The Big Gamble - Michael Mcgarrity [47]
“Because nobody can keep up with you as it is.”
“Are you turning into a brownnose, Lieutenant?”
Molina snorted. He’d worked with Kerney back in the old days and knew the chief’s sense of humor well. “Yeah, that’s me all right.”
Action picked up at the slots and tables as the late-morning customers rolled out of bed and into the casino. From the video surveillance room, Moses Kaywaykla watched as Clayton approached the cashiers one by one, asking questions, and passing out something to each employee. He went out on the floor to investigate.
“Nephew,” Moses said, steering Clayton away from a roaming security guard, “what are you doing?”
“Looking for this guy,” Clayton said, holding up a sketch.
“You should have brought that to me,” Moses said sternly.
“Are you pissed?”
“You’re starting to act like a gringo. Let’s talk upstairs in the café.”
Clayton handed Moses the sketch after they were seated at a table. “Do you know him?”
Moses shook his head as he waved off the approaching waitress. “He doesn’t look familiar.”
“His name is Johnny Jackson. Five six or seven, about a hundred and forty pounds.”
Moses studied the sketch more closely to satisfy Clayton’s persistence. “He still doesn’t look familiar.”
Clayton pushed a driver’s license photo across the table. “Him?”
“Harry Staggs,” Moses said. “He comes in and plays poker occasionally when he’s not busy entertaining his friends.”
“You knew about his gambling parlor?”
“It was a well-kept secret until the morning paper appeared,” Moses replied. “How come you didn’t arrest Staggs?”
“For lots of reasons,” Clayton replied brusquely.
“I’m sorry you put him out of business.”
“Why is that?” Clayton asked in surprise.
“Some of the big winners would come here and keep playing after his game ended. We could usually count on a number of them to lose money at our tables.”
“You had knowledge of his activities and did nothing?”
“If it doesn’t affect Mescalero Apaches, I don’t really care what happens off tribal land. Neither did you, until a short time ago.”
There was nothing subtle about the criticism. In the Apache world, family came first and foremost, and that included the entire tribe. “Are you going to lecture me, Uncle?”
Moses smiled gently. “Not today. Do you have more questions?”
“This Jackson supposedly runs a stable of hookers at a nearby location, where important, well-known men are discreetly entertained.”
Moses shook his head. “That’s a new one on me.”
“Never heard of it?”
“Never. About the only skin-trade action we get here is an occasional freelance hooker up from El Paso. I run them off as soon as they show up.”
“It’s that easy?”
“Bimbos are hard to miss.”
“Anything like that happen recently?”
“My night shift supervisor thought he’d spotted one a couple of days ago. But she left the casino alone before he could approach her.”
“What day, exactly?”
“I think it was the same night your murder victim was here,” Moses said.
“Let’s find out,” Clayton said as he pushed his chair back.
In the video surveillance room, Moses checked the log and confirmed that the woman had been at the casino the same day as Ulibarri. He pulled a tape from the video rack and ran it fast-forward until a blonde with long curly hair and a lot of cleavage moved jerkily across the screen.
“She’s new,” Moses said as he reversed the tape and hit the remote play button.
They watched as she circled the poker tables, trying to draw interest. Ulibarri, who was at one of the tables, didn’t seem to notice until she whispered something in his ear after he’d won another pot. He smiled, nodded, and watched her walk out the door.
“I don’t remember seeing this when we first looked at the tapes,” Clayton said.
“I think we skipped over it,” Moses said.
“Can I borrow the tape?”
“No, but I can have a couple of stills made for you in less than a hour. I’ll get you an enlarged profile and full-face head shot. Will that do?”
“Thanks, Uncle.”
While Moses delivered the tape to a computer technician and went back to work,