Dead Man's Hand

by Luke Murphy

  The newsfeed triggered by his name meant another frame for another murder. He had to evade the cops—and he now had to keep ahead of whoever was trying to kill him.

  Calvin knew that going out to meet people was a risk no matter how careful he was. If he was spotted or didn’t detect that he was being tailed, then he was putting at risk not only himself but also the person he was visiting.

  He knew he never had to worry about Mike. The man was like a ghost and had select friends who knew what he really did. No one would ever trace him and he never left a trail to follow.

  But everyone else was exposed.

  Calvin picked up his untraceable phone and punched in the number.

  “Hello?” The voice was a raspy smoker’s.

  “Dixie?”

  “Calvin, is that you?” she whispered.

  “Can you talk?” He couldn’t take any chances.

  “For you, always.” Her voice regained a normal tone and volume.

  “I’m sorry to call, Dixie, but I couldn’t think of anyone else. You’re the one who persuaded Pitt to take me on when no one else would. You’re the only one in the office I trust.”

  “Thanks. Back then, I could talk Donnie into anything.” She grunted. “Boy, can I pick ‘em. I have a history of falling for the wrong man. Once Nathan was born, Donnie wanted no part of me.”

  Dixie was a single mother and Calvin had added her to the long list of reasons he hated Pitt.

  “What can I do?” she asked.

  “I do need something. But I don’t want to put you at risk. If you don’t feel comfortable helping me, I understand.”

  “Don’t be silly. I don’t believe for a second you’re capable of doing what they say.”

  “Thanks. Listen, I don’t want to open up old wounds, but I know that when you were with Pitt, he trusted you with everything.”

  “A lot changed since then.”

  “I know, but you might know something and don’t realize it.”

  “You want to know what Donnie was doing at his office that late?”

  He knew what Pitt was doing at his office.

  “That would have been me last year.” Her voice caught. “I can’t believe I thought he would leave his wife for me. That poor girl…”

  “Did you notice anything peculiar or out of the ordinary at all at the office?”

  “Donnie would never change.” She almost spit out the words. “He was always the same and even more so since our breakup. I can’t think of anything or anyone peculiar except Ace Sanders was in a lot more than usual. But that’s no surprise. He and Donnie were just right for each other.”

  Calvin had never trusted Sanders and had told Pitt that many times. But Pitt only saw the money at the end of the tunnel.

  Sanders without a doubt had an opportunity to kill Pitt.

  “Did Pitt ever talk about Sanders?”

  “Sure, lots of pillow talk. Donnie would open up afterwards.”

  “So what was their partnership like?”

  “Huh, I don’t think you could call it a partnership. Not according to Donnie. He didn’t trust him. In fact, he was terrified of the man. He had been hesitant about any business deals with him, but like usual, he let his greed win out. He said Ace was unpredictable and Donnie never knew what he was capable of.”

  Calvin heard her lighting a cigarette. She had quit two years ago when she had learned she was pregnant, but the murder must have sent her spiraling back. “Are you sure you haven’t seen anything suspicious at all?”

  He heard her take a drag from the cigarette.

  “No.” She hesitated a moment. “Wait, now that you mention it and since we’re talking about Ace, I did hear something one morning last week.”

  “Go on.” Calvin felt lucky.

  “I happened to be passing by the office when Ace was inside and I overheard a discussion. He said something about when he took over the Greek, Donnie would be his silent partner. When Donnie saw me, he raced across the room and shut the door.”

  “Are you sure that he said ‘when he took over the Greek’?”

  Dixie thought about it for a moment. “Pretty sure. I never thought about it again until I heard about Mr. Grant’s death.”

  “Can you think of anything else?”

  “Nah. Not really.”

  He knew she wanted to talk. Dixie was always either raising her kid or at work with no time for friends. Her life hadn’t exactly been a fairy tale.

  “So, has that boyfriend of yours proposed yet?”

