James Swain - Super Con

“I’ve got a plan to get rid of the body, save Leon, and also put the screws to that little rat bastard Broken Tooth,” he said. “Call it killing three birds with one stone. It will work a little differently than our casino heists. Cory and Morris will pair up, as will Pepper and Misty, while Gabe will run solo. I’m not going to share your roles with the others, in case one of us gets busted by the gaming board.”

“The gaming board is involved in your plan?” Cory asked.

“That’s correct.”

“But I thought you were on their Most Wanted list.”

“I am. But that doesn’t mean I can’t get them to help us. I have something the gaming board wants, and they should be willing to work with me.”

“Why are you keeping us in the dark?” Gabe asked.

“It’s for your own protection. If you don’t know what the others are doing, you can’t give up the information if you get hauled in.”

“Got it,” Gabe said.

“Didn’t I see this in a movie once?” Misty asked.

“ Reservoir Dogs ,” Pepper said. “Will we have aliases like Mr. Pink and Mr. Brown?”

“Not this time,” he said. “I want each of you to pack a suitcase. Once Leon is out of danger, you’ll need to hightail it out of town. Cory and Morris will head to Phoenix to get ready for the Super Bowl scam. Gabe, I suggest you go with them in case your trick coin malfunctions before the game and needs fixing. Pepper and Misty, you can go wherever your hearts desire.”

“We can stay with my girlfriend in LA,” Pepper said.

“That works. There’s one more thing. I live by the cheater’s code, and I expect you to as well. People think it’s funny that criminals would follow a code, but it’s what keeps the profession alive. You’ve got to have rules, even if you’re in the business of breaking the law.

“One of the most important rules is that a cheat should never put another cheat in a compromising situation. If a cheat gets caught, he should never rat out his partners. And a cheat should never intentionally screw up another cheat’s score. Those two things are forbidden. In the old days, you’d get a bullet in your head for breaking these rules.”

He paused to let the words sink in, then continued. “I should have killed Travis the moment I figured out he’d betrayed us. Travis put all of us in harm’s way, not just Leon. But I loved the big guy, so I held back. That was my mistake, and I’m sorry.” He looked at Morris. “And I owe you an apology.”

“You do?” Morris asked.

“I owe you an apology because I didn’t do my job. If I’d handled this differently, you wouldn’t have had to shoot Travis. That was my responsibility, and I’m sorry, man.”

“Thanks, Billy. That means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome. Now, let’s go rescue Leon and set things right.”

“Frank, you know how badly I want you to get my job,” Bill “Trixie” Tricaricco, director of field agents for the Nevada Gaming Control Board, said. “You’ve paid your dues, my friend. But I can’t just hand it to you like a baton at a relay race. You have to earn it.”

Grimes went stiff in his chair. What the hell had Trixie just said? Grimes had arrested more casino cheats than any of his peers. If the report card was graded based upon number of busts, then Grimes got nothing but straight As. And then there was the matter of Trixie and Grimes having murdered a contract killer named Wilmer Haney and his despicable son and burning the Haneys’ house down to hide the crime. Didn’t that count for something?

“But I’ve earned it,” Grimes protested a little too loudly.

“But what have you done for us lately?” Trixie said. “I know that sounds trite, but it’s the truth, Frank, and you haven’t had a bust in a while. That’s not like you.”

“I thought I was a shoo-in. You said so yourself.”

“I did. But that was before Little Miss Debbie Do Good stole your thunder. That young lady is a force to be reckoned with.”

“Debbie’s only been here three years. I’ve put in ten.”

“The boys upstairs like her. She’s made some busts, and she’s got great legs.”

Special Agent Debbie Goodman had a horseshoe stuck up her ass. Do Good had made several solid busts, the most recent a Strip casino laundering cash using an intricate series of wire transfers. The Strip casino had paid a huge fine, and Debbie’s stock had risen in the department. This was the first time Grimes had heard she was vying for Trixie’s job, and it galled him.

“When will your replacement be announced?” Grimes asked.

“A few days before I retire,” Trixie said.

“Which is when?”

“I’m blowing out of here in two weeks. I’m still waiting for the paperwork to get processed. Folks in Carson City don’t know the meaning of fast.”

“So I still have time,” Grimes said.

“For what?”

“To bust the Gypsies and get your job.”

“I thought you told me the Gypsies slipped town and left a cold trail.”

“I haven’t given up yet.”

“You’ve got a lead on them?”

“Yes. And I plan to work it until I find them.”

“That’s the spirit, Frank.”

Trixie unscrewed a bottled water and took a long swallow. There was an ugly rumor swirling around that Trixie would soon be in the employ of Pearl Gaming, which owned four casinos in town. There was nothing wrong with Trixie entering the private sector; government employees did it every day. The problem was with Pearl. A month did not go by when one of their casinos wasn’t getting fined for running games that did not pay out the advertised rate of return. Pearl’s management didn’t care, and they simply paid the fines and continued to break the law. Only the threat of the gaming board revoking Pearl’s gambling license would change things, but the gaming board hadn’t yanked a casino’s license in forty years.

Hearing a knock on the door, Trixie barked, and a timid secretary stuck her head in. “There’s a man on the phone who needs to speak to Frank.”

“Take his number, and Frank will call him back,” Trixie said.

“I tried, and he refused to give it to me. He said it’s urgent.”

“Maybe that’s your lead on the Gypsies,” Trixie said.

Grimes’s cheeks burned. Trixie, his boss and friend, was telling him to leave. The shelves behind Trixie’s desk were bare, the mementos boxed away. Trixie already had one foot out the door, his days of dealing with field agents a thing of the past.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” Grimes said.

“You do that, Frank. And good luck.”

He was going to need it.

Grimes parked his burly frame into the chair in his cramped cubicle. He had a number of snitches on his payroll, and it wasn’t uncommon for one to call needing money to bail his sorry ass out of jail. Grimes yanked the phone out of its receiver and said, “This is Special Agent Grimes. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

“This is Billy Cunningham,” the voice on the other end said.

Grimes gripped the receiver so hard it made his hand throb. If any single cheat had hurt his reputation and stunted his chance for a promotion, it was Cunningham, and it was all he could do not to curse him out. “You just pulled me out of a meeting. This better be good.”

“I need your help,” Cunningham said.

“That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. You calling me for help. Ha-ha.”

“There’s something in it for you.”

“I’m hanging up the phone. Have a nice day.”

“There’s a Chinese gangster in town trying to fix the Super Bowl. His name’s Broken Tooth, and I can help you nail his ass.”

“His name’s Broken Tooth? Get real.”