Casino Capers

by Dan Kelly

  Mid-morning of the third day they were in Chicago, Rex gets a call from Tucker. One of his men just spotted a thinly disguised Carducci getting off a Greyhound bus at their main terminal. “He’s wearing a White Sox baseball cap, shades, jeans, black sneakers and a dark blue sweat shirt under a black jacket that zips up the front. He is clean shaven and has his left arm’s in a sling. My guy said that the sling and the chinless puss of the Chameleon were dead give aways.

  “That’s the good news. The bad news is my guy lost him inside the terminal when three guys started fighting. As the police stepped into break it up, people were running all over the place to get out of harms way and prevented him from keeping the Chameleon in sight. Apparently, the Chameleon walked to the other end of the terminal to catch a city bus. By the time my man got outside, the Chameleon had hopped a bus and split.”

  When Rex relayed the news to the rest of them, Red reverted to his reliable old standby, “Ah, nuts, nuts, nuts!”

  Popeye said, “Well, at least we know he’s in Chicago now, so our game plan for driving him out of Bettendorf evidently worked.”

  Jillian wonders out loud, “I wonder where he got the money for bus fare and where did those clothes come from?”

  Popeye replies with, “Whatever scruples the Chameleon had when he started his vendetta have long since been obliterated by his hate and lust for revenge. Theft is no longer beyond the realm of possibility. His vendetta is consuming him and he’s liable to do anything to get what he wants.”

  Jillian said, “I’m sure Tucker has contacted Vince who will have contacted his people with the news that the Chameleon is in town, so Nate and Clyde know what’s going on. I think it would be a good idea though if Red were to call his brother and you, Rex were to call Clyde. Just being able to talk with somebody about the situation should significantly reduce the tension that must have built up when they heard that the Chameleon was in town.”

  Rex said, “That’s a great idea. Red, you can use the phone in the library. I’ll use the one in my office.

  Red’s thinking, “She must have been one hell of a psychologist.”

  Nate picked up after the second ring. “Arson, Borman.”

  “Hi, bro, you have a couple of minutes to talk?”

  “Yeah, now hold on. If you’ve gotten yourself into another jam, I can only handle one catastrophe at a time.”

  “His sense of humor is still up and running, so he’s probably got his nerves under control.”

  “I just called to see how you were holding up under everything that has come down the pike with the Chameleon.”

  “Thanks, Red, for being concerned, but I’m cool, well lukewarm would probably better describe my mental state right now. Do you remember when we were kids and we’d get into fights with other kids. You remember how you’d be a little nervous before you got hit the first time then temper took over and you were ready to beat the tar out of anybody that messed with you?”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Well, that’s the way I feel right now. The jitters should go away when the action starts.”

  “Just remember, Nate, this isn’t a schoolyard fight where the worst that usually happened to you was a black eye, bloody nose and a bunch of bruises and scrapes. Occasionally, if someone got in a real good punch a nose got broken or a tooth chipped. The Chameleon is another matter. Someone could get killed, so watch your back, hear me?”

  “I hear you, Red. Uh, oh. Duty calls. I’ve got to get out of here. Thanks for checking up on me. Later.”

  Jillian had joined him in the library when he placed the call to Nate and when he hung up she inquired, “How’s he holding up?”

  “Like the tough guy that he is. I learned a long time ago that it’s a real tough chore to rattle his cage, but he’s not taking the Chameleon lightly either.”

  “That’s good news. Say, since we’re back to waiting for the Chameleon to make his move, how about a game of eight ball? I’m a pretty mean chick with a stick.”

  “That sounds like a dare to me. You’re on.”

  Heading for the game room, they run into Popeye. Jillian said, “We’re going to play some pool. Do you want to join us?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  It turns out that Popeye is no slouch with a cue stick either. They played for two hours and finished about even in the win column. As Red and Jillian were cleaning up the snacks they had been chowing down and Popeye was brushing off the felt table top, Rex came in and announced, “It looks like it might be Nate’s turn at bat. The Chameleon was briefly spotted outside the fire station where Nate’s office is. He was riding a motor scooter which enabled him to weave in and out of traffic and Tucker’s man lost him. He doesn’t think the Chameleon knew he was being followed though.”

  Red said, “He could just be casing all of the places he might find both Nate and Clyde. After he’s done that, he might decide to go after Clyde first.”

  Nodding his head Rex said, “You could be right, but so far the Chameleon hasn’t been spotted anywhere near any of Clyde’s haunts.”

  Red said, “Rex, as much as I’m enjoying the surroundings and your hospitality, this sitting around and waiting for the hammer to fall is beginning to get to me. Nate could use another pair of eyes to help him watch his back, so I think I’ll head over to his office and hang out there. I hope you understand.”