  She spit out a laugh through the phone. “That’s done. Once he saw Nathan, he was gone.”

  Calvin regretted bringing it up. “You know, if I was single…”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. All you men are alike.” She chuckled. “Calvin, you take care of yourself. And if you need anything, promise you won’t hesitate to call.”

  “I promise. Thanks, Dixie.”

  He hung up. When this was all over, if it ended the way he hoped, then he would have to do something for Dixie and Nathan.

  Chapter 26

  Ace lay on his Golden Horseshoe Casino office sofa. His arm dangled over the side of the couch, his hand grasping a glass of expensive Scotch. He clinked the ice cubes in his drink and closed his eyes. A deck of cards was scattered across his 35K touch-screen, interactive multimedia coffee table.

  Ace’s sources on the LVMPD had just told him his hit man had failed. Ace would tell the hit man he wasn’t the only shooter and it would be easy to hire one to take Watters out. Watters would join Grant and Pitt. The longer Watters was alive and free, the more of a threat he became.

  But the setback had been evened out by his latest news. He had just bought a piece of the Greek.

  Grant must be rolling over in his grave.

  As a rule, a purchase as large as this one took days, sometimes weeks, to transpire. But Ace had the Nevada Gaming Commission expedite their review and give approval that afternoon. The contracts had been fast-tracked for signing and countersigning. He was now preparing for the press conference with Linda on the final sale.

  Gaming corruption was so great it was beyond any local or state control, though the constant effort was there to keep it clean. But the Commission could at least make sure that the casinos themselves were being bought and sold with all the legal proprieties observed.

  He had expected the Commission’s approval to be almost automatic. His purchase of part of the Greek was exactly what it appeared to be: legal, fair and not even close to monopolistic control over all the other Vegas casinos. The competition for gambling customers would be as free and fierce as before.

  He had to purchase his portion of the Greek Casino at fair market value, $40 million. That was a Commission requirement. A lot of money, but compared to the $250 million that had been his last offer to Grant for the entire Greek, much more affordable. It all meant smaller mortgage loans on the Golden Horseshoe and Midas and a much smaller cut of his operating cash flow from both casinos to pay it off. Even though the annoying Shawn Grant would have majority control and ownership, Ace’s net worth with three casinos would be much higher.

  His final purchase of his share of the Greek had not happened as he and Linda had planned, but they’d made it work anyway. With Linda selling him the shares that she already owned, which even Shawn couldn’t stop, he was in. No one would be able to stop him from a full takeover. He’d already worked out how to sabotage the other stockholders, gradually forcing them to sell him their shares. Shawn would be the hardest to take down, but Ace had no doubts about the outcome. He’d do whatever it took.

  So far, his plan had been flawless. There were only two remaining matters to deal with—Watters and another vulnerability that would need to be eliminated soon. Ace wasn’t going to risk what was turning into a fiasco. His top assassin was not able to find and kill Watters, after a day and a half. Killing a Vegas cop and the failed car bomb had only brought more police attention to the search for Calvin and made the hit man’s job more
difficult. The cops would start a new massive investigation into the murder of one of their own, in addition to looking for Calvin and all other suspects. That meant that the LVMPD was now probably at its highest state of alert, investigative effort and more motivated than they’d ever been, perhaps in decades.

  They all assumed that Watters was still in the city. By now, he could be in Europe. Ace’s only hope was that Watters would be too proud to let anyone push him out of Vegas. He thought that fit the most successful and terrifying collector that Pitt had ever employed. Watters was hiding, but not outside the city.

  Right now, killing Watters was Ace’s number one priority

  He had hoped the cop killing would make Watters a multiple-murder suspect, but the whole situation enraged him. He was not in control of too many things.

  Ace would tell the killer to kill or be killed and if he failed, he’d take out the assassin himself.

  Just then his untraceable phone rang. Only two people had the number.

  “Hello.”

  “It’s me.”

  “I know.” The assassin was never late with his check-in call. “You failed.”

