Jinx was working a sweet scam inside the detention center. Every weekend, he got himself arrested on a minor charge. Because the detention center was packed, it took hours before Jinx got to stand before a judge. He used that time to work the holding cell and get the names of new inmates, where they lived, and the names of a wife or girlfriend.
When he had five or six good prospects, he’d call his partner on the outside and give him the information. His partner would use the Internet to find the prospect’s phone number, call it, and identify himself as a deputy at the jail. His partner would request a credit card number or PayPal account information so the inmate could post bail.
On an average weekend, Jinx took down five grand bilking inmates. His only fear was that he’d someday bilk the same inmate twice, and the inmate would take revenge.
“So what’s your angle?” Jinx asked.
“I cheat casinos,” Billy said.
“Good for you, man.”
A guard appeared outside the holding cell. “Cunningham, front and center.”
“See you around,” Billy said.
The guard escorted Billy to a windowless interrogation room on the sixth floor. Grimes and Tricaricco were present and wore faded jeans and polo shirts and Saturday stubble on their chins. Both men stared at the young hustler like he was a ghost.
“Hello, Billy,” his attorney said. “Special Agent Grimes and Special Agent Tricaricco were kind enough to interrupt what they were doing and come down.”
“I really appreciate it,” Billy said.
The interrogation room had a pocked wood table with four chairs. Billy and his attorney sat down on one side of the table, Grimes and Tricaricco on the other. The gaming agents could not stop staring at Billy, their faces a mixture of confusion and anger.
“You bring the radio?” Billy asked his attorney.
Underman produced a cheap radio and set it on the table. Billy turned on the power and spun the dial to 92.3 FM, the KOMP. Laurie Steele & the Homegrown Show was on. Billy set the volume so it was just loud enough to drown out their conversation to the mikes in the ceiling.
“Turn that thing off,” Tricaricco declared.
Billy put his elbows on the table. “No.”
“I said, turn that fucking thing off, or I’ll do it for you.”
“You don’t want the mikes to pick up what I have to say. Grimes hired the Haneys to whack me. I found out, and now you’re going to pay for it.”
Tricaricco looked ready for a heart attack while Grimes stared miserably at the desk.
Billy had the gaming agents right where he wanted them. He removed the newspaper article reporting Cal Branche’s murder from his pocket and placed it on the table so Cal’s pleasant face stared up at them. The gaming agents glanced at the article before looking away.
“Ten years ago, Cal Branche got shot in the back of the head and buried in the desert,” Billy said. “At the time, Cal was trying to make the casinos pay for health insurance for their employees, which would have cost them millions if Cal got what he wanted.
“The police conducted an investigation and interviewed the Haneys, who were hanging around McCarran the night Cal came in. The gaming board also talked to the Haneys.” Looking at Tricaricco, he said, “You talked to them.”
“So what if I did?” Tricaricco said.
“You knew the Haneys whacked Cal, but you let them go. So did the cops. Cal Branche being dead was good for the town’s casinos, so you let them walk.”
“There was no proof,” Tricaricco said, clearly on the defensive. “There were more than a thousand passengers at McCarran the night Cal Branche’s plane came in. The fact that the Haneys were there doesn’t prove a damn thing.”
“The Haneys are a couple of two-bit thugs. The father gets his kicks out of punching people in the face. The father doesn’t wear gloves and neither does his son, which means they leave clues at the scene of the crime, like fingerprints and trace fibers. But the casinos told the gaming board and the police to ignore the evidence, so you did.”
Tricaricco looked ready to explode and addressed Underman. “I wasted my fucking afternoon to listen to this horseshit? You’re going to pay for this, Felix, mark my words.”
Underman was on a first-name basis with every judge in town, and not accustomed to being threatened. He started to reply and Billy silenced him with a sharp kick under the table.
“I have proof,” Billy said.
That shut Tricaricco down. Grimes had gone mute and had yet to make eye contact.
“I’d like to see it,” Tricaricco said.
“I’m guessing that after you got the call from the casinos, you got rid of the evidence that linked the Haneys with Cal’s killing,” Billy said. “But there was one clue that directly implicated the Haneys that you missed.” He jabbed the photo. “Look at his hand.”
The gaming agents leaned in to stare at Cal Branche’s photograph. So did Underman. Normally, Billy would have milked the moment to make the gaming agents squirm, but there was a scam at the Carnivale with his name on it, and he wanted to be there when it went down.
“The ring Cal’s wearing has a brass coin from ancient Rome that bears the likeness of an emperor named Caesar Crispus,” Billy said. “The ring’s a one of a kind and was sold to Cal by a jeweler in town who I happen to know. When Cal’s body was discovered, it was picked clean. Everything was gone, including that ring. Guess who has the ring now?”
“Who?” Tricaricco said, practically choking on the word.
“Old Man Haney.”
“Maybe he bought it in a pawn shop.”
“Tell that to the DA.”
Tricaricco looked at Underman. “You went to the district attorney already?”
“That was a figure of speech. Wasn’t it, Billy?” Underman said.
“That’s right. Not that it didn’t cross my mind,” Billy said. “But I thought it would be best if I told you gentlemen first.”
The interrogation room went quiet and the cheap radio’s music washed over them. Tricaricco and Grimes both understood what was about to happen. The DA would see the chance to solve Cal’s murder and make a name for himself. The buck would stop with the gaming board, and Grimes’s and Tricaricco’s lives would be forever ruined.
Grimes broke the silence. “So what do you want? Money?”
“I want you to vouch for me,” Billy said.
“Vouch for you how?”
“This morning I shot a guy to death named Jimmy Slyde. Slyde’s a scumbag with a rap sheet the length of your arm. I want the both of you to stand up in front of a judge and say that I was working for the gaming board as an informant, and that you asked me to keep tabs on Slyde. This morning, Slyde beat up a woman named Maggie Flynn and was about to rape her—”
“That little slut’s involved in this?” Grimes said.
It was all Billy could do not to put his hands around Grimes’s throat and snap his neck.
“—when I discovered him in the act. Slyde tried to stab me, and I shot him in self-defense. That’s it. Get me off, and this story about the Haneys goes away.”
Tricaricco chewed it over, since at the end of the day it was his decision to make. Striking a deal with the devil was risky, but it beat facing the music any day of the week.
“All right,” Tricaricco said.
“You’ll do it?” Billy asked.
“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Tricaricco said.
“I want one more thing. This bullshit has to end, and the slate wiped clean. Nothing I did to the gaming board deserved you fuckers putting a contract out on my life.”
Tricaricco glanced at Grimes. “You on board with that, Frank?”