  Perfectly. You watch your back too. If the Chameleon finds out you’re with your brother, it would be a tempting two for one situation for him. He’s a creative bastard and who knows what he’s liable to dream up.”

  With clear concern on her face, Jillian sidled closer to him and said, “Be careful, Red. I’d like to spend a lot more evenings with you at the Crestmont Country Club.”

  With a wink and a smile, Red was out of there.

  Chapter 66

  When Red gets to Nate’s office, he still hasn’t returned from the fire investigation he was called out on when they were talking on the phone earlier. Red leaves a message for him with his admin, telling him that he’ll be waiting for him at his apartment and suggesting that they kick back and enjoy some Chinese takeout.

  Red and Nate have keys to each other’s apartments, so he doesn’t have to contend with hanging out someplace like the sandwich shop down the block from Nate’s place until he comes home. Nate lives on the top floor of a three story apartment building on the South Loop and has a fantastic view of Lake Michigan. The front door opens up to a small vestibule which has the tenants’ mailboxes, a small elevator which can accommodate six average sized people comfortably and another door leading into the hallway of the apartments on the first floor.

  To access the elevator, a password has to be entered on a panel next to the elevator. Nate’s is ‘flash’ which Red teases him about constantly. Nate chose it because it refers to flash fires he often has to investigate, but Red always kids him about selecting it because deep down he fantasizes about being a super star NFL running back.

  As Red’s coming out of the elevator, he spots a man turning from Nate’s door to head down the hallway toward a door with an exit sign over it. These doors permit exit from the building via a stairway, but the only way in is through the vestibule. It’s a fire code requirement.

  Red calls out, “Hey there. Can I help you with something?”

  Instead of answering, the guy takes off running for the exit door. Red runs after him, yelling for him to hold up, but the guy is quick and flies through the door and down the stairs. Red chases him down the stairs and into an alley behind the building where there are dumpsters and trash cans. There’s no one is in sight. Running out to the street, looking both ways, he sees no one but a woman walking her dog. Mumbling to himself he says, “Damn, that sucker was fast. I’d bet a year’s wages that was the Chameleon.”

  As he’s opening the front door to go back into the building, he hears a scuffling noise coming from the alley. As he approaches the entrance to the alley to check it out, figuring maybe the guy did
n’t get away after all, he’s scared out of his wits by the biggest alley cat he’s ever seen scurrying past him like his tail is on fire.

  Red’s thinking, “Something frightened that tabby, that’s for sure. If it’s the Chameleon, he’s most likely armed, so it would be very stupid of me to go back into that alley unarmed. But if he’s armed, why didn’t he shoot me when I surprised him upstairs or when I showed up in the alley? How can I keep him from getting away without getting myself killed? Damn, I hate conundrums. Conundrums? I have been hanging around Rex too much.”

  The problem was solved for him by the Chameleon appearing a few feet from him in the alley pointing a gun at his face. “Walk into the alley very slowly, Red. As I back up, you move forward. Keep your hands where I can see them.” They did this little fox trot until they reached the trash cans near the exit door from the apartment building where the Chameleon told him to stop.

  “You’ve been a very challenging adversary, Red, but I know time is running out for me and I no longer can waste what I have left matching wits with you. Consider yourself fortunate though, it’s not your time yet. Turn around, place your hands over your head and against the door and spread your feet.”

  Red’s mind’s racing. “Man, if he’s not going to shoot me, the only reason for putting me in this position is he’s going to slug me with the butt of that gun, hoping to buy enough time to get the hell out of here. I can’t let him do that.”

  This guy’s not functioning on all cylinders, so reasoning with him won’t work, only brute force will.”

  Sensing the blow coming, he turns and with his left arm viciously blocks the Chameleon’s right arm at the wrist as it descends towards his head. Luck is with him and he catches the wrist just right, sending the gun flying. Red follows up with an elbow to the arm in the sling and the Chameleon stumbles backward grunting in agony. Red moves in for a kick to his knee, but the Chameleon quickly dodges it and suddenly there’s a knife in his hand. It’s a hunting knife and it looks very sharp. “Son of a bitch! This guy is still full of surprises.”

  Growing up on the streets of Chicago, Red’s learned how to take care of himself and he knows how to bait a guy into getting careless and giving him an opening, so he lets fly with, “Come on, have a go at me. Let’s see what you’ve got. I think all you’ve got is a temper and a big mouth.”

  It works. The Chameleon’s face turns crimson and he starts swinging the knife wildly and then clumsily lunges it at Red’s stomach. Red easily avoids it and then grabs the lid off one of the trash cans to parry the Chameleon’s next attempt. It’s obvious to Red that the Chameleon doesn’t know a thing about fighting with a knife, but a lucky cut is just as deadly as one from an expert, so he’s being real careful.

