I don’t think my mouth dropped physically, but it sure did mentally.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Your company said they were going to replace the south camera, but it’s still not working.”
“The south camera? I’ll check on that for you.” I pulled out her card. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Okay!” She strode off, her ponytail swinging.
South camera?
I looked around the walls and finally found a camera swiveling to watch the crowds. On the bottom of it was the label, “Kendall Security Agency.”
I sat down in the nearest chair.
Coincidence?
I didn’t think so.
I thought back to the way Doug had introduced me to them and that I was setting up a security system for a proposed wild animal park. News to me, but I thought that was supposed to be part of my cover.
Neither of them had even blinked.
They thought I was Kendall of Kendall Security Systems.
But I wasn’t.
I put that thought aside and thought about what Doug had really hired me for. The attempt was supposed to be made sometime during the July Fourth parade with fireworks, when the hotel’s security staff was watching out for pickpockets, room thieves and all the other arts of war that go on in a hotel. Especially a Las Vegas hotel. Doug had hired extra security, but there’s only so much that can be done. Doug couldn’t change the place into an armed camp. And even that might not work. Not many people knew about the proposed crime. I had learned about it from a guy I caught trying to burglarize one of my clients. Before I handed him over to LAPD, he tried to trade the information for a lighter charge. Told him I’d think about it, got on the horn to Doug and gave him the info. Silence on the other end of the line for a bit. Then he asked me to come over, look around and do what I could do. I went back to my guy in lockup and told him I needed more information. Too sketchy, he could have made it up. I let him think I was on his side, believed him, and that I was doing a little horsetrading with the D.A.’s office on his behalf. But that was all he had. Nada else. He’d given me his whole wad. I wanted to get him out so he could get more information for me. Especially the ‘how.’ Armed robbery, bail and transient are not used together positively in one legal sentence. So that option was out. I had to go with what I had, hoping he could pick up something else in jail which wasn’t an option I expected to be able to take to the bank.
I knew the target and the timing and that was it.
I went back to the den but all I saw was one of the workers hosing down the cement rocks. I knew what he was sluicing off. Then he hopped down into the drained pool and scrub brushed the sides and bottom.
Yuk.
A plan formed in my mind.
I turned away and looked at the small furry tigers in the shop’s window. But I could see the guy’s reflection. Thin, maybe 5’4”, no bulging muscles there. Bet he wasn’t thinking warm fuzzy thoughts about the tigers, as I’d bet that Melissa did all the time, no matter what the work involved. Just like any mother.
He glanced up occasionally. Pigeon shit from pigeons flying en masse around the opening. He was probably saying, “Thanks a lot, guys.” But he had enough sense not to keep facing up too long.
I made another note. “List / employees / access.”
Then I started thinking about the ‘why.’ Money was up there. Always tops the list of motives. But other reasons came to mind. A collector who wants rare things? A publicity stunt? I went through the other motives like the seven deadly sins, greed, revenge, envy. A sloth was not being stolen here. I gave up. Having met so many nutsoes in my days, most of the time their motives made no sense to me.
Time to rendezvous with my dental hygienist and see if I could get some lunch stuck in my teeth. Maybe she’d cut class and do some flossing. Up in our room.
Telephoning, not anything else, was what Marge had in mind. Under her eyes, I called my daughter. Marge stood there while I did it. No pretending I was talking to someone else. Pregnant at sixteen, my daughter had dropped out of school, moved in with the lowlife who’d had a string of petty theft convictions. Maybe that’s how he thought he was going to support his new family. At least she didn’t marry him. Nor did she have the child. She aborted both the baby and the lowlife. And her family.
I had changed her diapers, stayed up with her when she was sick, helped her take her first steps. Couldn’t believe the daughter I raised would do all those things. And at sixteen. When I was her age-Enough of that.
Got bits and pieces of news about her but never from her. She got on a work-study program that the Alhambra Soroptimist Club, a women’s club next to Los Angeles that helps young girls, sponsored and she straightened out. Got a full-time job and kept getting promoted until she worked some mucky muck here in Las Vegas. Bought a house. Bought a nice car. Lived well. Worked hard. So I heard.
Guess those are all the things you could say about me. Yeah, I worked a lot. Loved the job, took all the overtime I could get.That bought us a nice house, nice things. Okay, so I didn’t take many vacations with them, but made sure they went someplace nice.
Know her mother was in touch with her through the years, nothing regular but enough to know she was on the straight and narrow. Somehow I was the villain in all this. Can’t say I didn’t speak my piece in the beginning. Didn’t back down too much. Hell, I was a cop, thought like a cop and still do. That’s who I am and I can’t change.
Couldn’t understand what she had done and why, and why she just didn’t come home again. We had the money to pay for college. She came to see her mother in the hospital near the end when I wasn’t there.
Gotta say I was there a lot. Found out about her visit from the nurse, not from Lois. Then after Lois died… well, I’d probably do and say the same thing all over again. So there I was, sweating like a pig, when she came on the line.
Marge had given me some suggestions to get the conversation going. Yeah, I’m real good at those kinds of conversations, just like working the room-not me!
Marge stood there, hands on her hips, making sure we were actually talking.
Talking. I was talking to a stranger, and then suddenly I wasn’t. She was my pre-sixteen year old, chatting away, like she’d be home from school soon. I had to get the old handkerchief out. I think I heard Marge laughing when she left.
There’d be three of us for dinner tonight at Tillerman’s. She said. She’d call them to make a reservation. She knew the manager at the Mirage, would have them put us in a suite, stuff on the cuff. Had to whoa her down as soon as I got my jaw back up where it should be enough to talk. I told her we were already getting the room free since I was working for the Mirage on a case. I didn’t go into details.
After I hung up, I realized she must know other people, might have an insight into why the white tigers might be stolen. Suddenly having dinner with a veritable stranger didn’t look too bleak. Old man, I thought, you’re always a cop, working, now you’re going to pump your own long-lost daughter for information.
The young woman who walked into Tillerman’s lounge was my mother. Not that I knew her at twenty-five but I’d seen the wedding pictures. She was so beautiful. No, gorgeous. For a minute my heart stopped, Chivas halfway to my mouth, eyes popping.
The scene played in slow motion on my mental computer, now on overload. Jeannine. No longer a flat-chested, pimply teen-ager. Oh, no. Saw two guys at the table near the doorway stop and stare.
Glad Marge was there with me, otherwise I wouldn’t have known what to do.
Hey, give me a murder scene and I can handle that. Hate these family things, emotional things.
Jeannine floated over, the guys behind her watching, wondering when they could make a move on her.