James Swain - Super Con

“Guy’s got his own page on Wikipedia. Check him out if you don’t believe me.” Grimes decided to do just that. On his cluttered desk sat an ancient PC. He got on the Internet and with Google’s help was soon reading a page devoted to a notorious Chinese criminal named Wan Kuok-koi, aka Broken Tooth. According to the article, the guy was a public menace and had fixed hundreds of sporting events around the world. As a result of his gangster lifestyle, a meat cleaver had mangled one of his arms.

“You still there?” Cunningham asked.

“I’m here,” Grimes said. “So how does this guy plan to fix the Super Bowl?”

“Broken Tooth approached me to talk to players for the Rebels who spend their off hours at a private villa at Caesars. The plan is for the players to fix certain plays, which will cause several proposition bets to fall his way. Broken Tooth needs the money to finish building a beachfront resort he owns in China so he can live happily ever after.”

“Did you approach the players?”

“I sure did.”

“I should arrest you right now.”

“I didn’t have a choice. Broken Tooth’s goons kidnapped my limo driver and are holding him hostage.”

“You’re saying this Chinese guy blackmailed you.”

“That’s right. Now are you interested, or should I call the FBI?”

Fixing the Super Bowl. The words floated through Grimes’s brain like a banner being pulled by a prop plane. Sporting events were being fixed every single day, and the Vegas sports books took a beating because of it. But because these fixes took place outside of Nevada, the gaming board was powerless to stop them. It occurred to Grimes that this would be a first.

Movement caught his eye. Trixie’s office had a glass wall, and he spied Debbie Do Good standing in front of Trixie’s desk, working her charms. He came out of his chair.

“I’m interested. Where are you?”

“I’m at a joint called Herbs and Rye.”

“Never heard of it. You’d better give me directions.”

“Head west on Sahara and make a U-turn after crossing Valley View. Look for the dark, plain building next to the ARCO gas station and use the red door. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Yes, you will,” Grimes said.

There were so many gin joints in Vegas that Grimes had given up trying to keep track of them. In the good old days, the bars had served whiskey, wine, and beer. Today, the bars had wine cellars, fifty craft beers on tap, and exotic cocktails that took five minutes to prepare.

Grimes came through the front door of Herbs and Rye and stopped to let his eyes adjust. The place had a handful of customers, all tourists. Grimes could tell they were tourists because they were getting drunk in the middle of the day. Cunningham sat at the end of the bar, eating a plate of calamari. He waved to Grimes like an old friend.

Grimes gritted his teeth and headed down the bar. Not that long ago, he’d taken a contract out on Cunningham’s life, a plan that had blown up in his face. And now here he was, about to get in bed with the little bastard. He didn’t care. He wanted that corner office.

He sat on a stool next to Cunningham and ordered a beer. He wasn’t supposed to drink on the job, but if he ordered a nonalcoholic drink in a bar, everyone would know he was a cop.

Cunningham pushed the calamari his way. “Have some. It will make you feel better.”

“Who said I wasn’t feeling well?”

“It’s written all over your face. You look like crap.”

“What’s all this shit it’s mixed with?”

“Banana peppers, prosciutto, and cherry pepper aioli. It’s really tasty.”

Grimes stuck a piece into his mouth and chewed. It was the best calamari he’d ever tasted, but he wasn’t going to tell Cunningham that.

“Start from the beginning, and don’t leave anything out,” Grimes said.

“Two nights ago, Broken Tooth paid me a visit down on Fremont Street. He’s got this plan to fix the Super Bowl by bribing the defensive line of the Rebels. Problem was, I wasn’t interested.”

“Really? Sounds right up your alley.”

“I don’t like sports betting. Too many things can go wrong. Broken Tooth got pissed when I said no, so he kidnapped my limo driver, Leon, and is holding him ransom.”

“You have a driver?”

“Part-time. Broken Tooth had his goons kidnap Leon and is holding him until I get this done.”

“Is Leon a member of your crew?”

“I’ve told you, I don’t have a crew.”

“Right. Does Leon drive the getaway car when you do your jobs?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Grimes finished the calamari. So far everything Cunningham had said rang true, but he wasn’t going to make a decision just yet. Wiping his mouth with a paper napkin, he said, “Which Rebel players did you talk to?”

“I met with Night Train McClain and his buddies on defense. Night Train wasn’t interested and told me to take a hike. That’s why I called you. If I tell Broken Tooth the bad news, he’ll have one of his henchmen put a bullet in Leon’s skull.”

“You haven’t told Broken Tooth.”

“Nope.”

Grimes sipped his beer in thought. He’d been trying to run down Cunningham for ten years and had come up short. Like a grand master at chess, Cunningham was always several moves ahead of his opponents, a master at anticipating what his adversaries were about to try.

“What’s your plan?”

“Broken Tooth wants to give Night Train and his pals upfront money as a show of good faith. I was going to tell Broken Tooth that the fix was in and pick up the money.”

“How much we talking about?”

“Five hundred grand.”

This was sounding better all the time. “And that’s where the gaming board comes in.”

“Correct. I’ll wear a wire when I go see Broken Tooth. I’ll get him to talk about the fix, and you can record it. Then I’ll get the five hundred grand from him and hand it over to you. That should be enough to arrest his sorry ass, don’t you think?”

It was more than enough. Broken Tooth would go down hard, and Grimes would get the credit. If that didn’t get him kicked upstairs, nothing would.

“When is this meeting with Broken Tooth taking place?”

“I’m waiting for him to call me. Hopefully this afternoon.”

Grimes winced. He needed time to set this up properly. “Can you stall him?”

“I can try.”

They finished their drinks. Cunningham’s cell phone on the bar began to vibrate. The young hustler raised the cell phone to his face and answered the call.

“Hello?”

Grimes’s hearing was better than a dog’s. The caller was Chinese and had a voice as pleasing as fingernails scraping a chalkboard. Grimes heard the words Super Bowl come out of the caller’s mouth and knew that everything Cunningham had said was true. Flashbulbs exploded, and for a moment he could hardly think straight. This was the moment he’d been waiting for, and he didn’t care if a little scumbag hustler was responsible for it.

“Tell him yes,” Grimes whispered.

“What time?” Cunningham said into the phone. “Six o’clock tonight?”

Grimes looked at his watch. It was three thirty. Two and a half hours was hardly enough time to set up a proper sting, but it would have to do.

“Tell him you’ll be there,” Grimes whispered.

“That works for me,” Cunningham said into the phone. “Where?”

Cunningham motioned for something to write with. Grimes pulled a pen from the pocket of his sports coat, and Cunningham wrote down an address on a cocktail napkin.

“I’ll be there.” Cunningham hung up.

Grimes paid for the drinks and food. It was his way of telling Cunningham that the past was behind them. Cunningham seemed to appreciate the gesture and stuck out his hand.