Baxter needed to be punished somehow.
CHAPTER 35 (Full Holiday Mode)
On Friday morning I realized that my peripheral responsibilities with Steve Carling were now fully completed. Last evening I had given him back his smart phone and we had ripped up the documents I had prepared relating to Schenteck’s other company.
Getting rid of the smart phone was a big relief. Even though the thing never rang until the closing crisis, I hated knowing that it was constantly in my pocket waiting to disturb me. Rather than viewing it as my portal to the world, to me it was like a bothersome hemorrhoid stuck to my ass.
I had said a final goodbye to Steve and Maria last evening and indicated to them that I’d be leaving Las Vegas today. I felt that it was easier to tell a white lie about my travel plans since I didn’t want the happy couple to feel that they needed to entertain me during the remainder of my winter escape.
I was now in full holiday mode.
My stay at the Downtown Grand was also over. I debated whether to remain here for a few more days or move over to a different hotel.
In the past I had often stayed at the Las Vegas Club or Binion’s but those two establishments weren’t currently offering rooms. Binion’s was now just a casino with the hotel portion left dark, and the Las Vegas Club was totally closed for renovations.
While I ate breakfast at Magnolia’s in the Four Queens, I decided to rent another car and drive to Mesquite for a couple of days. I hadn’t been there in many years.
I dropped in to the Golden Nugget and rented a car for three days. Then I drove back to the Downtown Grand, packed my things and checked out of the hotel.
It was a sunny and moderately warm day.
I took Interstate 15 and arrived in Mesquite at one o’clock.
The first two spots I stopped at were booked up but I managed to get an inexpensive room at the Virgin River Casino.
Since I had already driven around the town, I played slots for the rest of the afternoon and then had supper in the buffet. I never even left the hotel complex.
On Saturday morning I ate an early breakfast and then drove to Zion National Park in Utah. I arrived there just before eleven o’clock and spent the day immersed in panoramic splendor. I had never before seen such an amazing landscape.
I took a couple of the walking trails and was quite exhausted by the time I drove back to my hotel in Mesquite.
I ate supper in the coffee shop and then played slots during the evening while drinking beer.
Tonight Lady Luck was by my side. I moved around to several different machines and none of them were duds. It was one of those nights when every machine was kind to me.
By the time I decided to call it a night just before midnight, I had made a gambling profit of just over $100.
Tomorrow I’d return to Las Vegas and get a room somewhere. This side trip had been marvelous. The slot wins were nice but by far the highlight had been Zion National Park.
CHAPTER 36 (Muscle Man)
Guenther Schenteck called Willy Fraunz into his office on Monday morning, the 19th of February.
“Willy, it’s time that Scott Baxter was penalized for causing us so much trouble.”
“What do you have in mind, boss?”
“I want you to hire a guy to rough Baxter up. I don’t want him killed or permanently injured, but I do want him to suffer some pain.”
“I really don’t have any connections with local enforcers, Mr. Schenteck.”
“You must know someone who’d be willing to beat Baxter up for a few hundred bucks.”
“My niece has a boyfriend who belongs to a motorcycle gang. He’d probably be happy to take on the job since he’s always short of cash.”
“See if you can find out where Baxter is staying. When he showed up here at the office he mentioned that he was staying at the El Cortez. If you locate him, then provide your niece’s boyfriend with Baxter’s picture.”
“Do you want Baxter beat up enough to be taken to the hospital?”
“That’s not necessary just in case your boy overdoes it a bit. I just want Baxter roughed up and in pain.”
“Should our guy rob him at the same time?”
“That’s tempting but I don’t want the cops investigating too thoroughly. I just need to feel that Baxter has suffered in some way. For maximum satisfaction, our guy will have to take a few pictures once he’s worked Baxter over. He should make it look like a random act of violence against a stranger and nothing more. If the pictures he takes are good enough, then you can offer him a $600 bonus on top of the $400 he’ll earn just for agreeing to take on the job.”
“I’ll get right on it, boss.”
Willy pulled a burner phone and began checking at the various downtown hotels. He finally discovered that Scott Baxter was staying at the Plaza.
He called his niece’s boyfriend, a loser named Russell who went by the nickname “Rusty” and was in between jobs at the moment.
Rusty was pleased for the opportunity to earn a bit of under-the-table cash and he met with Willy that afternoon. Willy paid Rusty the first $400 and handed him a picture of Scott Baxter. Willy also gave Rusty detailed instructions about the severity of the beating that he was to administer.
“I’d suggest that you don’t hurt him too badly but mess up his face so you can get some pictures of your handiwork. You won’t earn the bonus unless it’s clear that Baxter has endured some real pain.”
“It ain’t easy knowing just how much of a beating it takes to hurt an old guy but not kill or cripple him.”
“It’s in everyone’s best interest, especially yours, that you don’t overdo it. The cops won’t put any effort into their investigation if a victim isn’t badly hurt.”
“When do you want the job done?”
“The target is from Canada so we don’t know when he’ll be going home, so the sooner you get the job done, the better.”
