Perri O'Shaughnessy - Case of Lies

The dealer, quick-handed and ready with a smile, dealt from a six-deck shoe that had already been played by Silke down to four decks.

She said from somewhere behind him, “I think I’ll get something to eat, a bagel or something.” The word bagel meant an extremely high number of ten pointers was left in the deck. He played five hundred, then a thousand a hand. Six minutes later he was up fifteen thousand, and the dealer shuffled. Elliott cashed in his chips, gave the dealer a couple of the hundred-dollar chips, then left the casino.

The rest of the team met him in the parking lot and they went somewhere-some other casino on the downtown Reno strip-to celebrate. Elliott got drunk and didn’t play any more. He was drained like a marathoner, and had to be helped to his motel room.

The next night he played for a longer time, with less money, and made $12,500. Raj, playing at another table with Carleen looking on, picked up $18,000.

They flew home with $45,500 in cash, carried by Silke and Carleen in plastic bags under their jackets. Airport security scared Elliott, but apparently the Reno screeners were used to seeing large amounts of cash on money belts. To draw notice to a tourist’s stash wouldn’t be good for Reno.

The girls had no problem.

Elliott’s share was $10,500 after expenses. He gave himself $500 for some books he needed and sent the rest to his father in Seattle, writing that he had been asked to do some consulting.

He went again in May and June, to the Mohawk casino in upstate New York, and to Loughlin, Nevada. Both times he came back with more than $10,000.

Raj became a friend. He was reliable and funny, impossible to dislike. Carleen hung around, sulky, right on the money with her job, though. The only problem was with Silke. He was in love for the first time in his life, and considering his personality, he thought maybe it would be the last time, too. But she and Raj were in love with each other, in a way he could only respect. Respect and suffer over.

Elliott picked up the phone again, wanting to hear Silke’s voice. The rain flowed down his window, and the calculations in front of him looked as blurry as the view. But he didn’t dare call her for the third time in three days. She’d be irritated. Raj would be irritated. They would be in touch when they had some information about the man in the mask.

Meantime, college had been over for two years, and Raj and Silke were still together. They would always be together, and Elliott’s job as third wheel was to avoid being a pudgy pest.

WISH SHOWED UP AT THE OFFICE on Monday afternoon, wearing his sunglasses and Paul’s old leather jacket, as Nina was ushering out her four o’clock.

“Coffee first,” Nina said. They went into the conference room next to her office and Wish pulled out his usual chair, next to where Paul used to sit. Sandy came in and shut the door. They all fixed espressos on the new machine standing in the corner. The windows streetside let in a fresh breeze and the sound of traffic stopping and starting at the light.

Wish passed out his report. He had his own new letterhead: “Whitefeather Investigations.” Naturally, a white feather was drawn under the new firm’s name.

“You’re the first people to see it. What do you think, Mom?”

Sandy said, “I never thought I’d see the day.” The side of her mouth twitched. She was thrilled.

“Are you going to rent an office?” Nina asked.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Wish said. “And you know, you don’t use this room much, and I’ll be in the field a lot. So just as a temporary move I, er, put down your address.” Now she saw it, just under the white feather.

Nina had to think about this. Wish wasn’t presumptuous, so why had he jumped ahead like that? Then she thought, He’s only twenty-five, he’s just gotten his license, and he needs to stay close to us. This conference room was the only office Wish had ever worked in, except for Paul’s in Carmel.

“You should have asked first,” Sandy said.

“It’s fine, Wish,” Nina said. “We just have to stay at arm’s length. We’ll do a written rent agreement and I’ll talk to the Starlake Building landlord.”

“Great! How much shall I pay a month?”

“ Sandy?” Nina said.

“Three-fifty,” Sandy said. Nina’s rent had recently gone up to twelve hundred dollars a month, not bad for a reception room, private office, and conference room in a small town.

“Let’s start at two hundred,” Nina said. “For the first six months.” Wish’s face broke into a big smile, and she saw how nervous he had been about his proposal.

“You’re the best,” he said. “And I’m going to give your work top priority. As soon as I get some other clients.”

“I’ll expect that. So-report.”

“I talked to Sergeant Cheney, South Lake Tahoe Police Department, Sunday. He was surprised the civil case was still pending. He said to say hi. The police report, the autopsy report, the coroner’s findings on the Hanna shooting are all attached.”

“That’ll help a lot. Did you notice anything of interest?”

“There’s plenty in there. Ballistics stuff. It was ruled a homicide by persons unknown. Mrs. Hanna was three months pregnant at the time. The best stuff is witness descriptions. The clerk, Meredith Assawaroj, had checked in this group of students who were the ones robbed. See the witness statement, right here.”

“Got it,” Nina said, thumbing through the pages.

“Meredith indicated that there were three people who checked in. A couple and a young man. The couple had one room and the man had a separate room.”

“Descriptions?”

“Pretty good ones. I think Meredith felt really bad about leaving her post at the desk that night. She still works at the Ace High, though.”

Nina was already reviewing the clerk’s description of the three witnesses.

“Sandy, let’s get this on a separate sheet,” she said. “The single one first. About five feet eleven, weight one-seventy, average build, blond hair, not too long, but hung in his eyes in front. No tattoos or piercings. White oxford shirt, jeans, hiking boots. Glasses. Backpack.”

“Generic kind of guy,” Sandy said. “Not conspicuous at all.”

“Wait till we get to the other two,” Wish said.

“She didn’t talk to the girl or her boyfriend at all, but Meredith heard this individual say something to one of the others. She thinks he said, ‘Professor Brown would love that.’ ”

“‘Professor Brown would love that,’ ” Sandy repeated thoughtfully. “So she decided they were students.”

“We’ll get to that. The couple was pretty conspicuous. Good-looking. The boyfriend did all the talking for the group. He paid cash for the two rooms. Meredith asked for a driver’s license and he gave her a fake ID. So did the other two. Meredith kept the copies and they’re attached.”

“It’s a New York license. The name is Mukul Dev,” Nina read. “Age is twenty-six. Address is-”

“Nonexistent,” Wish said. “Sergeant Cheney had it checked.”

“That’s an Indian name. East Indian, I mean.”

“We know what you mean,” Sandy said.

“Sergeant Cheney says it’s the name of a big star in Bollywood. The police checked him out, but he was in Mumbai working on the set of a musical that day.”

“Mumbai?” Sandy said.

Wish said, “ Bombay, Mom.”

“Then why not say so?”

“But our fake Indian actually was from India. At least, he looked that way to Meredith. I doubt she’s an expert.”

“Medium height, full lips, dark eyes, long eyelashes. Hmm. Gray slacks, black loafers. Blue dress shirt. Smiled a lot. Sort of British accent. She didn’t see his bag.”