  “It looks like I was right. You’re all talk with nothing to back it up. What would your brother say if he could see you now?”

  The Chameleon went berserk and rushed Red swingy the knife wildly in front of him. Red caught him flush in the face with the edge of the lid, opening a gash under his right eye and across the bridge of his nose. As the Chameleon raises his hand to cover his face, the knife sails off into oblivion for which Red will be eternally thankful. Red moves in quickly to finish him off, but slips on some garbage littered on the concrete slab of the alley and unceremoniously winds up flat on his back, his head hitting the cement hard enough to knock him out.

  He comes to with something licking his face and alarmed tries to scoot away, but stops when he hears a woman’s voice saying, “It’s okay. That’s just my pooch, Creampuff, trying to wake you up. I was coming back home from walking my dog when I passed by the alley and saw you lying here. Are you feeling okay?”

  “I think so. I slipped on some garbage and hit my head. I’ve got a splitting headache, but I’ve had worse hangovers. A couple of aspirins should take care of it. Did you see anyone coming out of the alley when you were coming home?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  With the dog still trying to lick his face, Red slowly and shakily stands up and leans against the wall of the alley. “Creampuff! Stop that now. The man’s going to be alright.”

  “Thanks for caring, Creampuff. I owe you a biscuit, a bone or something. You know, he looks like a creampuff with all of that tight curly white hair all over his body. What kind of dog is he?”

  “I don’t really know. He’s just a mutt I found wandering the streets one day about a year ago and we’ve kind of adopted each other.”

  “Well, thanks a lot for your help.”

  “Are you sure you’re going to be alright? Do you need any help getting someplace?”

  “That’s real kind of you, but no. I’ll be fine. I’m in town visiting my brother Nate who lives here, so I’ll just go back upstairs, grab a couple of aspirin and a cup of coffee and watch some TV until my brother gets home.”

  ‘You’re Nate’s brother? He’s such a nice man. He’s always bringing treats home for Creampuff.”

  “Well, I’ll have him bring an extra special treat for the little guy the next time he’s so inclined. Thanks again for your help.”

  As the woman heads back out of the alley, Red begins looking for the gun and the knife. After ten minutes of searching and finding nothing, Red is about ready to give it up and go back to Nate’s apartment when who shows up but the man himself. “You know, Red, there are better things to do in Chicago besides walking around in this alley. What in blazes are you looking for?”

  “How did you find me?”

  “I had to park my car down the street because there were no open parking spaces any closer. When I passed the entrance to the alley on my way to my front door, I glanced in and saw you doing some kind of rain dance all over the place. Judging from the clouds overhead, it looks like it worked.”

  “Very funny, Seinfeld. Forgive me for not breaking up, but it hurts when I laugh. Red filled him in on what had happened and finished with, “Now I’m looking for the damn gun and knife and I can’t find either one.”

  Nate joined in the search and after another ten minutes he found the gun in one of the dumpsters and the knife stuck in an overhanging limb of a big maple tree.

  Shaking his head although quite gingerly Red said, “I should have known you’d be the one to find them. You were always better at finding the eggs on Easter morning.”

  Nate has also found a couple of soiled rags in the dumpster and uses them to place the gun and knife in a paper bag he found in one of the trash cans. Looking at his brother he says, “Fingerprint evidence.”

  As they walk out of the alley Red asks, “By the way, where’s your bodyguard?”

  “We stopped off around the corner and picked up some Chinese. He went on ahead with it up to my apartment while I came in here to see what you were up to. He doesn’t let me in the apartment until he’s checked it out first anyway.”

  “Now that we know that the Chameleon knows where you live, that precaution makes a lot of sense. Slow down a little, Nate. Every time I take a step, it’s hurts like hell.”

  Nate takes another look at his brother and says, “You don’t look too good, Red. You might have suffered a concussion when your head smacked the pavement. Maybe I should take you to an Emergency Room and have you checked out. There are a couple of hospitals close by.”

  “No, I’ll be alright. I just need a few aspirin to attack this hellacious headache I’ve got.”

  Nate takes a closer look at the back of his brother’s head and it’s covered in caked blood and some is still oozing from a deep split in the skin on his scalp.

  “Don’t argue with me, bro. I’m taking you to a hospital. You hit your head harder than you think. There’s blood all over the back of your head and the collars of your shirt and jacket.”

  Flipping open his cell, he calls his bodyguard to let him know what gives. “Nick, it’s Nate.” Quickly summarizing what happened to Red he finishes with, “You can come with us if you want, but I don’t think we’ll be having any more trouble from the Chameleon
tonight. He’s more than likely off somewhere licking his wounds. Red did a number on his face with a garbage can lid. Okay? We shouldn’t be gone more than an hour. Save some food for us.”