“I’ll be damned,” Bowlegs said.
The game progressed, with the dealer dealing rounds of faceup cards to the players, with betting going on between rounds. When the fifth and sixth rounds were dealt, the dealer again dealt a pair kings off the bottom to the player on his right.
Bowlegs whistled through his teeth. “That pays a bonus.”
“What pays a bonus?” Mabel asked.
“Four kings. The casino pays a ten thousand dollar bonus to any player that gets four of a kind.”
Mabel drew back in her chair. Tony had always told her the bigger the crime, the bigger the crook. “So that’s the scam,” she said aloud.
Bowlegs rose from his chair. Mabel took the opportunity to take a hard look at him. He did indeed have bowed legs.
“I want him pulled off the floor andarrested,” Bowlegs said. “Agreed?”
Mabel interrupted him. “But we still don’t know what’s going on.”
“We don’t?”
“No. Remember the last time you caught him? When you interviewed the player he was helping, he proved to be innocent. My guess is, the man who just got the four kings is also innocent. That appears to be your crooked dealer’s MO.”
“His what?”
“Modus operandi. He deals winning hands to strangers.”
Bowlegs look flustered. “Why would he do that?”
“I don’t have any early idea. Lets watch him, and find out,” Mabel said.
Bowlegs parked himself in his chair and resumed looking at the monitor. Out of the corner of her eye, Mabel caught Running Bear smiling at her. The chief seemed to be enjoying himself, and she gave him a wink.
Chapter 38
Valentine’s heart was racing. He wasn’t sure what was causing it; nearly being run over, or the spectacle his son was creating. Gerry had hopped back in the Escalade he’d used to save his father’s life, and was trying to chase Bronco. There was only one problem. The car’s owner, a muscular black guy, wanted his vehicle back. Valentine made Gerry get out of the car.
“But Bronco’s getting away,” his son protested.
“He already got away. Let the police run him down.”
“But…”
“This isn’t a rodeo, Gerry.”
“Meaning what?”
“We’re not cowboys. Let it go.” To the owner of the Escalade, he said, “Thanks a lot, buddy. Your car saved my life.”
The car’s owner nodded. “No problem, man.”
Valentine and his son entered the Peppermill. Impoco was in the lobby, talking to the police on his cell phone. Holding the valet slip of the getaway car, he read the license to the police operator. Finished, he hung up, and spoke to Valentine.
“You okay?”
“Never better.”
They followed Impoco into the casino. They went straight to the slot machine which Rebecca Klinghoffer had beaten, and watched a team of casino employees open the machine up, and test every conceivable bell and whistle that the machine had. Impoco went upstairs to the surveillance control room, got his laptop, and returned as the employees were finishing up. He plugged the laptop into the machine, and ran another diagnostic test. Thousands of numbers flashed by in the blink of an eye. When the test was done, Impoco stared at the laptop’s screen, then let out an exasperated breath.
“Damn it.”
“Let me guess,” Valentine said. “The machine is showing nothing wrong.”
“That’s right.”
Taking out his wallet, Impoco went to the cage on the other side of the casino. He exchanged ten bucks for a roll of quarters. Coming back, he sat down in the chair that Rebecca Klinghoffer had occupied. To Valentine he said, “If I remember correctly, she played the machine three times before winning the jackpot. The first time it was with three coins, the second time, two coins, and the third time, one coin. That sound right to you?”
Valentine thought about it. “Yeah, that’s right.”
Impoco repeated what Rebecca Klinghoffer had done. After losing his money three times, he put in five quarters — the maximum bet — and pulled the handle. The reels spun and the machine made lots of ridiculous noise. When the reels stopped, two cherries and two lemons were staring him in the face. A loser.
“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re terrible at this?” Drew Carey’s voice asked.
“How can you eat at a time like this?” Gerry asked.
Valentine had gone into the Peppermill’s coffee shop with his son. Once seated, they were brought a bowl of fresh fruit. The Peppermill had started out as a coffee shop that served enormous servings of fruit with every meal. Somehow, that had been parlayed into the largest hotel and casino in Reno. Valentine bit into a peach.
“I’m serious,” Gerry cajoled him.
“I eat because I’m working, and working makes me hungry,” Valentine said, taking another bite. “Remember, no matter how big a job is, it’s never more important than eating, or thinking about your family, or anything like that. A job is just a job. It’s the rest of the stuff in your life that’s important. Understand?”
His son dipped his chin. “I guess.”
“Speaking of which, have you talked to your wife lately?”
Gerry shook his head. “No. I left her a couple of voice messages.”
“Not the same thing. Call her.”
Gerry called Yolanda on his cell phone, and his wife proceeded to talk his ear off. Gerry pulled the cell phone away from his ear, and handed it to his father.
“Pop, you need to hear this.”
Valentine put his peach down and the phone to his ear. He listened to Yolanda describe a message she’d gotten from Mabel. His neighbor was at the Micanopy casino in Tampa, trying to help Chief Running Bear catch a crooked poker dealer. Valentine felt the blood drain from his head. Sensing his father’s discomfort, Gerry took the phone and put it to his mouth.
“I’ll call you back,” he said.
“I thought you said Running Bear was a square guy,” Gerry said after hanging up.
“He is,” his father said.
“So, why the long face? You afraid he’ll put the moves on Mabel?”
His father give him a look that made Gerry feel like he was twelve years old. A long, excruciating moment passed. Realizing his father wasn’t going to give him an answer anytime soon, Gerry racked his brain.
“You’re afraid of something happening to Mabel,” his son said.
His father ate his peach mechanically. Gerry thought some more.
“The Micanopys are all related, and you think that someone might tip this crooked dealer off, and one of his buddies will come after Mabel, just like they came after you that time down in south Florida, and stuck the alligator in your car.”
His father stared at him with simmering eyes. “ Mighttip him off?”
“Come on, Pop. You can’t predict the future.”
“Sure I can.”
“How?”
His father tapped his skull with his finger. “Remember what I told you about the Micanopys? They employ lots of dealers who have criminal records; so do many of the Indian casinos. Hell, some even have ex-cons sitting on their boards. They can’t avoid it, because so many of them get in trouble when they’re young. It sounds like a noble thing for the tribes to be doing, but the fact is, many of these are bad guys.”
“You think this dealer who Mabel’s caught is bad?”
Gerry thought his father was going to hit him. He’d never done that, even as a kid when he’d raised hell, and Gerry had figured it was because his grandfather had whacked his father around pretty good when hewas a kid. But that didn’t mean it hadn’t crossed his father’s mind.
“He’s a god damn thief,” his father said. “ If he catches wind that he’s facing arrest, he’ll do everything he can to keep Mabel from testifying against him.”
“You mean, like hurting her?” Gerry said.