Casino Capers

by Dan Kelly

  “Red, I can’t tell you how sorry I am about what you’re being put through. Your brother and the rest of his arson team did everything imaginable to uncover any wrong doing in connection with the fire. They worked very closely with the insurance people and found nothing to indicate that the fire was deliberately set or that poor maintenance was at fault.

  “A while back we did have an electrical problem caused by wiring that wasn’t up to code. The insulation on the wire was substandard and cracked after many years of temperature changes which caused the wire to expand and contract. When the insulation cracked, bare wire was exposed and intermittent shorting occurred and sparks flew out of outlets. The wiring was done before I bought the building, but as soon as I became aware of the problem I hired electricians to rewire the entire building. It cost me a small fortune, but I had no choice. It was a very dangerous situation.”

  “My troubles with the Chameleon aren’t your fault, Clyde. We’re dealing with a guy that isn’t playing with a full deck. He’s obsessed with the idea that the fire wasn’t the result of an act of nature and that there has been a cover up of the real cause by Nate and you and perhaps your family connections with the local Chicago political establishment.

  “When we get to the Go For It, I’ll give you and Nate a complete rundown on everything that has transpired since the Chameleon launched his campaign to bring me down. That way we’ll all be on the same page.”

  The rest of the drive back to the Go For It was spent by all of them withdrawing into themselves, dwelling on what lay ahead of them.

  Chapter 41

  An hour later, sitting in the main lounge at the Go For It, Red is just finishing up with his summary of the Chameleon’s campaign to ruin him for Nate and Clyde when Bill’s cell phone chimes.

  Bill answers and everyone else watches as his facial expression metamorphoses from calm to concern to impatience to shock to fear to relief and then to anger. His face is turning beet red and beads of perspiration are beginning to form on his forehead. He says; “ I’ll get back to you.” and hangs up. Looking at Rex he says, “That was Chuck. They found a bomb in one of the air vents in the casino near one of the lavatories and it was armed.

  “The bomb squad was able to defuse it with less than a minute to spare. While Chuck was talking with me, the leader of the bomb squad called and he had to put me on hold to take the call. When he came back on the line, he told me that if the bomb had gone off there would have been no explosion, but you would have had noxious fumes and tear gas spreading throughout the Floating Fantasies. This was the Chameleon’s doing. He left his calling card taped to one of the canisters holding hydrogen sulphide which when released would have filled the air with the odor of rotten eggs.”

  Rex responded with, “Well, his choice of hydrogen sulphide was appropriate because this guy is a lollapalooza of a stinker. He’d better not let me be the person to deodorize him. He definitely won’t like the spray I’ll be using.”

  One look at Rex’s face and everyone in the room knew that this was no one to be messing with.

  Red knew he had to reduce the tension in the room somehow, so he softly said, “Well, Rex, at least no harm was done to the Floating Fantasies. That’s something to be thankful for. Bill, do we have the all clear to bring our guests back onboard?”

  “Yes, Chuck said it was safe to return.”

  “Okay then, let’s all head back to my office for rehearsal. Jillian, Sylvia, are you two ready for us?”

  Jillian answered with a nod of her head.

  “Great. Let’s move it then.”

  Chapter 42

  Surprisingly, when they got back to the Floating Fantasies, people were roaming all over the ship, the casino was crammed with hopefuls looking to break the bank and there was chatter, laughter and screams of delight coming from all directions. It was like nothing had happened to interrupt their fun.

  “I guess it’s going to take a lot more than a bomb scare to keep our guests away from the action, especially in a setting like the Floating Fantasies offers. I sure hope our luck holds out on that score. This lunatic is getting bolder and more dangerous with every passing day and he’s liable to do just about anything.”

  When they were all settled around the conference room table in Red’s office, Jillian and Sylvia passed out the scripts they had prepared and gave everyone a chance to read through them a couple of times before rehearsal began. Chuck hadn’t shown up yet because according to Bill he was still wading his way through the administrative procedure and paperwork associated with his part in arranging for the bomb squad to be ordered to the Floating Fantasies.

  Jillian started the rehearsal by saying, “Sylvia and I did our best to come up with dialogue that sounds natural, using phrasing and language that reflects the temperament of people who are under a great deal of stress and getting together to try to solve a difficult and serious problem.

  “If any of you find the wording in your part awkward, something you can’t say and make it sound believable, let us know and we’ll do a rewrite. Is anyone uncomfortable with what we have written for you?”

  Nobody was, so the rehearsal began and went rather well for a bunch of amateurs. There was some tweaking here and there, but as a whole everything went better than Red had expected. Chuck showed up ten minutes into their rehearsal session and was able to quickly catch up.

