On the floor next to me, sat a tray of dishes with silver covers. I bent over and lifted a cover. The plate below was empty—and clean. It didn’t look like there’d been any food on it at all. Which made sense, if it was simply a prop. Something a killer had used as part of their disguise.
In front of me was another opening, covered by the panel from the back of the closet in room 20102c. Reversing the process, I was able to slide the back panel of that closet open. Here were my mother’s clothes. Pushing them aside, I stepped into the closet and then popped open that door. I was in my mother’s original room. I was in the suite where Sonny had been killed.
“Noah! Where are you?”
It was my mother. I guess it had been a while, so she must have come into the room looking for me. I’d probably worried her.
“I’m in here.”
“You’re in the closet?”
“Yes. No jokes.”
I heard the closet door open. “What do you mean jokes? And—oh my God!”
I opened the closet door on my end and looked through to see my mother standing in the space between the rooms.
“This is very disturbing,” she said. “I slept in here last night.” Meaning the bedroom behind her, not the secret passage. “Anyone could have—and I slept in there the night before,” pointing at the bedroom I was in. “Anyone could have…”
“Yes, but no one did.”
“This is how those servants got in to kill Sonny?”
“Mom, I don’t think they were servants. I think they were paid killers.”
“Yes, I understand that,” she said frowning. “Doesn’t it seem odd to you. Professional killers going to such extremes?”
“What do you mean ‘extremes’? It’s extreme to throw someone off a balcony.”
“Exactly. A professional killer would simply shoot their victim in the back of the head and leave. No muss, no fuss.”
Where did she get these ideas? I wondered. I mean, she was right. Professional killers weren’t a perfect fit. But then, nothing was.”
“It has to have something to do with the money,” I said, going back to basics.
For some reason my mother frowned. “When you were watching the tape, did you see a suitcase? Do you have any reason to believe the money was taken? Or even moved?”
“No.”
“So, if we’re right in thinking that Sonny is the one who swapped the suitcases, then the money was in his room. Becky has it.”
“But the police searched her room. They didn’t find it.”
Then she said, solemnly, “I think it’s time we have a talk with Cotton.”
We went back into the suite my mother was now staying in and told everyone about the secret passage. Of course, they all had to see it and speculate about it. Basically, they covered the same territory my mother and I had. Except Leon, who kept remarking on how sexy the whole thing was. Something I didn’t agree with. Meanwhile, my mother went to find Cotton. It was almost a full half hour later when they came back to the suite.
“Would you like some Shit-Faced Fruit Salad?” Marc asked. Cotton glared at him as though he just suggested a naked run through the fountain at the Mirage.
“All right everyone,” my mother said. “If you wouldn’t mind being quiet a moment. Cotton has something he’d like to get off his chest. Go ahead, dear.”
I have to say, he looked a bit panicked, his eyes darting around the room and sweat breaking out on his forehead. To his credit, he cleared his throat and began, “Yes, I do have something to say.”
And then he didn’t say anything for a long moment. I began to wonder, as I’m sure my friends were, was he about to confess to murdering Sonny? Or rather, paying Sonny’s killers, since we knew he was in his own room when Sonny died. What was he going to—
Finally, he began. “As you may know, Sonny did work for some reprehensible characters. But then, you can’t practice law and expect to only represent the innocent. This is real life, not Perry Mason.”
He paused again. All of us were quiet. Most of us held fruit salad in our hands. None of us were eating it anymore.
“An opportunity arose, and Sonny decided to take it. He didn’t tell me about it until it was a fait accompli. I would have advised against it, of course. It’s not terribly hard to justify morally, but it was terribly dangerous. Stealing from thieves, as it were…”
At this point, Louis stopped him, “Exactly what was the opportunity that arose?”
“What? I’m not sure—”
“Dear, you left out the part about the girl,” my mother nudged.
“Oh. I see. Yes, of course. Sonny was involved with a young woman. Actress, model, something of that sort. She paid her rent as a courier for The Outfit. I’m not sure if he helped her get that… position, or if he met her through his work with the firm. It’s not important, I suppose. What is important is that about six weeks ago, this young woman was arrested in a Rush Street nightclub on a drug charge, small-time stuff, personal use. She called Sonny immediately. She’d already picked up the package and was leaving for Las Vegas on a red-eye.”
He licked his lips; they looked very dry. He asked my mother for a glass of water and, once it was in hand, continued, “Before a search warrant for the girl’s apartment could be issued, and before The Outfit knew what was happening, Sonny went there and took the money. The apartment was searched the next day. Sonny made sure everyone thought the officers who searched the apartment had taken the money and divvied it up.”
“So, Sonny has been holding onto the money for six weeks?”
“Yes. He called me and asked for my help. Obviously, you can’t just deposit that kind of cash into your bank account. We made a plan to tuck the money away. Offshore.”
“The wedding was just a cover story?” I said, suddenly seeing things in a new light. “You came to pick up the money and deliver it offshore.”
“Oh no, no, it wasn’t a cover story, not at all. I wanted to marry your mother. I did. I do. The only thing that changed was how and when.”
