CASINO SHUFFLE (35 page)

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Authors: J. Fields Jr.

BOOK: CASINO SHUFFLE
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“Hi,” said Mark.
 
“Friend of Jean’s?”

“I’m on break.”

Mark noticed that the haphazard spaces between the stacked chairs created a number of good viewing holes.
 
“Have you seen an Asian guy wearing a blue jacket and tan pants?”

“He’s in the mattresses.”

From somewhere nearby Ang yelled out, “You bitch!”

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

“Pardon me for sounding like a bitch, but what the
hell
is going on Antonio?”

After viewing the name of the caller on the screen, Antonio got a very clear vision of a Mako shark clamping firmly onto one of his lower extremities.
 
“Good evening, Liz.
 
You’re working late.”

“When the Casino President gets a phone call about a riot in the hotel porte-cochere, I get a phone call from him.”

“As his Executive Assistant I would expect no less.”

“So as Head Butler, may I ask what the hell you’re doing?”


Brandon
is rather self-motivated and somewhat addicted to media attention.
 
They followed him from the airport.
 
I understand his fan club has an itinerary of his appearances posted on their website.”

“So a few thousand teeny-boppers knew there was going to be a riot, and you didn’t?”

“I am not a member of that particular club.”

“Don’t get witty with me, Antonio.
 
It’s too late, and I’m too fucking tired for your polished repartee bullshit.
 
Do have these celebrities under control?”

“Yes, short of leather restraints and medication.”

“Was that sexual innuendo?”

“Not in the least.”

“Don’t fucking flirt with me.
 
I’ll shove that bowtie so far up your ass your colon will look like the best man at a wedding.”
 
There was a clink of glass on glass.
 
“And yes I’m having some wine, so turn off your super butler senses.”

“I assure you that I’m doing everything I can to limit the impact of our celebrity guests’ unrestrained lifestyle on our property and business.”

“Mmm.”
 
She swallowed loudly.
 
“Another thing.
 
What is a Kamikaze Cam and is it going to ruin my weekend?”

Antonio cleared his throat and relayed all the pertinent information regarding Ang Wang and his reputation as a paparazzo.
 
“I’m awaiting a call from Mark Ford at any moment to see if he’s been apprehended.”

“Jesus Christ.
 
I hope I have another bottle of wine in the frig.”

“I can have a nice
Bordeaux
sent over by town car if – ”

“I said turn that shit off.
 
I’m not one of your rich bitch Villa guests who can’t wipe their own asses without you standing there with a silk handkerchief on a silver tray.”

Antonio exercised silence.

“Even you being quiet annoys me because you know it’s what I want and that’s the only reason you’re doing it.”
 
A click, pause, an exhale that continued through her next few words.
 
“Yes you have me smoking again.
 
What is it about you that makes me confess everything before you can call me on it?
 
Don’t answer that.
 
Shut-up and listen.
 
I don’t want to hear about
Brandon
again until I hear the revenue generated from his appearance at Twilight, which is projected to be over one hundred and fifty thousand between door and bar sales.
 
I don’t want to hear about his bubbly bare-chested girlfriend unless she’s going to sign autographs and make us some money.
 
If she’s just staining our sheets and eating our food, she’s a non-entity to me.
 
She’s a house pet.
 
She’s not paying the bills.
 
Are you keeping up with me so far?”

“Definitively.”

“You use words like that to make me mad, don’t you?”

“I am disheartened that you would think such a thing.”

“You’re gonna be disemboweled if any of this gets us bad press or loss of revenue.
 
I’m already in trouble with Tribal Council for having that stupid shark removed tonight.”

“You’re taking the Mako from the hotel lobby tank?”

“Yes, I’m taking the fucking Mako out and donating it to the Mystic Aquarium.
 
I had it done on third shift in case the divers got their leg bit off.
 
In fact it’s already gone.
 
That’s what everybody gets for naming it
Lizzy.
 
There’s gonna be a plaque at the aquarium with the story of the Tribal Council Member catching it, and advertising the casino.
 
That’s the only reason I’m not fired.
 
Now I’m going to call the Casino President and I’m going to tell him everything else is fucking perfect, because
Antonio Cruz Head Butler
has it all under control.”

“Understood.”

“If I get in any more trouble because of you, I’m throwing your body under the bus, where it will be pulverized beyond recognition.
 
Now turn your butler super powers back on and get back to work.”

“Good night, Liz.”

“It better be,” she said and ended the connection.

