Youre sure this cant wait?
George Scalzo sent those hitmen last night.
Who told you that?
The FBI are wiretapping Scalzos phones and over heard him putting out the contract. He did it in code, though, so they cant arrest him.
The FBI ran a special operation in Las Vegas that did nothing but try to prevent contract killings. Murder-for-hire was prevalent in Sin City, and the bureau paid snitches to keep their ears to the ground to hear when a contract came up.
Scalzo doesnt give up easily, Bill went on. Mark my words, hes going to hire someone else to kill you.
Valentines eyes had shut as his head sunk deeper into his pillow. Thirty more minutes of blessed sleep was all he wanted. Ill change rooms and grow a moustache.
Tony, I want to discuss this with you, Bill said, growing agitated. Its my responsibility to make sure nothing happens to you while youre in Las Vegas. I hired you for this job, remember?
His eyes remained shut. Thirty years ago, having two guys try to kill him would have resulted in a sleepless night. Hed had a wife and a kid and a
mortgage to worry about. But time had changed his situation: his wife was dead, the house sold, and Gerry a grown man. Being threatened didnt have the same consequences anymore.
I get it. This is one of those cover-your-ass phone calls.
Eight-fifteen in front of your hotel, Bill said. Be there.
Bills shining Volvo C70 convertible was parked by the entrance when Valentine stepped through the hotels front doors thirty minutes later. Bill had driven Volvos well before theyd become fashionable, claiming that Swedish engineering and Native American sensibilities shared a lot in common. He sat behind the wheel, his protruding chin marred by random specks of gray. Valentine climbed in and they sped away.
The Volvo raced across the flat, sun-baked desert, the engine starting to breathe around ninety. Valentine tilted his seat back and stared at the endless highway ahead. Years ago, hed considered retiring out west with his wife, having often heard it referred to as Gods country. Seeing it unfold in this morning light, he understood why.
Fifteen minutes later, they sat in the parking lot of a roadside gas station that sold hot coffee and fresh doughnuts. The woman behind the counter had made them out as law enforcement, and given them freebies. It made their day.
Listen, Ive got some bad news, Bill said.
Valentine stared into his friends face while biting his doughnut. Bill was a Navajo, and kept his emotions well below the surface. I hate to start the day with bad news. Tell me something funny first.
Why does it have to be funny?
Because youre about to give me bad news. Id like a good laugh first.
Bill scrunched up his face. Okay. Heres a joke I heard. How do you get an eighty-year-old woman to say Shit!
Valentine should know this one. He lived in Florida.
I dont have a clue.
Get another eighty-year-old woman to yell Bingo!
He laughed. Definitely a Floridian joke. He washed down his last bite of doughnut with a gulp of coffee. It hit his stomach like a bomb, and he felt himself wake up. Okay, Im ready for your bad news.
I know this is going to sound harsh, but Im taking you off the case, Bill said.
Youre firing me?
Yes, Bill said.
Valentine didnt know what to say. He stared out the windshield at the big, cloudless Nevada sky. Bill started the engine and pulled onto the highway, pointing the Volvo back toward town. A long minute passed.
Its like this, Tony, his friend said. Yesterday, I was given twenty-four hours by the governor of Nevada to produce hard evidence that there was cheating taking place at the World Poker Showdown. If I couldnt prove there was cheating, I was told in no uncertain terms to leave the tournament alone. That also meant letting you go.
The governor told you to end the investigation?
Thats right, Bill said.
Is he being pressured?
Yes. The World Poker Showdown is helping every casino in town get business.
So the casino owners asked the governor to squash the investigation.
Bingo.
Shit. Valentines eyes shifted to the ruler-straight highway. It resembled a tunnel, the desert scenery compressed. If he left Las Vegas, George Scalzo won, and Valentine wasnt going to let that happen. He had never run away from a fight in his life.
What if you could prove there was cheating at the tournament? Would the governor let the investigation continue?
Hed have to, Bill said.
Would you keep me on the job?
Of course Id keep you on the job.
From his jacket pocket Valentine removed the Silly Putty and paper clip hed discovered in Celebritys poker room the night before. Sticking the Silly Putty on the dashboard, he plunged the paper clip into it like a flag.
I didnt know you were into toy figures, Bill said.
They help pass the time, Valentine said. Guess what this one is.
Bill stared at the dashboard. A bug?
Thats right. Rufus Steele found it stuck beneath a table in Celebritys poker room last night. Theres a mucker scamming the tournament.