“Do the girls know any of this?” Marc asked.
“No. Nothing at all.”
“You didn’t tell them? Even when they were accusing my mother of murder?”
“It would have put them in danger. It would have put us all in danger.”
“But telling us now doesn’t put us in danger?” I asked.
“Running around playing detective has already put you in danger. You need to stop. Telling you is the only way I can think to do that.”
There was an uncomfortable pause. After a moment, Cotton felt the need to fill it. “These are not good people. I feel terrible about what happened to Sonny, but he did bring it—”
“So, do you work for The Outfit, too?” I asked.
His jaw tightened. “I have, occasionally, done work for The Partnership in Detroit.”
“Who are they?” Marc asked.
“Allies of The Outfit,” Cotton said.
“Aren’t they all just the Mafia?” Aunt Katie asked.
“In a sense, yes, but also no—”
“I don’t think organized crime is as organized as we think,” Louis said.
“It was for the family, Angie. You have to understand that.” She smiled at him, then rested a hand on his shoulder. It made me feel I should do something encouraging like that—even if I didn’t particularly mean it just then.
I walked over and said, “I know that was hard.” To set an example, I held out a hand for him to shake and he just looked at it in horror. I began to ask what was wrong, but then I realized: He knew I was HIV positive. He knew and he didn’t want to touch me.
Had he ever touched me? Quickly, I thought back through the visit. I remembered him waving at me at when we met them at the airport, which didn’t seem odd at the time. I remembered him touching other people: Sonny, my mother, his daughters, Tina—but never me. In fact, I didn’t remember him even being very close to me. Ever.
20
; To cover the embarrassing moment, Cotton said, “Well, the important thing is that it’s over. The Outfit has gotten their money back and exacted their revenge on Sonny. They’ll leave the rest of us alone.” And then, after the briefest of pauses, he added, “Provided you stop poking around.”
I withdrew my hand and glanced at my mother. She’d seen it happen. Seen him recoil. I couldn’t read the look on her face. She ushered Cotton out of the room, promising she’d be back before they left for the airport.
Just as they were leaving, Cotton said, “I’m sorry to have to do this, but after talking to Sonny’s firm in Chicago, I’m afraid your rooms are only paid for until this afternoon. Of course, you can extend your stay at your own expense if you’d like—"
“I’m sure they understand Cotton,” my mother said, closing the door behind them. And they were gone.
“So that’s it? The Outfit killed Sonny?” Louis said.
“Apparently. And we need to pack,” Marc agreed.
“Do we want to stay another night?” I asked. I suspected that along with our rooms, our winning streaks were probably over too.
“I’ll stay,” Leon said.
“I think I’m happy to leave,” Louis said.
Which should have decided it—since he was driving—but Leon kept on. “We could easily move to cheaper rooms. For that matter, we could move to a cheaper hotel.”
“I don’t know,” Marc said. “I’ve had a good time—apart from the murder, of course—but I think it’s probably time to go.”
“You could always stay and catch a flight back to L.A.,” Tina suggested to Leon.
“Oh, no, I’ll go home too. It wouldn’t be any fun here alone.”
Which I thought was odd since he’d spent half his time in Las Vegas gambling alone. That’s when something hit me, something I knew but hadn’t looked at in the right light.
“Reba had a room.”
“Yeah, we know that,” Tina said.
“Do you remember the girls talking about how Reggie would mess with the staff when they were children?”
They agreed with me, so I went on. “Becky sent Sonny to my mother’s suite.”
“We know that, too,” Marc said.
“What are you getting at?” Louis asked.
“We saw Reba and Becky leave their rooms well before Sonny’s death. What if they went to Reba’s room? And what if Reggie had stolen the maids’ uniforms? And the waiter’s outfit? What if they changed and then came up a service elevator to the penthouse floor?”
“And no one can prove that because this is the only floor with cameras,” Leon said.
“So, you’re saying it wasn’t two women and a man? I don’t know, Noah, Reggie’s tall but she wouldn’t make a convincing man,” Tina pointed out.
“She didn’t have to be convincing. The security camera is never very close,” I pointed out.
“Oh my God,” Marc said. “They planned the whole thing. And then they did it together!”
“No, they couldn’t have,” Louis said. “The three of them barely get along.”
“The sisterly bond is much stronger than you think,” Tina said. “My sister and I are very close.”
“You barely speak to your sister,” I pointed out.
“I said we were close. I didn’t say we could stand each other.” Which sort of made the point.
“And they did it for the money?” Louis guessed.
“Not just the money,” Tina said. “Sonny was a cheating bastard. The money just made it easier.”
“We all assumed the money was in Sonny’s room,” Marc said. “We must have been right.”
“And they kept it in the room that Reba had,” Leon said.
“But how did the money get from Sonny’s room to the extra room? We didn’t see anyone with a suitcase.”
“The maid’s cart,” I said. “In the video, the girls dressed as maids kept going in and out of rooms. One of them went into Sonny and Becky’s room and put the suitcase under the cart—”
“And swapped it for one of the matching suitcases,” Marc guessed.
