“That’s highly unlikely.”
Mark said into his cuff mic. “I want someone calling every one of these guests up here and telling them to stay in their rooms and do not come out.”
Antonio spoke into his BlackBerry, “Can you see him through the spyhole on the door?”
“I’m not going up to the door,” said Max. “What if he shoots through it?”
“Tell him stay away from the door,” Mark said to Antonio, “he might shoot through it.”
Antonio changed tactics. “Where are you located within the suite, Max?”
“I’m as far away as I can get from the door. I’m on the balcony with the rest of my clothes.”
Antonio chose not to question him regarding his clothing relocation. “Stay there; we have help on the way.”
Max asked, “Did you call some of your Navy Seal buddies?”
“We’ve contacted the State Police, I’ll call you when they arrive, and I am not affiliated with the Navy Seals.”
“Word travels fast,” said Mark. Into his cuff mic he said, “Don’t use the camera in the corner to watch him, it looks straight down and I want to know where that gun is at all times. Yes I know he’s still banging on the door I can hear him.”
From the hallway came the distant cry, “Come OUT I wanna see your FACE so I can bust a fuckin CAP into it!”
Mark grunted. “That didn’t rhyme at all.”
Antonio crept forward and opened the door to the hallway just enough to peer through. He could see Brandon at the far end of the hall: shirtless, black silk boxer shorts, pacing round and round in a tight circle.
Mark squeezed beside Antonio. “Looks like a Taurus 45 ACP. Pretty gun. Think he can use it?”
“Well enough,” said Antonio, distracted by the finishing touches of a plan. “Mark, call off the State Police.”
“What are you gonna do, jab him with a penlight?”
“I have an idea to bring this to a safe and profitable conclusion.”
“An idea that might save your job?”
“If all goes well.”
“I’m game.” Mark immediately radioed Security Dispatch via his cuff mic. “M1 to base. I want all State Troopers to stand down. Repeat. All State Troopers stand down for the 10-21 in the Villas.” A moment later he received confirmation in his earbud. “Okay. Now what?”
“Call the Fire Department on the reservation and get them ready to engage the emergency fire doors on this floor.”
Mark smiled. “This is better than apple fritters.” He used his BlackBerry to call the Chief Fire Marshall directly. It took some convincing. “I don’t want alarms, I don’t want emergency lights, I just want the doors activated on command.” He listened. “Let’s call it a test.” Pause. “I owe you one, stand by.” He muted the phone. “His finger is on the button. Now what?”
“Do you recall the story the undercover detectives told us about the team who was stealing cash-out slips from slot machines?”
“Yea. The sister distracted the players while the brothers snatched the slips.”
“I am going to employ a similar method with Brandon.”
“No offense, but your tits aren’t that great.”
“When I give the signal tell your man to hit the button.”
Mark said, “You’re gonna get shot. I’m coming with you.”
“I need you here on the phone. We have to time this precisely.”
“What’s your blood type? I’ll call ahead to the hospital.”
“Your confidence is invigorating.” Antonio took a deep breath, tugged on his shirt cuffs, righted his cufflinks, and made a minute adjustment to his bowtie.
“You’re fidgeting.”
“It soothes my nerves.”
“Want me to go and you make the call?”
“It is my duty to attend to the needs of my guests. In all scenarios.”
“Your duty stinks.” Mark laughed. “Hey did you hear how that came out?”
Antonio smiled. “Thank you, I needed that.” He opened the door and stepped into the hallway, allowing the door to come to rest slightly ajar so as not to impede Mark’s view. “Brandon, if I may have a word?”
Brandon swung around, brandishing his gun. “Back the fuck up, tuxedo boy.” He pointed the gun at the door of the corner Villa. “I want this dude to step out and man up. I know Shannon spent the night in there – the EMTs told me! With no clothes and eating chocolate!”
Antonio began to slowly walk down the hall. “That is all true, however, she was quite alone. The individual you currently have trapped inside the suite is a butler on my staff.”