  “It won’t happen again.”

  “No, it won’t. You’ve already killed a cop.”

  “The cop was collateral damage.”

  “Convince me you’ll get this done.”

  “I found out about Watters’ hooker. He’s bangin’ a local girl. I haven’t been able to locate her yet and other whores don’t seem to know where she is. I’m pretty sure she’s with Watters. If I find one, I find the other.”

  “So what now?” Ace asked.

  “I’m confident Watters is still in the city. I put the word out through my few trusted contacts who know about tracking. They’ve been working it and they haven’t received any data to indicate he’s gone. But I’m prepared to go on a long fugitive pursuit that could take me anywhere if it comes to that. Did you get the information I need?”

  “I did. It wasn’t easy. I found what you need in Pitt’s files, but even Pitt didn’t know where Watters conducted his business.”

  “I have my own methods of finding his location. Get it to me,” the assassin said.

  “I may need one of Pitt’s employees eliminated. She had Pitt’s personal USB and I don’t know if she looked at it. I doubt it though. The files were well hidden. I’ll let you know if the situation escalates. Watters is your only priority.”

  “Got it. It’ll be done very soon.”

  Scott spoke so easily about taking a life that Ace felt a strange, excited chill.

  “Mr. Scott, let me be clear. If you fail again, I will find out who you really are and I won’t just kill you, I’ll have everyone close to you tortured and terminated. You know I have the means to do it.”

  He hung up, thinking his assassin had an incentive to deliver, and glanced at his watch. He had a conference to attend.

  He got up from the couch and moved towards the windows. The soft, Italian leather of the new sofa exhaled as he stood. He opened the curtains and looked down over the Golden Horseshoe lobby to the main floor.

  Security was tight at both casinos. He’d buckled down with troops at the Golden Horseshoe because it was larger and easier to defend and protect. He could deploy many more security guards. He was not about to let Watters come in and destroy the place, or the Midas. Ace had doubled the guards to walk the floors. He would keep his ships running tightly until Watters was dead.

  As usual, the place was packed and the slot machines were being worn out by the hopeless losers looking to hit the jackpot. Didn’t they know the house always won?

  As he reached for his suit jacket, he noticed that his right shirtsleeve had turned a dark red. He had treated the scratch marks on his wrist and had changed into fresh bandages, but it hadn’t worked. As he pulled up his sleeve and removed the stained wrap, he noticed how deep the gashes were. He knew he couldn’t go to the hospital for stitches and explain the wound. Tonight he would call a doctor friend and ask if he could be stitched up at the man’s house.

  Had his skin flaked in a way that it could be found in Pitt’s office, on the floor or under the hooker’s nails?

  He cursed the woman and even more so himself for being so careless. He had allowed a struggle, a flaw in his perfect plan. Ace was not accustomed to being sloppy.

  Chapter 27

  After coming back from the hardest part of a police investigation, talking to the family of the murdered victim, Dale sat at his desk reading reports. One by one his team members came to check in with almost nothing to show for the day. He had to have something to inspire his aggravated group.

  Parker and Duncan had talked with Pitt’s wife.

  “Mrs. Pitt was cold and distant. She knew he was a cheating dog, but she stayed with Pitt because of the children. Also she shows no signs of being employable herself. Anyway—no help from her. She seemed happy that a hooker died. No surprise.”

  “So she has a motive?” Dale asked.

  “She didn’t kill her husband,” Parker stated without delay. “She has a solid alibi and is too fragile to do it anyway.”

  Dale agreed, but like everyone else who gained financially but didn’t have the strength for the killings, she could still have hired a killer. She was just playing the good wife and wanted her sleazy man dead.

  Smith and Ramirez reported that Pitt’s employees all had been hired off the street. Most of them have a criminal record of some sort, but no one seemed to hate Pitt. No one was too sorry he died. They all had solid alibis.

  They hadn’t seen unusual documents or visitors around the office. Sanders had made several appearances in the office to talk with Pitt, but that was routine.