Antonio took a deep breath, attempting to clear his mind of the extraneous pressures of his problems so that he might focus on solutions.
 
He longed for the solitude of his office so that he may sit and think, but the presence of Max would only distract him to attending what needs he might have upon awakening.
 
His BlackBerry buzzed in his hand, and he hesitated to even look at the screen.
 
When he did so, against his nature, he braced himself for the worst.

“Mark,” he said.
 
“Please tell me you have good news.”

“I just caught me a Kamikaze.”

Antonio emitted a silent sigh of relief.
 
“Most excellent, my friend.
 
Was he ensconced in the attic?”

“If that means hiding, then yes he was.”
 
Mark burped copiously into the phone.
 
“Sorry.
 
I think my ulcer is back.
 
Anyways, he was in there, but I have no idea what he was doing.
 
I looked around when I first came in, didn’t see him, but found his little campsite.
 
Sodas, snacks, a laptop.
 
Then he took off and we played hide-and-go-seek.
 
He’s being dragged down to the State Police casino offices right now.”

“Did he have his camera on him?”

“Not in his hands where I could see it.
 
Could be in a pocket or under his clothes.”

“The contents of that camera may very well reveal what he was doing while you waited.
 
Will he be searched?”

“I’m going to head down and talk to the Staties right now.
 
Wanna meet me there?”

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Six

 

The door was located just off the casino floor but back-of-house, where individuals could be removed from the public view if such situations arose.
 
There was an overhead camera and a call-box for entry.

As Antonio approached Mark he extended a packet of antacids and a bottle of water he’d retrieved on his way past the bell desk in the hotel lobby.
 
“How are you feeling?”

“Not as bad as I look.
 
Wow, your tie is crooked.”

“It’s been a very demanding day.”

“Want me to fix it?”

Antonio pressed the button on the call-box.
 
“Let’s talk to Ang Wang and see if we can bring this evening to a suitable conclusion so that we both get some rest.”

“Works for me.
 
How’s
my
tie?”

Antonio glanced down.
 
“Sticking out of your jacket pocket.”

“Oh right.
 
Forgot I took it off.”

They were buzzed in.
 

The casino offices designated to the State Police contained two desks, live video feed from main cameras within the complex, a locked fire arms cabinet and an interrogation room with three small holding cells.

Inside were two
plainclothes
State
Police detectives sipping coffee from take-out containers.
 
One was wearing a polo shirt and tan slacks, medium build, trim hair, and a lariat around his neck holding a Player’s Card, in the fashion of a casual slot player.
 
The other was shorter, heavier, and wore a black button-up shirt, black slacks, and shiny black hair to match his shiny black shoes.
 
Dressed as a high roller, he wouldn’t appear out of place among the table games on a busy weekend.

“Hey Mark, we got him in the interrogation room,” said Detective Davidson, the man in black.
 
“Antonio, how’s business?”

“Profitable,” said Antonio.
 
“The hotel is sold-out and so is
Brandon
’s show tomorrow night.”

“Great,” said Detective Jameson, the one disguised as a slot player.
 
“That means we’ll have at least twenty deadbeats working the floor, stealing slot vouchers outta machines when people aren’t looking and cashing them in.”
 
He nodded towards his partner.
 
“How much was that two-man team holding last weekend?”

Detective Davidson said, “Couple hundred on them.
 
Their sister, who provided the distraction for the old fellas playing slots while one of her brothers reached over and punched out the ticket, was cashing in about four or five hundred next door.
 
All together they had over eighty slot vouchers in their pockets, socks, underwear – the sister’s breasts were a lot smaller after her strip search, and less distracting.”

Mark pointed at the closed door down a short hall to their right.
 
“Speaking of strip search, what can we do with Ang Wang?”

“Depends,” said Detective Davidson.
 
“What’d he take?”

“We have him on camera using a master key to get into a Villa.
 
Under his jacket he’s probably wearing a stolen Engineering Uniform shirt,” said Mark.
 
“Also he has a camera that might have pictures of either Shannon or Brandon or both.”

Detective Jameson asked, “Doing what?”

“Naked or screwing,” said Mark.

“Or both,” said Detective Davidson.
 
“So we can search him for the master key.
 
Make him take off his jacket and give back the uniform shirt.
 
That’s all casino property.”

Antonio asked, “And the camera?”

“That’s his personal property,” said Detective Jameson.
 
“And what’s on it his personal property too.”

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