“Well, here’s the deal. I had a brother-in-law named Sal. He was a vice cop with the Atlantic City police. I started dating his sister in highschool. After we got married, Sal talked me into joining the force. He was my best friend.
“One night, Sal called me. He was about to arrest four casino cheaters. Sal told me these cheaters were from New York, and had ripped off every casino in the city. Two Jews and two Italians.”
“Sort of like Johnson,” Karen said.
“Yeah, sort of like Johnson. Sal wanted me there as backup. I drove to the Boardwalk right as the arrest went down. They were all there. There was a full moon, and I saw Sal lying in the sand. I fired my gun in the air, and the cheaters ran. When I got to Sal, I saw he was shot. I held him in my arms, and he died.”
“Did you run after the cheaters?”
Valentine crushed the empty soda can in his hand. It made an angry sound, and the ward grew still. “No.”
“Why not?”
“I couldn’t leave him.”
“Was Bronco one of those cheaters?”
“Yeah. After Sal’s funeral, I made a vow to myself. I was going to run every one of them down, and put them in prison.” He picked up the second can of soda, and held it in front of Karen’s face. “I got all of them but Bronco. You want any of this?” She nodded, and he put the can to her lips. When he took the can away, he saw that the hostility had melted from her face, and decided it was now, or never.
“So, are you going to help me, or not?”
“Bo was playing craps in Reno when he met Bronco,” Karen said, her face lighting up whenever she mentioned her late husband’s name. “Actually, Bo wasn’t playing. He was, well, I’d guess you call it stealing.”
“Stealing how?”
“He’d discovered that people sometimes didn’t pick up their bets after the game was over, so he’d claim them if no one else did. Bo said it wasn’t really stealing, being that the house would take the money otherwise.”
It was stealing — the chips belonged to another player — but, there was no use in soiling Karen’s last memories, so Valentine kept his mouth shut.
“Bronco approached us, and made Bo an offer. Said if we’d claim a jackpot from a rigged slot machine, he’d split the money with us. Bo and I talked it over. We both carry a lot of credit card debt. I figured it was a way to start clean, you know?”
“Sure,” Valentine said.
“Later, when we split the money up, I found out that wasn’t really the deal. Bo had agreed to take less money. It made me mad, so I started yelling at him. Then Bronco said something nasty, and Bo jumped him. Then Bronco shot Bo.”
Her eyes returned to the parking lot. Valentine let a few moments pass before speaking again. “The night before, when you had dinner, what did Bronco talk about?”
“Scams.”
“Did he mention a Nevada gaming agent stealing jackpots?”
Karen thought about it. “Yeah. He said a gaming agent was using laptops to rig slot machines. I didn’t understand what he was talking about.”
“Did he mention the agent’s name?”
“Naw.”
“Did he tell you how the scam worked?”
“He said it was an insider thing, and that he couldn’t use it.”
It was the same thing Gerry had said. Score another one for his son.
“What else do you remember?” Valentine asked.
“Bronco said he had a meeting set up in a few days with a member of the Asian Triads. He was going to exchange the laptop scam for a Pai Gow scam.”
Valentine pulled his chair up closer to her bed. Cheaters didn’t tell you things unless they wanted something in return. There had been a reason why Bronco had told Karen and Bo about the Asian. “Did Bronco want you to get involved?”
Karen blew her cheeks out. “You’re real smart, aren’t you?”
“I know how these people think.”
“Bo was stationed in the Far East when he was in the army, and knew how to play Pai Gow. Bronco offered to stake Bo. Said we’d make a fortune with this scam.”
Valentine leaned against the bed’s iron railing. Pai Gow was played in many casinos in the United States. Each player received tiles shaped like dominos, and tried to beat the dealer’s score with the score on their tiles. It was a tough game to cheat, and he had a feeling this scam was something really good. He saw Karen studying him, the expression on her face almost wistful.
“What’s next?” she asked.
“I’ll tell the DA you cooperated, and gave me lots of valuable information.”
“Think he’ll cut me some slack?”
“Yes, Karen, I do.”
“I hope you’re right. Things haven’t been going so hot for me lately.”
She said it without bitterness, and a wave of sadness overcame him. Not a bad kid at all, he thought. He thanked her for her help, and put his chair back against the wall. He started to leave, then went back to her bed. “I’ll also tell the governor.”
“You trying to be funny?”
“No. I’m doing this job for him.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. I’ll ask him to go light on you.”
She thanked him with her eyes. Valentine had no idea what Bo Farmer was like, yet could imagine him wanting to spend the rest of his life with this young woman.
“Sorry about the gum,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it,” he told her.
Chapter 16
Bronco got a cell mate right after dinner. His name was Johnny Norton, and he was a dirty-haired street rat with dark shadows beneath his eyes. Johnny took the bottom bunk bed, said he’d been arrested for passing a couple of worthless checks. The catch in his voice said there was more to his story, and Bronco guessed he was hiding from something. Most guys in jail were.
Bronco was standing against the concrete wall opposite the bunk beds, sizing Johnny up. He was a degenerate, and probably used to getting kicked around. A loner, but also capable of seizing an opportunity when it came his way. He’ll do, Bronco thought.
Johnny had stopped pretending to be asleep, and stared at Bronco from his bunk, his eyes shining like a fox hiding inside a hole.
“What you looking at, buddy?”
“What the hell else is there to look at?” Bronco said.
“You got something on your mind?”
“Maybe. You been in this joint before?”
Johnny patted his pockets for a smoke. He snapped his fingers, remembering where he was. “Couple of times.”
“What for?”
“I scammed some old geezers.”
Robbing the elderly. That qualified Johnny for a low-life scum bag award. Bronco hunched down on his knees and looked Johnny in the eye.
“You know the layout?”
“I can find the front door. You thinking of taking a walk?”
Bronco nodded that he was. “I’ve figured out how to get out of the cellblock, and down the hall to the booking area, but from there I’m lost. Interested?”
Johnny drew his head back into the shadows, thinking it over. The truth was, Bronco didn’t need help escaping. His mind had made a picture of the jail when he’d been booked. He knew where the guards sat, the number of electronically controlled doors, and how many steps to the front door. He’d memorized the layout just like he memorized the pattern of every slot machine key he’d ever seen. His brain was good that way. It made pictures, then stored them.
But he couldn’t tell Johnny this. Johnny needed to think he was the lynchpin. That was the key to having partners; the partner needed to think they were in control. Otherwise, they wouldn’t get involved.
“What are you in for?” Johnny asked.
“First degree murder and ripping off a casino,” Bronco replied.