“She did a butler?”
Antonio estimated the distance from himself to the nearest fire door, as well as Brandon’s approximate location to them. He stopped in what he felt was his own safety zone, but needed to move Brandon further back. “My butler escorted Miss Moon to the suite last evening. This morning, when she was taken away by ambulance, the butler entered to begin making arrangements for a new guest checking in today.”
“He fuckin entered my girlfriend last night!”
“In point of fact, the butler is a woman.”
Brandon lowered the gun. “Huh?”
“The butler inside the suite is a woman. If you hand over the weapon, I’ll phone her now to come to the door so that you might be introduced.”
Brandon spat onto the floor. “I ain’t falling for that.” He raised the gun towards Antonio. “Tell her to come out or I’ll shoot you right through that gay bowtie, what do you think of that plan?”
Antonio remained calm, but felt the tension of the young man rising exponentially. “Brandon, do you recall in the limousine when I asked you to move on your seat, just a bit to the right?”
“Yea,” said Brandon, his free hand involuntarily going to his crotch. “My nuts got crushed.”
“Perhaps now you might take two steps backwards, if you would be so kind.”
Brandon took a firmer hold on his groin, scanning everywhere in the hall for imminent danger, and took two quick steps backwards. “Am I safe?”
Antonio whipped the silk handkerchief from his pocket and waved it in the air.
Beyond the hallway door, Mark barked an order into his cell phone.
The result was immediate.
The metal fire doors inset into the walls at intervals along the hall each emitted a metallic clank as magnetic locks disengaged and motors swung them rapidly outward. The exact height and width of each wall, their purpose was to quarantine fires that may happen in the rooms. As the one before Antonio firmly came towards his own position, he stepped to the left in time to see the metal fire door behind Brandon hit his gun hand, knocking the weapon to the ground. As the door edges met their seating locks on the opposite wall the magnets engaged and they were firmly in position. Brandon sequestered between his own doors, while Antonio separated within his own.
Antonio’s BlackBerry buzzed. “Hello Mark. Well done.”
“Where’s the gun, with him or you?”
“It’s entrapped with me.”
“Don’t touch it. Now what’s the plan?”
“Actually I did not have time to strategize past this portion of the scenario.”
“How about I have the Chief Fire Marshall disengage the magnets so the doors move?”
Antonio said, “That would require me picking up the gun, so that Brandon is unable to retrieve it.”
There was much shouting of profanities and echoed banging from Brandon’s side of the door.
“Okay,” said Mark. “Pick up the gun.”
Antonio hefted the weapon. “It’s a striking piece of craftsmanship.”
“Do you know how to eject the magazine?”
“I believe so. Ah, yes I do.”
“Of course you do.”
“And I have checked the chamber for a bullet. The gun is safe.”
“Are you sure you aren’t a retired Navy Seal? A spy? Something?”
“You may dise
ngage the magnets.”
“I’m on it.”
The doors swung outward as the magnets were disengaged.
Brandon immediately shoved his way through with a resounding crash and charged towards Antonio. “Who the fuck do you think – ”
Mark was suddenly by his side and pressing the end of a stun gun baton against Brandon’s chest. An electronic sparking noise emitted, Brandon’s body produced a spasm in mid-step, and he crumbled to the ground.
Antonio arched an eyebrow at the short baton. “Has the Security Department become armed and dangerous?”
Mark shrugged. “Got it on Amazon. Came with a free holster. I’ve been dying to try it out.”
Brandon moaned, a puddle of drool forming on the carpet.
Down the hall Max opened the door to his suite. He yelled loudly, “I quit!”
Chapter Thirty-Four
They were at the dining room table in the Sachem Suite. Across from Antonio and Mark sat Marty Kline, sweaty and moaning worriedly, and Brandon, sweating and moaning painfully.
Antonio placed a packet of burn salve on the table. “This will help with the inflamed area where the baton prongs came into contact with your skin.”
Brandon sneered at him.