  Dale thought the $30,000 in the safe was enough for Pitt’s employees to kill the boss. The killer was definitely looking for something in Pitt’s office.

  And again, Sanders’ name came up. The biggest problem: Sanders’ employees refused to talk while Pitt’s couldn’t stop.

  Lucas and Sanchez reported that many of the prostitutes knew the girl who had been killed and had Pitt as a client themselves. But none had any reason to kill Pitt.

  “They called her ‘Amber,’ but no one seems to know her real name. Just for fun, I flashed Watters’ picture around to see what kind of reaction I would get. One prostitute ID’d him. She said Watters has a soft spot for another whore. The streetwalker that I talked with said that he is more than just a client. The two are close. She goes by the name Chloe.”

  “Any luck finding her?”

  “No one had seen her all day, which is unusual.”

  Dale just went through the motions. He was sure Watters was with Chloe somewhere. Any man would think of his woman first. So why hadn’t Dale?

  Watters was such a good collector that there were few accounts outstanding—killers who wanted to erase a debt.

  “Watters had left his mark on the clients. A few were hobbled in some manner and even though they never admitted it, we assumed the injuries were from Watters. The gamblers were afraid to talk. Watters is more scary than jail. Even the few who still owe money are accounted for.”

  Edwards and Morris had interviewed private and public bookies. The general consensus was that no one liked Pitt, but no one felt threatened by his business.

  Harper and Elliot showed up before their night shift on Linda Grant. The lead officer got right to her report.

  “Linda Grant spends her days in high-end boutiques and her evenings in five-star restaurants getting wasted from the top shelf. She’s made very few phone calls—a couple to friends and family, her attorney and one to Shawn Grant to discuss the terms of the sale.”

  Dale wanted more information from this group. “Before I pulled you off the Grant questioning to put you on Watters’ stakeout, how far did you get with Grant’s attorney?”

  “Like we said before, Grant had made an appointment to see his lawyer for Tuesday morning. The attorney wouldn’t say what the purpose of the meeting was.
When we asked about a divorce, he couldn’t say because as Grant’s lawyer, he also represents Linda Grant. But I don’t think he really knew the purpose of the meeting.”

  Was Grant going to his attorney for divorce papers? Did the killer know about the meeting and murder him before the papers were filed and served, which would automatically bring the will into play? Grant’s death made the prenup null and void, while a divorce would cut Linda out of the will completely. His death, twelve hours or so before the appointment with his lawyer, was more than coincidental.

  “Okay, team,” said Dale. “Meet back here first thing in the morning. I hope to have something for all of you by then. Good night.”

  The group nodded and went home.

  He turned to Jimmy. “Well, partner. Our surveillance team has nothing to report either. We’re goin’ nowhere with this one and fast.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “You go home too. Spend some time with that pretty wife of yours. You and she both deserve a night together and a family dinner.”

  “What about you? Maybe you should do the same.”

  “Don’t tell me what I should do,” Dale snapped, his pulse quickened, but he caught himself.

  Jimmy’s wide eyes answered Dale.

  “Sorry, I’ll be fine. I’m just gonna finish up some paper work and go home too.”

  “All right, buddy. Have a good night.” Jimmy rushed from the office.

  Dale was alone in the detective bureau. He needed to get to the “basement.” The crew had turned up nothing useful from Watters’ car, so he hoped they could retrieve something from the bomb that had been planted underneath. Anything.

  He knew that spending excessive amounts of time on the job was one of the reasons why Betty had left. This investigation kept expanding at a dizzying speed. In less than forty-eight hours, four people had been murdered. He thought that more people were going to die soon. Because forty-eight hours had passed, his chance to solve Grant’s murder was, by the stats, cut in half. Two weeks without a break came close to a zero rate of success. The clock was ticking very loud. He still suspected two killers. Someone else had killed the police officer with a gun. A knife was close and personal. A gun was remote—it suited another kind of killer.