  When they finished rehearsing Red asks, “Jillian, how long will it take for your hologram techs to set up?”

  “Let me call them right now and find out.” A few minutes later Red had his answer.

  “Red, the techs will need an hour to get over here with their gear and another half hour to set up. We could do our recording at eight tonight and wrap it up by nine-thirty. When we’re done, where are you going to put the conference room table?”

  “Popeye will find a place for it. I like your idea of doing it tonight. Our rehearsal will be fresh in our minds and we’re less likely to fluff a line. Tell your techs to get over here ASAP and have everything ready to go by 7:30. We can all relax for a while, go get something to eat and be back here by 7:30 for a final review before show time at 8:00. There’s an excellent cafeteria on the promenade deck about mid-ship called the Floating Fantasies Food Fest. The food is terrific, the selection large and you can’t beat the price. Your dinner is on me. Enjoy.”

  As they’re all leaving for the cafeteria, Nate taps Red on the shoulder and says, “How do you do it, bro? How come whenever you’re in trouble there’s a gorgeous girl in the mix somehow. That Jillian is some dish.”

  “She’s a lot more than a looker, Nate. She’s a very special lady. I’ve never met a woman like her before.”

  Dumbfounded by what he just heard his brother say, all he can come up with is “Huh!”

  Red’s reply was equally eloquent. He winked.

  “Don’t tell me the king of the bachelors is in danger of abdicating his throne. It can’t be. It must be some kind of virus. Since puberty, your heart has been encased in an alloy unknown to common man, impervious to Cupid’s arrows and feminine wiles.”

  Red smiled, but said nothing. This too was not normal. Red has never been known to pass up a chance to verbally joust with his brother. “Oh man, something’s really out of kilter here. I better be careful. Whatever he has might be catching. One divorce is enough for any man in his right mind.”

  As they all arrive at the large double doors of the cafeteria, Red is bringing up the rear and Jillian is waiting for him in the doorway. Smiling she says, “You’re going to have to let your brother know that he has to learn to lower his voice when he wants to have a private conversation. One never knows who might be within earshot. King of the bachelors, eh?”

  The stunned and embarrassed look on Red’s face caused her to burst out laughing and it took her several minutes to get control of herself, but when Nate asked her what was so funny, she burst out laughing again. Locking arms with Red she said, “Come and sit with me. I’m dying to hear how
you reign in your realm, what decrees you’ve issued.”

  Getting over his embarrassment Red said, “I’m thinking of issuing a decree right now. Everybody with a big mouth shall be heavily taxed with my foot up his ass.”

  This brought on another fit of giggles until she had to excuse herself to go to the ladies room. Laughing all the way, the rest of their group couldn’t help wondering what was going on.

  Dodging the barrage of questions with, “It’s a private joke.” only brought on another deluge of queries about what could be so private with Jillian that he couldn’t share with the rest of them. A lot of eyebrow raising, lip tapping and head scratching ensued and Red was getting uncomfortably flustered with their instance on being so damn nosy. Of course, they were having a lot of fun at Red’s expense, but they finally let him off the hook when Jillian returned and told them they’d have to wait until she wrote her memoirs. Everyone chuckled and then went on to other topics.

  When everyone was finished eating it was a quarter after seven and Red had become very quiet, looking off into space. Jillian said, “Earth to Borman. Earth to Borman. Come on please.”

  Snapping back to here and now Red said, “You say something?”

  “A penny for your thoughts, maybe a nickel if they’re really interesting.”

  “They’re not even worth that much. I was just thinking of my arch-enemy the Chameleon and wondering how he got so screwed up. If our scheme doesn’t work and he finds out that it was a setup, I think he’ll throw caution to the winds and be out for blood.

  “We’re not just playing with a little bonfire any longer, Jillian. We’re now in the big leagues and might be opening the doors to a major inferno, a bloody, monumental conflagration from which some or all of us could get burned quite severely. The hologram video will serve as an excellent fire retardant against the initial flames, but it won’t protect us for very long. He’ll be boiling mad and on a rampage.

  “If this happens, we’re going to have to treat fire with fire and forget trying to capture him. We’ll have to put all of our energy into extinguishing him, obliterating him.”

  “Gulping loudly, she said, “You mean kill him?”

  “We’ll have no other choice, Jillian. It will be a kill or be killed situation. I sure hope it doesn’t come to this, but the way things have been going, it’s something we better start thinking about. Pausing for a second he lightens up with, “Boy, how’s that for an after dinner brandy. That sure got the digestive juices flowing, didn’t it?”

  With a wan smile Jillian said, “I think the next time we dine out, I’ll pick the after dinner drink. Yours are a little too strong for me.”

  Returning the smile, Red clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention and then said, “Show time! Let’s head back.”

