Suicide Run_ Three Harry Bosch Stories - Michael Connelly [29]
“All right, I’ll tell you if you have to know. They accused me of cheating and there’s nothing I could do to defend myself. I wasn’t cheating and it’s their interpretation against my word. End of story. They kicked me out and won’t let me back in. Banned for life.”
“But they didn’t have a problem with your wife still coming?”
Blitzstein shook his head angrily.
“Of course not. She’s a draw, man. She brings business in over there. When she’s playing, you get all these guys coming out of the woodwork to play against the girl from the world series and the ESPN commercials. They all want to kick her ass. It’s a guy thing. It’s like marking their turf, coming in her face. It’s the same with all the women on the tour.”
Bosch was silent for a moment. This was no misdirection by Blitzstein. Bosch was beginning to see at least part of the motivation for murder. Blitzstein knew that if the murder of his wife—a well-liked and well-known player—was attributed to a follow home from the casino in Commerce, then the card room would take a major public-relations hit that could impact its business and reputation. As if on cue, Blitzstein’s bile boiled up and added further to Bosch’s understanding of the crime.
“You know what?” he said. “If this thing turns out that somebody followed her home, I am going to sue their asses over there. It will be the biggest goddamn jackpot I ever rake in.”
Bosch simply nodded, hoping Blitzstein would say more. But he may have realized he had already said too much. He turned quiet and Bosch started off in a new direction.
“How would you describe your relationship with your wife?”
“How do you mean?”
“You know, were you happy with each other, was it getting boring, were you upset that she was a poker celebrity and you weren’t?”
Bosch stared pointedly at him while he said the last part. Blitzstein reacted immediately.
“We were fine. We were still in love and I didn’t give a shit about who was a celebrity and who wasn’t. You know what poker comes down to? Twenty percent skill and eighty percent luck. Some people are more skilled than others but luck is always the thing.”
Again Bosch waited a few moments to see if he would say more but he didn’t. Bosch continued.
“All right, so the card room in Commerce is off-limits. Where then do you play? The Hustler or the card room at the Hollywood track?”
“Nope, I don’t play anywhere. They’re all together on this. You get banned one place and they put your picture on the wall everyplace else. It’s fucking unconstitutional but nothing I can do anything about.”
“So you play private games?”
“When I can get them, yeah. Meantime, I was my wife’s manager.”
Bosch thought about his ex-wife and the stories she told about private games, the personal items, car keys and guns that would sometimes go into the pots.
“You ever win anything besides money at those private games?”
“What are you talking about?”
“My ex-wife is a player—you might even know her. Eleanor Wish?”
Blitzstein hesitated and then nodded.
“Yeah, I remember her. I think Tracey told me she was in Hong Kong or Macau these days. I was even thinking of heading over there to check out the casinos.”
Bosch saw an opening and went for it.
“When did you start thinking about that?”
“What?”
“Moving to Hong Kong or Macau.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, man. I said I was thinking of going over there to check it out, not move there. Why would I think of moving there?”
“Because you were banned here. Did the ban extend to Las Vegas? Maybe you were thinking of pulling up stakes.”
“Look, man, it’s none of your business. I wasn’t thinking about moving anywhere. We have a house here and I was happy. A lot of things were happening for Trace and I was managing her career. I don’t need to defend myself to you.”
Bosch raised his hands in a back-off gesture.
“You certainly don’t. Anyway, back to what I was asking about. Yes, my