I finish dealing the cards.
Set down the deck.
For a moment I stare at the five hands I’ve dealt on the floor.
Okay, let’s see if I was able to pull this off.
I turn over the second pile, the one that Solomon chose for his own hand, the one containing the nine of hearts. “This is your hand. A flush with a two, four, five, eight, and nine of hearts.”
“Impressive.”
Next, I turn to the fourth pile. “But you might have been dealt a full house.” I show him the three kings and two sevens that I’d dealt into that hand.
“A better hand,” he says.
“Or this one.” I flip over the third deck. “Four threes beats a full house.” I move on to the first hand, a straight flush of the four, five, six, seven, and eight of diamonds.
“But I wouldn’t have wanted that hand either.” He’s staring at the fifth and final hand. “Right?”
“Right.” I reach for it. “And this is my hand.”
He guesses even before I have the chance to turn them over — the only hand that could beat a straight flush. “A royal flush.”
I flip over the cards in order, the ten, jack, queen, king, and ace of hearts.
“Bravo, Mr. Banks.”
“Thank you.”
“You memorized the deck that quickly?”
“I did.” I’m not sure he’ll count that as figuring out the effect. Technically, he might, but it’s the best I can come up with on the spot, and it’s really the only possible way I can think of to even attempt this effect.
“How did you do it so fast?”
“I didn’t think about it too much. I suspected it would distract me if I didn’t trust my instincts. I pictured something else instead.”
“And that was?”
“The face of my friend Emilio lying dead in his coffin.”
Without any hesitation he tells me, “Tomás Agcaoili is at the Nite Owl Motel out on the edge of town.”
“I know where it is.”
“Room 214.”
“He’s there now?”
“Yes. Waiting by the phone in case I should call to warn him that Akinsanya is on his way to find him. He’s scheduled to fly out later tonight.”
“So I’ve heard.”
He doesn’t ask me how I know that.
“But he’s going to take a bus out of town instead. He knows people will be looking for him. I suggested he book the flight. Misdirection. I’m sure you, of all people, understand the importance of that.”
“When? When does the bus leave?”
“Within the hour.”
“Will you warn him that I’m on my way to find him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You’re just looking for justice, something King Solomon himself would have helped you find. And Agcaoili didn’t tell me the truth.” He leaves it at that, and I decide not to ask him to elaborate. I just want to get to the Nite Owl Motel as quickly as I can.
The colossal guy who’d led us into the room with Solomon leads us past the women in the hallway and back outside.
Neither Xavier nor Martin is in the alley. Charlene’s car is there, Martin’s sedan is gone.
When we try Xavier’s cell, he doesn’t answer. Charlene and I both check our phones and don’t find any texts or voicemails from him. When we call Fionna at the house, she tells us she hasn’t heard from him.
Charlene asks me if I think Xavier might have gone somewhere with Martin.
“That’s the only thing I can think of.”
“What do you suggest we do?”
Actually, that’s a good question. “Well, Xavier can take care of himself. He has Betty with him, and obviously, he’s well versed in how to use her. I say we keep trying his phone, go to the Nite Owl Motel and see if Agcaoili is still there, then worry about finding Xavier.”
Charlene takes her place in the driver’s seat and starts the engine. “Jevin, how did you know Solomon had never seen that effect before?”
“Because I haven’t seen it. At least not done like that.”
“But it’s possible that he had.”
“I doubt it. I was making it up as I went along.”
I give her directions to the Nite Owl. “Tomás is obviously dangerous,” she tells me somewhat apprehensively. “I think we should call the police, have them take him in.”
“For what?”
“Murder.”
“That hasn’t been proven. The police in the Philippines officially recorded Emilio’s death as accidental, remember? Not even the FBI is willing to look into it. Just because Tomás is here — if he’s even at the motel at all — doesn’t mean anyone in law enforcement is going to take our accusations against him seriously.”
Only as I’m explaining all of this does it strike me that I have no real plan for what to do when I find Tomás. I’ve been so focused on just locating him that I haven’t thought through where to take things from there.
I’m not sure what else to say, and apparently Charlene is at a loss as well, because we’re both quiet as we make our way through traffic to the Nite Owl Motel.
In order to keep his gun trained on Wray, Fred had him take the wheel.
Now they pulled into a parking lot outside a warehouse southwest of the Strip.
“What’s this?”
“This is where I design the effects for the show I work on.”
“Banks.”
“That’s right.”
“And the USB drive is in here?”
“Yes.”
Fred gestured for him to turn off the engine. “Alright, then. Let’s go.”
We pull up to the Nite Owl Motel.
Charlene parks. “It reminds me of the motel from Psycho.”
She’s nearly as much of a movie addict as I am, and honestly, I have to agree that Norman Bates’s motel does come to mind, except this place is two stories instead of just one.
“What are you thinking, Jev?”
“I’m reevaluating what I said earlier about calling the cops. Maybe we should.”
“What’ll we tell them?”
“We’ll tell them there’s been a murder, and the man who did it is in this motel room.”
“But we don’t know yet if he’s really there.”
True. “No, we don’t.”
Regardless, after a little more discussion I go ahead and make the call, telling the 911 operator what we know.
Then we wait.
Minutes pass by.
The clock in the car tells me it’s just six, but it seems like sixty.
Finally, I get out of the car.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going up to the room.”
“Why?”
“To stand near the door and make sure he doesn’t run away before the police arrive. We’ll adapt, come up with something to tell them if he’s not there.”
Considering our conversations earlier today about how she doesn’t want me risking too much, I prepare for a disagreement. However, this time she doesn’t argue but instead just exhorts me, “Be careful.”
“I will.”
I head to the stairs that lead to the walkway encircling the second story. I have no idea what the response time for the police will be. I’m hoping it won’t be much longer.
But what then? What’ll happen after they arrive?
They certainly won’t arrest Agcaoili without good reason, and when they find out that he’s not even considered a suspect by the Philippine National Police — if anyone’ll get arrested, it’ll be Charlene and me for accusing him of murder.
Maybe I hadn’t thought this through so well after all.
I reach the second level and walk toward room 214.
So wait for the police or go after him yourself?