“I’ll see if I can find him today.”
“Call me on my burner once you’ve found him and then continue to keep me posted on how things are going. I don’t have to remind you to be discreet. The less time you spend following him, the less chance that he’ll get suspicious or that anyone will notice that you’re stalking him.”
Later that afternoon Willy received a call from Rusty. He had spotted Baxter and was waiting for the right opportunity to get the job done.
CHAPTER 37 (Danger Lurks)
I slept in on Sunday morning, had the breakfast buffet in the hotel and then checked out.
On the way back to Vegas I took a detour and drove Highway 169 past Logandale and Overton. Then I darted into Valley of Fire State Park to see the scenery there before returning to Las Vegas via Highway 169.
It made for a very enjoyable afternoon and I was back in downtown Las Vegas by four o’clock.
I decided to get a room for the next seven nights at the Plaza, another hotel where I’d stayed a couple of times in the past.
I was quite tired from the weekend driving excursion. I ate supper in the Plaza buffet and then came right back to my room where I read another novel on my E-Reader before hitting the sack at ten o’clock.
On Monday I had breakfast over at Magnolia’s in the Four Queens. Then I wandered down to the El Cortez and played Caveman Keno slots for a few hours.
When I got back to my hotel room at two o’clock I brushed my teeth and then decided to go for a walk. It was a sunny and mild day and I felt that I needed some exercise.
I left the Plaza and crossed Main Street. My main choices for my walk were to head east past the El Cortez or go south on Main Street.
I decided to walk south.
After about ten minutes on Main Street, I opted to walk east after all and began heading down a side street. This area was mostly residential with the occasional unkempt rental building.
It surprised me. I knew that real estate prices in Las Vegas used to be astronomical back in 2006. Apparently the nasty real estate downturn had decimated pro
perty values because the homes and apartments in this particular area were very poorly maintained.
There was no pedestrian or vehicular traffic and many of the houses appeared to be vacant.
After I’d walked a block or two, one solitary motorcycle passed me and turned off on the next street.
A minute later when I arrived at that intersection, a big man also approached the same corner from the other street. I kept my eyes down, not wishing to make any eye contact in this dicey neighborhood.
The next thing I knew, a fist drove into my stomach and took my breath away. Before I could even look up and identify my assailant, punches began peppering my face and head. I felt myself being dragged away from the intersection and into an alley.
I couldn’t yell because I had no wind in my lungs. I felt myself being hit repeatedly for a moment or two and then I passed out.
…
Rusty smiled as he rode past his target. The idiot was making every tourist mistake imaginable. He was walking alone on a quiet street. The only thing missing was the cover of darkness.
Rusty pulled his hog into the next street and moved it into the driveway of a boarded-up home.
Then he walked back to the street where Scott Baxter was taking his stroll.
No cars or people were anywhere nearby.
As Rusty arrived at the street corner simultaneously with Baxter, the two men were only a few feet apart.
Baxter wasn’t even paying attention when Rusty drove his fist into the other man’s stomach. A few quick shots to Baxter’s face incapacitated the old fart.
Rusty then partly dragged and partly carried Baxter to the backyard of the derelict house.
He then lay a solid beating on the chap, making sure to bloody up his face as much as possible.
When he was satisfied with his handiwork, Rusty took some quick photos of his victim, hopped on his Harley and got out of Dodge.
No one was around to witness the assault. It was a perfect crime.
For a moment Rusty had been tempted to steal the man’s wallet, but remembered Willy’s warning about that. Leaving Baxter’s money intact would reduce the chances of an intensive police investigation.
As soon as Rusty got home, he emailed the pictures to Willy and inquired as to when he could collect his bonus.
Ten minutes later Willy phoned to say that he’d bring the rest of the money around right away.
When Willy arrived, he made Rusty permanently delete the pictures and email and then he made Willy destroy the phone which was also a burner.
The bonus money was duly paid.
When Willy returned to the office, his boss was ecstatically pleased with the job that Rusty had done.
Scott Baxter had paid the price for insulting Guenther Schenteck even though the insolent shyster would never know for sure that his beating had been payback.
Guenther tacked up the clearest of the pictures on the inside door of his private washroom. Now whenever he took a dump, he could look up and be reminded of his successful revenge. Nobody insults Guenther Schenteck without paying a price.
CHAPTER 38 (Bloody and Sore)
My eyes flickered open but I was momentarily unable to move. It hurt to turn my head but I quickly realized that I was on the ground in somebody’s backyard.
I was sore all over. My abdomen was on fire and my face felt like I’d just gone ten rounds with Roberto Duran.
For a few minutes I simply tried to breathe normally.
Eventually I sat up. I tried to recall what had happened but the only memory I could dredge up was the vague image of a big man approaching me at the street corner. I hadn’t even seen the brute’s face.
I was in too much pain to stand up so I just sat still in order to regain my strength.
This was the first time in my life that I’d ever been beaten up. In fact I’d only been in three fights in my life, all losses back when I was still in school. In those days all it took to end a fight were the words “I give up,” which meant that I’d never been hurt.
