Take Down (28 page)

FIFTY-ONE

In Billy’s opinion, Vegas hotels served the best food around. Take the late-morning room-service breakfast he was eating in his suite. A mouth-watering frittata made from organic cage-free eggs, grilled chicken, roasted tomatoes, and a slice of sourdough toast on the side. Growing up, he’d never dreamed a meal could taste this good.

His Droid beeped. Travis had sent him a text. The counterfeit gold chips were done and had passed muster. The last cheat to take down Vegas with fake chips had been another Providence native, Lou “The Coin” Colavecchio, and that was over twenty years ago. Billy sent Travis a reply and told him to bring the crew to the hotel for a meeting, then resumed eating his breakfast.

Ike and T-Bird sat across from him, battling their hangovers with coffee.

“What are you smiling about?” Ike asked.

“That was my guy. The fake chips are ready,” he said.

“You still haven’t told us how this scam’s going to work,” Ike said, holding his mug with both hands. “It would be nice to know, considering we’re a part of it.”

“Yeah, let’s hear the details,” T-Bird chimed in.

The time for secrecy was over. Clearing the table, he took a pair of salt and pepper shakers and placed them on the table’s edge. On the left side of the table, he placed a sugar bowl; on the right side, the purple zinnia in a small vase that had come with his meal.

“This table represents the casino, and these salt and pepper shakers are you guys,” he said. “The sugar bowl is the blackjack pit. The flower is the cage. With me so far?”

“Which one of us is the salt?” T-Bird wanted to know.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ike said.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. At three forty-five, the Gypsy wedding will take place inside the chapel. The ceremony will last fifteen minutes. When it’s over, the Gypsies will walk down the hall through the lobby and enter the casino.” He walked two fingers across the table, stopping at the sugar bowl. “Upon reaching the blackjack pit, they’ll stop to have their picture taken. This distraction will allow them to perform a little act called the Dazzle. The Dazzle is designed to fool security into not seeing that a member of the wedding party is gone.”

“One of them’s going to disappear?” Ike asked.

“It will seem that way. The invisible member will remove a dealing shoe hidden inside the bride’s gown and switch it for a shoe on a high-limit table. At that moment, I’ll alert security, and they’ll pounce and expose the scam. That’s when you rob the cage.”

“How we going to do that?” T-Bird asked.

He pushed the salt and pepper shakers toward the single flower. “At four o’clock, Ike will call the cage and tell the cage manager that Rock is ready to cash out. A few minutes later, you guys will appear. T-Bird will have two lovely ladies with him who work for me. He’ll pass the fake chips to the cage manager and get the money orders in return. You’ll leave through the hotel’s back exit with my crew. We’ll chop up the money later.”

“But I don’t look nothing like Rock,” T-Bird protested. “The cage manager’s gonna notice and sound the alarm.”

“No, he won’t. According to a blackjack dealer named Jazzy I spoke with, the Saturday employees are starting their workweek. Since this is Rock’s first visit to the hotel, it’s a lock the Saturday employees have never seen him. They don’t know who Rock is.”

“So how’s the cage manager going to know?” T-Bird asked.

“He’ll have to take Ike’s word for it,” Billy said.

“So I gotta be convincing when I call the cage,” Ike said.

“That’s right. You have to sell the cage manager that T-Bird is Rock.”

“I can do that,” Ike said.

T-Bird didn’t look comfortable with the explanation.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll have my girls put you in disguise,” he said. “They can shave your head and tie a pillow around your belly. By the time they’re done with you, you’ll pass as Rock’s twin brother.”

The bird man mulled it over. “Well, all right. Sure hate losing my dreads.”

“So grow them back. One more thing. Two members of my crew will be stationed by the cage. If an employee happens by, they’ll turn him. Any questions?”

“I’m good,” T-Bird said.

“What about the Gypsies?” Ike said.

“What about them?”

“You know how Doucette is about cheaters. You gonna let him kill them?”

“Why do you care what happens to the Gypsies?”

“I don’t care. I just wondered if you were gonna let him.”

