You think so?
Its like fly casting a fishing rod. Ever try that?
I fly-fished once on vacation, Valentine said. I caught the hook on my earlobe. Had to go to the emergency room at the hospital to have it removed.
Maybe you should stick with beating people up.
Thanks.
Rufus returned his pint to the suitcase, then consulted his wristwatch. It was an old silver dollar that had been turned into a timepiece. The coin needed polishing, but probably wouldnt see any in Rufuss lifetime.
Those hotel guards are mighty damn slow, he said.
Valentine shifted the icepack on his face. A five-minute response time in a Vegas hotel was normal. Although their casinos had state-of-the-art surveillance systems, they were largely ineffective when it came to crimes against guests. There were simply too many rooms.
Theyll show up eventually, he said. Since neither of us were killed, theyre not hurrying. Its how things work. Everything gets prioritized. Especially guests.
And since you and I arent whales, we get the pooch treatment.
Exactly.
Rufus removed his Stetson and patted down his hair like he was expecting company. He fitted his hat back on, and looked Valentine in the eye.
Id hate this crummy town if I didnt like to gamble so much, Rufus said.
In the bathroom, Valentine changed shirts, downed four ibuprofens, then appraised his profile in the mirror. Hed gotten his nose broken twice as a cop, plus a couple times in judo competition, yet it had never flattened. Good genes, he guessed. He returned to the suite, sat on the couch with Rufus.
Come straight with me about something, Rufus said.
Sure.
When that guy was threatening me with the pipe, you thought I was selling you out, didnt you?
Valentine considered denying it, then decided not to lie. Afraid I did.
Sorry. It was the only ruse I could think of.
There was a commotion in the hallway. Four uniformed cops entered the suite, followed by Pete Longo, chief detective with the Metro Las Vegas Police Departments Homicide Division. As Valentine rose from the couch, the cops drew their weapons.
Stay seated, a cop ordered him.
Valentine dropped back into his seat.
Where are your guns? the cop asked.
We dont have any, Valentine said.
The cops searched the suite anyway. Valentine glanced at Longo, whom hed known for many years. Longo had recently lost a lot of weight, but hadnt changed his wardrobe. His rumpled suit swam on his body.
Cant you help us, Pete? Valentine asked.
Longo shot him a skeptical look. You dont have any firearms in the suite?
Theres a bullwhip lying beneath the couch, but thats it.
The cops finished their search. The one whod been doing the talking approached the couch and said, You better be telling the truth.
Aint no reason to lie, Rufus replied.
Come with me, Longo said. I want to show you something.
Valentine and Rufus followed Longo out the door, happy to be away from the uniforms. They took an elevator to the lobby, which was swarming with more cops, some in uniform, some plainclothes. Yellow police tape cordoned off an area around a door with an emergency
exit sign above it. Longo lifted up the police tape and they walked beneath it. The detective pointed to a door propped open with a metal chair.
Take a look, Longo said.
Rufus went first, and came away shaking his head. Then Valentine stuck his head in. The light inside the stairwell was muted, and he let his eyes adjust. When they did, he saw their two attackers lying at the bottom. Their faces looked eerily peaceful, save for the bullet holes in their foreheads.
Recognize them? Longo asked, now behind him.
Those are the guys who just attacked us in our room, Valentine said.
Did Rufus Steele shoot them?
No.
Did you shoot them?
No.
Id like to do a paraffin test for gunshot residue.
Be my guest.
I also want to talk to your son. Last time I checked, he had a grudge against some mobsters in town. Maybe this was his way of paying them back.
Gerry isnt in Las Vegas, Valentine said. I put him on a plane to Philadelphia four hours ago.
Why did you do that? the detective asked.
He almost told Longo it was none of his business, then reminded himself he was a suspect in a double homicide and everything was Longos business. The World Poker Showdown is being scammed, and nobody knows how. The secret is in a hospital in Atlantic City.
And you sent your son there to figure it out.
Thats right.
Longos face was stoic. He doesnt believe me, Valentine thought. Gerrys stay in Vegas had been rough, and Valentine didnt want his son getting dragged back here.
If you dont believe me, call him, Valentine said.
Longo dug his cell phone from his pocket.
Give me your sons number, the detective said.
5
Stepping off the Delta 767 at Philadelphia Airport, Gerry Valentine spotted an undercover detective standing in the terminal. The detective was a handsome guy, black, six one, athletic, and pushing forty. What blew his cover were his cheap threads. That was where most detectives disguising themselves screwed up. They dressed like schleps.