  At 7:30, everything was set to go and the recording went without a hitch. In short, it was believable and they were all hoping their performance was good enough to draw and keep the Chameleon at Red’s office window, distracting him long enough for Chuck’s team to surround him, cuff him and haul him away, creating as little of a ruckus as possible and without the Chameleon hurting anybody.

  Red’s thinking to himself, “Okay, folks, no more bets. It’s time to spin the wheel and hope our number comes up. Man, I never had this kind of pressure as a cabbie.”

  Chapter 43

  At one o’clock the next afternoon, Red, Nate, Clyde, Rex, Chuck, Bill, Popeye, Sylvia and Jillian are gathered in Rex’s office which is more forward than Red’s, going over their game plan for the umpteenth time. It’s been decided to transmit the hologram into Red’s office at three that afternoon when the number of people walking around on deck near Red’s office is normally fairly small because of the other activities Sylvia has going in other parts of the ship.

  Red’ s saying, “Beginning now, everyone but Popeye, Bill and Sylvia will remain in Rex’s office until the show is interrupted by the Chameleon’s capture or by the Chameleon doing something to warrant a quick response from Chuck’s people. In either event, the rest of us are not to leave Rex’s office until given the all clear by one of Chuck’s men.

  “Popeye, you’re going to be kept busy making sure that all of your buddies are at the posts assigned to them and that they stay put until told to do otherwise no matter what the distraction.

  “Bill, you’ll be occupied with ensuring that all of Chuck’s men are where they’re supposed to be, but the timing of the moment to take the Chameleon down lies in the hands of the person Chuck has designated to lead the strike team, an Officer Callahan.

  “Sylvia, you’ll be wandering between the various activities you have going on, doing your job as usual, but be ready to handle any alarming situation that might develop that could cause our guests to panic and rush into harm’s way.

  “As for the rest of us, all we can do is keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best.”

  Rex added, “Doing nothing but waiting is probably going to be the hardest job of all, so I had some goodies brought in for us to nibble on and some of my special brand of Columbian coffee to wash them down. This might help us deal with the stress of being in limbo, not knowing what the hell is going on outside. Everything is under that cover on that long table by the wall. Please fell free to help yourself. If we run out, I can have more delivered without anyone of us having to stick our head out the door.”

  Popeye, Bill and Sylvia left the office and everyone else went to the table to check out the goodies. There wasn’t much conversation and soon no one was talking at all. Everyone was preoccupied with worrying about what might go wrong this time. The Chameleon’s track record has definitely been impressive up to now.

  Jillian eventually comes over to sit down alongside Red and say, “I wonder what kind of disguise he’ll use this time if he shows up. Will he be wearing a security guard uniform or something else and what will he look like? How will he make himself fit in?”

  “Good questions, Jillian, and I don’t have any answers that I’d stake my life on. A good disguise would be that of a maintenance man. He’d look like he belonged on that walkway. Hell, this guy’s so good with disguises he could dress up as a sea gull and pull it off, droppings and all.”

  Despite the concern in Red’s voice, his unsuspected flippant comment causes her to erupt in a fit of soft laughter which she tries to smother with her hands, but to no avail. Everyone is looking at them and Rex said, “Hey you two. Don’t be so serious. Lighten up already.” This brings on more laughter and the tension in the office drops significantly.

  The closer it gets to three o’clock the more time seems to drag. Everyone is dying to know if the Chameleon has positioned himself outside of Red’s office yet. At three o’clock, everyone is quiet and barely breathing, trying to visualize what is happening outside.

  There is a maintenance shed at the entrance to the walkway large enough to conceal one police officer. Its door has one small window in the upper half which gives the officer an unobstructed view of the walkway.

  The other end of the long walkway behind the staircase is blocked off by packing crates rising fifteen feet in the air and their contents are marked by labels indicating items such as various types of pumps, valves, piping, generators, sonar gear, etc. The crates are empty and hiding behind them are several more police officers who can easily see between the crates but who can not be seen even if someone were standing close by directly in front of them. The crates are stacked in such a way that one of the bottom crates can be pushed out of the way without any of the others tumbling down on them.

  The officers have their weapons drawn and are primed and ready for action. There is no way the Chameleon is going to get away this time.

  A light rain has begun to fall and Bill and Popeye are starting to worry that it might keep the Chameleon away, but at a couple of minutes after three someone shows up at the chained entrance to the walkway. It’s a man, looks to be in his thirties, same build as the Chameleon, wearing lightly tinted glasses
, dark grey chinos and a matching long sleeved work shirt, scuffed work boots and a dirty tan peaked cap. He has a clipboard in his hand and is looking down the walkway.