He’d been avoiding the question for days, believing that when the time came, he’d come up with a clever way to save the Gypsies from getting their brains bashed in. The time was now, and he balled up his napkin and tossed it onto his plate.

“Let me think about it,” he said, and went outside to the balcony.

He hung on the railing, racking his brains. How was he going to stop the Gypsies from getting hurt without getting himself hurt in the process? No good solution came to mind.

The Strip was jumping: tourists, peddlers, hookers, and plenty of nut jobs. He was looking at one right now, standing in the crosswalk of Sahara wearing bright blue underwear and a Superman cape with a screaming gold
S
stitched crookedly on the back. Nutso flapped his arms, as if preparing for liftoff. Traffic ground to a halt. Horns blared.

A swarm of uniformed cops appeared in the crosswalk. The cops pinned the would-be Man of Steel’s skinny arms behind his back, slapped on the cuffs, did a thorough frisk, and led their man to a cruiser parked by the curb, where they shoved him into the back. The cruiser sped away with ruby-sapphire lights flashing, the crown jewels of trouble.

As busts went, it was as pretty as a ballet. Vegas had one of the largest forces of street cops in the world, over two thousand strong. The largest concentration was deployed around the convention center and the Strip, where the tourists were. Using bike patrols, motorcycle units, and cruisers, they did a good job of keeping things safe. Dozens of cops were right outside Galaxy’s front doors every day. Just a simple call to 911 and they’d appear.

That was it. He’d call the cops and tell the operator a psycho was inside Galaxy’s casino, shooting up the place. The cops would appear and save the Gypsies from getting hurt. If the Gypsies handled themselves right, they might even be able to sue Galaxy for damages.

It was all good, but it wasn’t good enough. By ratting out the Gypsies, he was breaking the code never to hurt another cheat. That required making things right with them. Perhaps he’d hear about a casino with a flawed security system and pass the information to them. Or, he’d let them know where Ricky was buried so they could retrieve the body and give the kid a proper send-off. Whatever he did, it needed to be significant enough to erase the harm he’d caused. He went back inside. Ike and T-Bird were still sucking down coffee.

“That was fast,” Ike said.

“Compared to you, anything’s fast,” T-Bird said.

“Shut up,” Ike said.

The sound of the door being unlocked snapped their heads. Even to a casual observer, the unusual layout on the table would arouse suspicion and lead to questions Billy did not wish to answer. With a sweep of his arm, he sent the salt and pepper shakers, sugar bowl, and flower vase to the floor, where he swept them under the couch with his foot. Evidence gone.

Shaz entered wearing a white pantsuit and a string of white pearls. To keep the color theme correct, her eyes were dilating, and she appeared to be riding the white pony.

“Reverend Rock requests the presence of your company,” she said, making it sound like a death sentence. “Get moving.”

FIFTY-TWO

As Billy followed Shaz to the pool area, a group of bikini-clad young things strolled past. Weekends were his favorite time in Vegas. On Friday nights, cars with California plates pulled into the hotels, and throngs of girls climbed out clutching overnight bags and pillows. These girls often stayed five to a room, sleeping on floors and sharing food they brought from home. The casinos were cool with it because they drew men the way honey draws bears.

Shaz pulled out her cell phone and stopped by the pool. It was a replica of the magnificent pool at the Beverly Hills Hotel, with pink cabanas and striped lounge chairs.

“I’ve got Cunningham with me—where are you?” she said into her phone. “You’re having lunch? We’ll be right in.” She turned to him. “Rock has some business to discuss with you.”

“What kind of business?” he asked.

“Our business.”

The café had a checkerboard tile floor and metal tables and catered to the pool crowd. A hostess escorted them to a doorway with a velvet rope stretched across it. The rope came down, and the hostess led them into a second dining room, where Rock sat at a corner table, eating lunch. The drug kingpin wore ridiculously small bathing trunks and could have passed as a chocolate Buddha. His bodyguards wore bikini bottoms and T-shirts with long sleeves to hide the knives they kept strapped to their forearms.