Marty eyed the nearby wet bar before asking Mark, “Is he going to go to jail?”
Mark reached out and got a second apple fritter from the platter on the table. “Anybody else want one of these? Good stuff.” He shrugged and took a large bite. Flakes of sugar glazing sprinkled the table as he spoke. “What we got is a man carrying a weapon with no license. Also he had it in a public area, not a residence. Also he was threatening to shoot a guy. Two guys, actually.” Mark wiped his mouth with his jacket sleeve. “Oh, and he woulda attacked Antonio here if I hadn’t electrocuted him.”
Brandon twitched in his seat.
Marty ran a hand through his hair. “Look, is it too early to have a drink?”
“Have an apple fritter,” said Mark. “So what I’m thinking is we have enough to have Brandon arrested and arraigned. He might be released on bail, but then again, they might hold him since he’s not local. Might be good press considering his bad boy image.”
“My concern,” said Antonio, “is that the presence of Shannon may be revealed in the findings. An explanation would have to be provided as to why Brandon was waving a gun at another person’s door. This explanation would include his infidelity with a member of his fan club…”
“You can’t prove that,” said Marty.
“Actually we have a picture,” said Mark. “From Ang Wang’s camera.”
“Bullshit,” said Brandon.
Antonio removed a digital camera from his jacket pocket and placed it squarely on the table.
Brandon and Marty both reached for it at the same time.
Antonio placed his hand over the camera. “I feel it’s necessary to inform you that the BranFan, as it were, shown in this picture is seventeen years old. Her birthdate has been confirmed by our Security Department.”
Brandon slapped the table with his hand. “She showed me her ID! Her eighteenth birthday was that same fuckin night so you can kiss my ass.” He grabbed his crotch below the level of the table and said, “She got a helluva present.”
Antonio asked, “Are you aware of what time she was born, by any chance?”
“I just told you dumbass – last night was her birthday.”
Mark was picking his teeth with a wooden toothpick. “She was born at 11:57pm on that date eighteen years ago. Problem is you did the nasty with her sometime between 10:25pm and 11:40pm. We got the time stamps on our surveillance equipment.”
Brandon’s mouth hung open. “I don’t get it. What are they talkin about Uncle Marty?”
Marty sighed. “They’re saying that even though it was her birth date, she wasn’t legally eighteen years old until 11:57pm that night. So she was still seventeen when you fucked her.”
Antonio said, “If you view the photographic evidence on Mr. Wang’s camera, you are legally obliged to confess as much in a court of law. Of course, if you do not see it, and the evidence is erased, your only concern is the word of the young lady.” Antonio removed his hand from the camera.
Brandon said, “She’s got no complaints.”
“Shut-up, Brandon, you idiot.” Marty stared at the camera for a moment, and then stood up and walked over to the wet bar. As he built himself a tall scotch on the rocks, he said, “How do we make this go away?”
Antonio crossed his legs at the knee. “Brandon plays his concert tonight at Twilight gratis. In exchange for this, we do not press charges, and we wipe the memory card from this camera clean.”
Brandon said, “What the hell is grotus?”
“Gratis means free. We don’t get paid.” He took a slug of scotch. “Sixty grand. That’s a lot of hush money, fellas.”
Mark snapped his toothpick in half and dropped it on his plate. “What are your fines and legal fees going to be when we press charges for the weapon, the threats of violence, and inform little miss BranFan’s parents? They might jump at the chance to get some compensation for having a slutty daughter. Also not to mention the shows you’ll have to cancel because the stud over here is in and out of court or sitting in a holding cell somewhere.”
Marty drained his drink, ice clanking. “Okay, it’s a deal.”
Brandon grabbed the digital camera. “Who gives a shit? Rappers get off all the time, nobody cares.” He thumbed the buttons angrily. “There ain’t even a single picture on this thing – the camera is busted.”
