Sucker bet - James Swain [50]
“You realize you’re in a lot of trouble,” he said.
“I haven’t broken any laws.”
“Rico murdered the blackjack dealer. When Rico gets caught, he’ll drag down everything in sight. Including you.”
“And you can stop that from happening,” she said.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I’ll tell the cops the truth. Rico’s a con man. He hired you to lead Nigel around by the nose. There would be no reason for you to know anything else about the scam. If the cops decide to prosecute you anyway, I’ll go to court as your witness.”
“Provided I help you out.”
“That’s right.”
Still looking at the pool, she said, “And if I don’t?”
“Then you’re on your own, sweetheart.”
Candy blew out her cheeks. The sun was giving her skin a lobster complexion. She brought herself back from a long way and stared into his eyes.
“Rico is planning to rip off a bookie named Bobby Jewel,” she said.
“How is Nigel involved?”
“Rico is going to use Nigel’s money. Rico’s been planning it for a long time.”
“How much money are we talking about?”
“He said millions.”
“When?”
“The next couple of days.”
“What else?”
“That’s all I know.” She looked deep into his eyes. “You still going to hold up your end of the bargain?”
“I gave you my word, didn’t I?”
Her chair made a harsh scraping sound on the concrete balcony. Valentine walked her out of his room to the elevator. She pressed the button, then threw her arms around him, and gave him a kiss that Valentine didn’t think he’d ever forget.
“Thanks for the save,” she said.
21
Hey, rube!
The words made Ray Hicks’s head snap. Carny slang for trouble. He was helping out at the cotton candy stand. The sun was low in the sky, the carnival starting to empty out. An employee hurtled past, then another. Hicks caught the second man’s arm.
“Talk to me.”
“Shooting,” the man said breathlessly.
Hicks looked up and down his carnival. Everything looked fine. “Where?”
“By the trailers.”
A line of dirty-faced kids was waiting to buy cotton candy. The man who dispensed the candy had run out of change, so Hicks was standing there with a pocketful of coins, helping out. The man who dispensed the candy knew damn well that Hicks was not going to give him his money to hold. In a whisper, he asked Hicks, “Should I shut down?”
Hicks looked at the kids’ expectant faces. He’d been swindling people for years, but he was not in the business of disappointing them. “Give them free candy.”
“Free candy?”
“You heard me.” Hicks hitched up his trousers and hurried across the lot. If there had been a shooting, it would mean a visit from the town clowns, and another fat bribe to keep everyone happy. Some days, it just wasn’t worth getting out of bed.
The trailers were behind the concession stands, and he came around the corner to see a dozen employees running around like headless chickens. Pushing his way through the crowd, he found a ticket-taker named Smitty who had more brains than all of them combined.
“It looks bad,” Smitty told him.
“How bad is that?” Hicks said.
“He might die.”
Hicks twirled the plastic toothpick that had resided in his mouth since breakfast. “Who we talking about here? A customer?”
Smitty’s eyes went wide. “You don’t know?”
“Spit it out, boy.”
“Mr. Beauregard got shot by a robber.”
Hicks nearly knocked Smitty down as he barreled up the ramp to his trailer. Inside, a gang of employees was clustered around the desk. Mr. Beauregard lay with his eyes shut while a Mexican fortune-teller named Princess Fatima pressed a bloodstained towel to his forehead. Kneeling, he said, “Mr. Beauregard, it’s me. Mr. Beauregard, look at me.”
The chimp’s eyes did not open. Hicks thought of all the times Mr. Beauregard had feigned playing dead, just to get a rise out of him. From the cage he removed the ukulele and plucked a few chords. Mr. Beauregard’s eyelids fluttered. Princess Fatima caressed his brow and silently cried, knowing all too well what the future