“Leave,” Rock said to the hostess. To Ike and T-Bird he said, “Stand in the corner.”

The punishers moved away from the table, and the hostess disappeared.

“You two pull up a chair,” Rock said.

Billy and Shaz made themselves comfortable. Rock resumed eating an artery-clogging double-bacon cheeseburger. When it was gone, he picked at a mountain of french fries covered in ketchup. The conversation would not begin until he was ready for it to begin. Back home, Billy had known drug dealers who’d drag a subject into a bathroom stall and make him watch while they crapped. It was a form of intimidation, designed to remind you who was boss.

“I hear you killed a woman last night,” the drug kingpin said. “That your first time?”

Billy realized he was being tested and grew rigid in his chair.

“Yeah,” he said.

“How did it make you feel?”

He shrugged, not sure what to say.

“Answer me.”

“I was numb, but then it wore off,” he said.

“What did you do after you buried her?”

“Had dinner.”

“You were hungry?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not bullshitting me, are you?”

“No. We were hungry, so we went out for a late dinner.”

Rock gave him a cold stare. “Which restaurant?”

“We went to a Brazilian steakhouse called Fogo de Chão on East Flamingo. You should try it sometime. The steaks are great.”

“You don’t say.” Rock addressed the punishers. “Is pretty boy telling the truth?”

“Uh-huh. Best steaks in town,” Ike said.

“Don’t fuck with me, asshole. Did you eat there last night?”

“Yes, suh,” Ike said.

Rock crossed his hands over his enormous belly and belched. “I once had a guy working for me went by the name Freeway. Freeway’s deal was that he sold bags of coke at exits off the freeway. Freeway wanted to move up and become a lieutenant in my organization, so I decided to test him. I needed a rival killed, so I ordered Freeway to take the guy out. I drove Freeway there so I could watch. He walks up to the guy on the corner, caps him, and jumps into my car. As we’re leaving, he pukes on the upholstery. The blood upset him.”

Rock shook his head at the memory. His Mexican bodyguards laughed to themselves.

“Freeway was a weakling, so I got rid of him,” the drug kingpin said. “You, on the other hand, have the right stuff to join my organization. You interested?”

It was a job interview. Billy tried to keep a straight face.

“You want me to push drugs for you?” he asked.

“I got a hundred guys selling drugs for me,” Rock said. “I want you to police my casino, keep hustlers from stealing my money. I’ll pay you real good, give you a car, penthouse, all the blow you want, pussy, too. You won’t regret coming to work for me. Will he?”

“Rock’s the best,” Shaz said.

“What do you say?” Rock asked. “You in?”

Billy believed in seizing opportunities whenever they presented themselves to him. Only one person stood in the way of him ripping off Galaxy’s casino this afternoon, and that was his old pal Crunchie. If Crunchie’s grift sense kicked in, he’d blow the whistle on Billy and his crew and bring everything crashing down on Billy’s head.

“The last time I checked, Crunchie was policing your casino,” Billy said. “Is he staying? If he is, then my answer is no. I won’t work alongside that prick.”

Rock was not a man to be challenged. He picked up his walking stick from the floor and dropped the handle on Billy’s shoulder, causing the young hustler to wince in pain.

“You got a lot of balls, little fellow. I’ll answer your question, but only this one time. Crunchie’s history.”

“Then I’m in,” he said.

“Good. We’re meeting in Doucette’s office at two to discuss how we plan to deal with these Gypsies trying to rip me off. Don’t be late.”

“I’ll be there,” he said.

“Don’t make me regret this decision.”

“You won’t.”

“Get out of here, and let me finish my lunch.” To Shaz he said, “Hang around for a few minutes. We have some things to discuss.”

“Sure, Rock,” she said.

Billy tried not to laugh as he walked out of the café with the punishers. He’d pulled some major snow jobs in his time, but this one ranked at the very top.

His Droid was talking to him. Another text from Travis. His crew was camped out in the employee parking lot, waiting for Billy to show his face.

“It’s time for you to meet my crew,” he said to the punishers.