Marty spun around so fast ice avalanched from his glass. “You’re kidding me…”
Antonio reached into his jacket pocket and produced a folded sheet of paper. He placed it on the table. “We have a printed version for your review. The digital copy is in a safe place.”
Brandon reached for it but Marty stepped over and snatched the paper. He unfolded it warily and his face contorted and reddened. He shoved it into an inside pocket of his jacket. “I’ll want your agreement in writing.”
Mark went to work on his BlackBerry. “I’ll have our legal department work up a draft right now. Our entertainment coordinator will have it ready for you to sign before the show.”
“We will require that signature, witnessed and notarized by one of our administrative assistants, before we allow the show to proceed.” Antonio rose from his seat. “Our security team will return to escort you both to the venue this evening.”
Mark stood up and dusted crumbs off his pants. “You can keep the camera, gratis.”
As they walked down the Villa hallway Mark chuckled. “I’m surprised they called our bluff on the camera. I gotta remember to thank Chewie for that picture.”
“Yes,” said Antonio. “It was a stroke of genius to see if any BranFans had visited Uncle Marty’s suite that evening. The picture of the seventeen year old girl entering his room with him in full view wearing only a slightly crooked smile was the game winning move.”
“And you knowing that Uncle Marty would be more easily blackmailed than Brandon was a tribute to your devious nature.”
“I prefer stratagem over blackmail, and cunning over devious.”
“You would. Me, I like them other words.”
Antonio’s BlackBerry buzzed. “Hello, this is Antonio.”
“I’m driving Trixie into the valet port right now,” said the limousine driver. “You on your way?”
“I’m meeting Max at his suite and we will be there in moments.” He ended the call. “Want to come see Trixie?”
“Send her my love,” said Mark. “I gotta go buy the girl in legal some flowers. She’s saved our butts twice this weekend, all working from home.”
“Please put them on my account in the gift shop,” said Antonio. “But no more Stradivarius Churchill cigars.” He pondered for a moment and then said, “Mark, would you mind purchasing one more item for me and having it delivered to the hospital?”
“Sure, I love to
shop with your money.”
Antonio gave him instructions as to what he wanted purchased and its delivery, then he made a phone call outside Max Allen’s corner Villa before knocking on the door.
From within Max shouted, “Who is it?”
“It is Antonio.”
The door swung open. “I’m still afraid to look through the spyhole.”
“Understandably so. You’re wearing your butler attire?”
Max brushed the front of his jacket with his hands. “It’s a special occasion. Plus, I won’t have to change before the tournament.”
“I think that you’re becoming comfortable in a tuxedo.”
“They do make me feel kind of cool.”
They took the elevators down to the lobby level and strolled across the Absolute Black marble of the lobby.
Max gestured towards the ten thousand gallon aquarium behind the front desk. “You’ll never believe what I heard about…”
“It’s better not to give credence to gossip in the casino, Max. There’s an abundance of it, each tale more fanciful than the next.”
They reached the glass doors to the porte-cochere just as the town car was rolling to a stop. The driver exited the vehicle, came around to the rear passenger door, and opened it. A brunette with an elfish and whimsical short hair style, oversized pink sunglasses, a flowing pattern dress, a compact leather purse tucked under her arm, and a smile flashing brilliantly in the afternoon sun stepped out and ran towards Max as he came through the glass doors and opened his arms.
Antonio stayed a respectful distance and enjoyed the heartfelt reunion.
Trixie kissed Max on the face once, twice, and reluctantly released him only to rush towards Antonio. “My favorite butler!”
Antonio wrapped his arms around the beautiful girl and indulged in one of his infrequent displays of affection by kissing her chastely on the cheek. “Happy eleventh birthday, young lady!”
“Daddy is freaking out because I’m almost a teenager,” she said, giggling. “Oh guess what!” Trixie pulled a clipped red carnation from her purse. “I saw these at the airport and I thought of you, Antonio! I could just see one on your lapel – like you see the gentlemen wearing them in old black and white movies! Don’t you love it?”
CASINO SHUFFLE Page 20