Luke Murphy - Dead Man's Hand

The detective waited for his name to be called.

“Dayton, get in here!”

He took his time walking toward his sergeant’s office, picking up Jimmy on the way.

The sarge was sitting at his desk watching the television when the detectives walked in. An unlit cigar hung from the side of his mouth. “Sit down, you two!”

Then he grabbed the remote control and turned up the volume on the television. Dale and Jimmy sat back and watched the full report on the Grant murder. The news crew did “man on the street” spots with scared citizens.

Then Dale watched as the mayor was interviewed and said they’d have an answer soon.

The sergeant hit mute. “Personally I don’t like the conniving little prick, but I’ll kiss his ass any chance I get. We’re in the middle of a political disaster. Grant was a major contributor to the mayor’s political campaigns and a close friend. The Greek was great PR for Vegas.” He was making his point by tapping his finger hard on the desk.

“I’ve assigned you twelve officers, Dayton. Here.”

The sergeant passed Dale a piece of paper. Dale recognized the names on the list. All of the officers were capable investigators. The latitude and assistance that was being given to him re-emphasized how big this case really was.

“Now get outta here and find somethin’.”

As he was walking out, his boss called him back.

“Dayton, don’t screw this up. And get that fuckin’ thing off my desk!” The sergeant pointed at the spit cup as Dale smirked and grabbed it.

Outside the office, ten of the twelve-man investigative team members caucused around Dale’s desk.

This was it—bumped up to top-grade detective, or proof positive he couldn’t handle a big case or higher ranking. This case would be either a career-maker or a career-killer.

He refocused. “Jimmy, let’s fill in everyone. First, nobody talks to anyone about this case. Duncan and Parker, take Grant’s son, daughter and ex-wife. His son, Shawn, has been running the Greek, so he should be a good source. What was Grant’s relationship like with his ex-wife and daughter? Don’t be shy, gentlemen.”

The officers nodded and left the huddle.

He turned to the next two in line. “Harper and Elliot, take Grant’s friends and pricey lawyer, although attorney/client privilege may stop him from saying anything at all. But seeing as how Grant was murdered, the lawyer might be authorized, or feel a moral obligation that most lawyers don’t, to say something. But I’m assuming this guy is both Grant’s and his wife’s lawyer.”

The team wrote down their assignment and departed.

Dale gestured toward two officers. “Smith and Ramirez, you take all employees, from pit bosses to cocktail waitresses.”

He paused for a moment and then continued. “Sanchez and Lucas.” The two stepped forward. “Rival casino owners.”

He turned to his two remaining officers. Edwards and Morris were Dale’s two most experienced members of his team. “I need you guys to go to Grant’s casino office and strip it to the walls. Go into the walls if needed. All of it comes back here. He’ll have a safe so take Mark with you. Here, take this.” Dale handed over the search warrant. “You’ll probably have to push Shawn Grant hard with the warrant to get into Grant’s office.”

“What are we gonna do?” Jimmy asked when the room was empty.

“We, my friend, are going to Grant’s private office.”

“Hunch?”

“Yeah. Hunch.” He picked up the phone and dialed his sergeant’s office. “I need phone records.”

Before they left, Dale turned to his youngest officer. “Craig, get me phone records from Doug, Linda and Shawn Grant, as well as Calvin Watters and Ace Sanders. I need local and long distance from their home, work and cell phones.”

Chapter 13

To save time, Dale brought a couple of members of the LVMPD forensic team. Having twice as many pros working the same office at the same time would expedite everything.

Dale flashed his badge at the guards, displayed the search warrant for Grant’s office and made his request. After carefully scanning the warrant and examining the badge, Dale, Jimmy and the two forensic experts were asked to sign in as the security guard fumbled for his keys.

“You two go ahead.” Dale indicated to the forensic unit.

The two men followed the security guard across the lobby floor and toward the elevators.

Dale checked the name tags on the security guards’ shirts. “Gus, Fred, I was wondering if my partner and I could ask you guys a few questions?”

The guards fidgeted.

“Just relax, fellas. We’re all on the same side here. Who was on duty this morning?”

The chubby one swallowed hard and answered. “We were, sir.” A drip of perspiration leaked from the guard’s forehead. The man looked as if he were going to blow a blood vessel.

“We want to know if a Winston Coburn III had a nine-thirty appointment with Grant this morning and if he had gone up to the private office.”

“He sure did.”

Quick answer.

The taller guard handed the guest list to Dale, who noticed the perfect penmanship. He gave the clipboard to Jimmy and continued with his questions.

“Do you remember what this guy looked like?”

“I sure do.”

He sighed. Evidently, the men had been trained to say as little as possible. He could tell that Jimmy was getting impatient too.

“We knew you’d be coming, so we prepared the video footage. Just come around.”

The detectives rounded the counter and joined the security guards behind the desk. The monitors, six in total, were mounted on the inside shelf.

“This monitor is from the front desk camera.” The guard used a remote to start the playback. He continued to speak as the footage ran. “He never looks directly into the camera, but as you can see, he’s big, maybe six-four or six-five. He was black.” The guard looked at Jimmy. “No offense.”

Jimmy shrugged. “That’s the color of his skin. Why would I be offended?”

The guard shook his head as Dale smiled.

“What’s with the clothes?” Dale pointed at the screen.

“Yeah, odd. He wore this big hat and dark sunglasses that covered up pretty much his entire face. Even with that long, thin coat, it was easy to tell he was built like a bulldozer. He must have been close to two-fifty. Couldn’t see his hair under the hat.”

Dale turned to Jimmy. “What do you think? Could be Calvin Watters?”

“It’s hard to tell. Like the guy says, he never looks into the camera or stands at an angle that would give us a good shot.”

“Calvin who?” The younger guard asked.

“Never mind. Did this guy show you any identification?”

“Of course. He showed us a pretty elaborate business card. He had a scheduled appointment and passed the security check. Did Coburn kill Mr. Grant?”

He ignored the guard’s question, thinking instead of Calvin Watters. He knew of Watters and this situation didn’t fit the collector’s profile. Watters had always remained under the radar, even with his job.

“Wait a minute. You said that Coburn was in here this morning. Doug Grant was killed last night. Why would you let a guy go upstairs when Grant wasn’t in his office?”

“Well, we called up and there was no answer. Just assumed since he had an appointment scheduled, that Mr. Grant had stepped out.”

Jimmy cut in. “I can’t hear the words, but it seems like Coburn kind of bullied his way up to Grant’s office.”

The guards looked at each other.

“But you didn’t see Grant go up.” Dale let them off the hook.

“Never do.”

“How’s that?”

“Office owners in this complex have privileged parking passes to the basement. They also purchase special elevator keys for the garage elevator that takes them straight to their offices. It’s a back way. We never see ‘em comin’ or goin’.”