I was just saying to Eddie, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a blue mixed drink. Have you?”
“I don’t think so,” Vincent said. “I don’t think I’d want to either. Drinks should be sort of a gold color. Amber. Some are no color at all, they’re okay. But I prefer the amber ones.”
“You’re my kind a guy,” Tommy said. “What’ll you have? It’s on the house.”
The barman placed the beer in front of him. “This’s fine,” Vincent said. “I never drink hard stuff till the evening or I’m finished work.”
“I don’t either,” Tommy said. “I think I’ll have one with you.” He looked at the barman who moved off to draw another. “You have to be careful, especially mixing business with pleasure here. On the one hand I have to socialize. On the other I have to know what’s going on. You understand my position.”
Vincent said, “Are you the Tommy Donovan?”
“Well, I’m the only one around here, anyway.”
“You own the place.”
“I work at it.”
“Behind the bar?”
“I know what’s going on in every area of this operation. To me, the bar is as important as the casino. I don’t want to see any skimping on drinks or indifference to patrons. Eddie here”-the barman placed a draft beer in front of Tommy-“we were just discussing different kinds of drinks, seeing if we could come up with a new one, something unusual.”