I guess the rules of combat had changed since my youth. This brute hadn’t even given me the opportunity to give up.
When those nostalgic memories had faded, it dawned on me that I had likely been robbed. My attacker was probably using my credit card already to purchase stuff.
That thought gave me the incentive to stand up.
I groaned mightily as I hefted myself onto my feet. Both of my eyes were beginning to swell up. All I could do was squint.
I felt my right-hand pants pocket and discovered that my wallet was still there.
Gingerly I extracted it and was shocked to see that my money and credit card were still present.
That was a major relief.
I reached back up to my face and realized that I wasn’t wearing my glasses.
I looked around on the ground but there was no sign of them.
My legs weren’t injured and as far as I could tell, no bones were broken. I tried walking a few steps and found that my mobility was intact although my stomach area throbbed with each step I took.
Since my current location was dangerous and since Main Street was only a couple of blocks away, I gingerly began retracing my steps. When I got to the end of the driveway of this vacant house, I was momentarily disoriented. This street was unfamiliar to me.
As I looked around, I saw a cross-street about fifty feet away. I slowly made my way there and recognized that this was the spot where I had been assaulted.
My glasses were on the ground and I picked them up. They seemed none the worse for wear. It was too painful to put them on so I stuffed them in my pants’ pocket.
I looked to my left and saw that Main Street was in sight. By the time I reached it, I had decided not to flag down a passing motorist or a taxi. My hotel was only ten minutes away and I preferred to get there on my own steam and forget about this unfortunate incident.
Fortunately there were no pedestrians on Main Street until I reached the bus depot. I remained on the opposite side of the street which was quiet and I entered the Plaza through the south entrance.
There were restrooms just inside the entrance so I went in the men’s room which was empty. My face was a bruised and bloody mess.
I washed the blood off my face which was quite painful to do but at least doing so vastly improved my appearance.
In order to avoid having to walk through the main casino, I took the south elevator up to the mezzanine level and then walked to my own bank of elevators.
Few people saw me and none of those asked me what had happened to my face.
When I got inside my room, I peeled off my clothes and had a long shower.
Even after cleaning myself up in the shower, my face looked terrible. Luckily none of my teeth had been knocked out or even loosened.
I crawled into bed and fell asleep.
When I woke up, it was eight o’clock and I was starving.
I got dressed and ordered supper from room service. When it arrived, I handed the fellow his tip through the door and told him that I’d bring the cart in myself. I didn’t want anyone to see my injuries.
The food hit the spot. Any pain that I felt in my abdomen was overcome by the pleasure of exterminating my hunger.
Luckily I had purchased a twelve-pack of beer from the nearby ABC Stores on Sunday after I checked in to the Plaza.
As I sipped beer tonight, I tried to analyze why I was so reluctant to contact the police.
My tentative conclusion was that I was embarrassed for having been sucker-punched and that I had absolutely no physical description to provide to the cops. Another part of my brain was also berating me for going for a walk alone in a poor area of a large city.
Eventually my thoughts turned to Guenther Schenteck. Although it would be impossible to prove, this beat-down might have been orchestrated by him as retribution for squeezing the $98,000 out of his wallet.
The more I thought about it, the more I came to believe that Guenther was behind my attack.
If that was the case, then at least he hadn’t instructed Bigfoot to kill me or rob me.
The beer greatly assuaged my physical pain and my mental anguish. By the fourth can I had decided to drop the matter and get on with my life.
Beating myself up with remorse and seeking revenge against Schenteck were both unproductive uses of my time and energy.
CHAPTER 39 (Low Profile)
I was incredibly sore on Tuesday morning when I woke up. Fortunate enough rarely to get headaches, I hadn’t brought any pain pills on the trip nor had I purchased any in Vegas.
I could sorely use some now, no pun intended.
I looked at my poor face. The cuts had scabbed over and my appearance was quite hideous. I couldn’t bring myself to go out anywhere in public.
I ordered room service and spent all day in the room. I did venture out into the hallway while the maid cleaned by room in the afternoon.
The assault was ruining this portion of my vacation and that began to anger me.
By suppertime I was antsy to go somewhere.
Despite my banged-up face, I ate in the diner at the Plaza and then walked down to the El Cortez to play some slots.
It felt as if everyone was staring at me but that was probably just my imagination running wild. Generally people don’t give a shit what other folks look like.
I gorged myself on Bailey’s coffees with whipped cream and that erased my self-consciousness like magic.
By my fourth spiked coffee, I was in a smiling frame of mind and the waitress worked up the nerve to ask me what happened to my face.
“I was mugged yesterday afternoon while out for a walk,” I replied.
“Did they rob you?”
“It was just one large man who sucker-punched me on a quiet street and then worked me over in an alley. He left my wallet intact.”
“Did the cops catch him?”
“I didn’t even bother to report it. I managed to walk back to my hotel on my own and wouldn’t have been able to give the police any description other than the chap was big. I’ve learned a lesson the hard way. Don’t walk alone on deserted streets.”
Lady Luck Loves Lawyers Page 10