“Becky had to have known about the money before the trip,” Louis said. “This took a lot of planning.”
“And conference calls,” Leon said. “Since they weren’t all in the same place.”
“We have to hurry,” I said. “They’re at the airport about to get on a flight to Chicago.”
“And then who knows where,” Marc said.
“Somewhere without an extradition treaty,” Louis said, right before we ran out of the suite.
It seemed as though it took forever to retrieve the car from the valet. We kicked ourselves for not figuring this out earlier, though Becky had always been high on our list.
“I always knew it was a conspiracy,” Leon said.
“Oh, you did not,” Marc said.
“How do you know what I did and did not know?”
“As I recall, you thought it was Cotton,” I pointed out.
“I thought it was Cotton and possibly others.”
Shaking my head, I said, “Whatever.”
Finally, a valet drove up in Marc’s Infiniti. Louis made a point of tipping, Leon made a point of ogling, Marc rolled his eyes. Meanwhile, Tina and I crawled into the backseat.
“Could we possibly hurry?” I said. “The bad guys might get away.”
That resulted in Louis screeching out of the casino onto what I think was Sahara Boulevard and across three lanes of traffic.
“Louis!” Marc screamed over the blaring horns.
Crushed between Leon and Tina, I said, “Leon, use your mobile phone to call Detective Ryland.”
“What? No!”
“Why not?”
“It’s daytime and they charge roaming. It would cost a fortune.”
“Then why do you even have one of those things?” Honestly, it seemed absurd to have a mobile phone and then never use it.
“It’s for emergencies.”
“I just told you to call the police!”
Marc chimed in. “He means boy emergencies. Oh my God, Louis, slow down.”
We screeched around a corner, Leon crushing me into Tina who said, “Could you try to stay on your side of the car?”
“It’s called gravity, dear,” Leon said. Then he caught me staring at him, and said, “Fine, I’ll do it.”
I took Detective Hyland’s card out of my wallet and read Leon the number. He poked the number into the phone, then put it up to his ear. A moment later, he said, “Yes, Brace please.” A slight pause. “It’s Noah Valentine. He knows me. He knows me very well.”
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“He’s more likely to come to the phone if he thinks it’s a personal call.”
“That’s probably true,” Tina said.
“Then use your name.”
“I hate to get involved—yes, hello Detective Ryland, we’ve discovered who the murderers are and they’re about to leave—”
He waited, then, “Yes, I said murderers. Becky, Reba and Reggie Cotton. They worked together to throw Sonny off the balcony at Lucky—”
Leon scowled. “Well, if you’ll let me, I’ll tell you. The three of them lured Sonny to Angie—my mother’s suite. They dressed as employees of the hotel and entered through a secret passage—yes, I said secret passage. Look, the important thing is they’re getting on a flight to Chicago in a few minutes and you may never be able to find them.”
Obviously, Ryland asked what Leon meant by that, because he said, “Well for one thing they’ve got a million dollars in cash that they’ve stolen from the mob. If they get on the airplane you’ll never see them again.”
Leon listened a moment and then said, “Wonderful. Thank you so much. Gotta go now. Bye!”
After he clicked off, he turned to me and said, “He’s sending a squad car.”
“That’s all?” I said.
“Given his tone you’re lucky he didn’t arrest you for making a false report.”
“But I didn’t make a report, you did!”
“At your request.”
“We’re here,” Louis said from the front seat. I looked up and we were driving into the red brick, black-glassed airport. He pulled the car into a pickup only zone and we all jumped out of the car.
“You’re just going to leave the car here?” Marc asked.
“We’ll worry about that later,” Louis said. “We have to stop them.”
“But Louis—”
Louis didn’t answer since he was running into the terminal. We ran after him. Tina yelled out that we should look at the departure screens to see what gate we had to find. Of course, we didn’t know what airline they were flying, but I suggested we start with Delta, since that’s the airline Cotton and my mother had come in on. It made sense that he might have frequent flyer miles and want to get credit for the very expensive tickets he’d bought his daughters.
Quickly, I found the flight. It was leaving in twenty-two minutes, but that didn’t matter because it also said CANCELLED.
“I told you they wouldn’t be able to fly to Chicago,” Leon said.
“Right. So what do you guys think they’d do?”
“Well, if it was me, I’d be at the Delta desk trying to cash in my ticket,” Tina said. “Then I’d buy myself a ticket on the next plane out no matter where it’s going.”
I looked around the airport for signs. I found what I wanted, and said, “Ticketing is that way.”
We rushed through the airport. It was quite a way. About halfway there, we ran by a row of slot machines, which shocked me. At the airport?
Leon glanced at them and said, “I’ll want to hit those on the way out.”
“Oh my God,” Marc said. “You have to stop.”
“I’m up! By thousands!”
“Because the people at Lucky Days made sure you were,” Marc continued. “At the airport, you’re a nobody. You’re not going to win.”
“Well, we’ll see about that, won’t we?”
“There!” Louis said. “Ticketing is down there.”
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