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Casino Capers Page 33

by Dan Kelly


  With total disbelief on his face Red says, “That food has as much chance of surviving the perpetual hunger of that behemoth as the Sahara Desert has of becoming a tropical paradise.”

  “Five will get you ten that he leaves some for us.”

  “You’re on, but morsels don’t count.”

  A half hour later an Emergency Room doctor has examined Red and checked him out for a concussion. Fortunately there was none, but it took ten stitches to sew his scalp back up. “Mr. Borman, you were very lucky. That thick head of hair of yours cushioned the impact of your head against the concrete and prevented a deeper and longer gash in your scalp. I’m going to give you some pain pills, two of which I want you to take now and then you’re to take two every four hours for the next twelve hours. The pain should be tolerable by then.”

  “Thanks, doc.”

  Driving back to Nate’s apartment Nate smiles and says, “Man. How have you survived so long on your own in Iowa?”

  With a hurting smile he came back with, “I was doing alright until a certain lizard crossed my path because he was pissed at you.”

  “Yeah, I don’t understand that. I’ve always had a winning personality.”

  Red moaned and said, “Have pity on a hurting man and shut up.”

  When they get back to Nate’s, there’s still a bunch of Chinese food on the kitchen counter, so Nate hold’s out his hand and Red slaps a Lincoln across his palm.

  Nick asks, “What’s that all about?”

  Smiling, Nate tells him, but the smile quickly fades when an embarrassed Nick says, “Give him his fiver back, Nate. Red was right. I ate all of the first order. I just got back with this one.”

  Now Red is the one who’s smiling and holding out his hand into which Nate reluctantly places a Hamilton. “I don’t know if I lost this bet, Red. There’s still Chinese food here.”

  “Don’t you try welshing your way out of this, Slick. The bet was on the original order and you know it.”

  “Okay. Okay. You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  Looking at Nick while pointing at Nate Red says, “Do you believe this guy? The king of the weaselers stands before you, I kid you not!”

  After some more joking around and a lot of eating, amazingly Nick still had room for some more food, they settled down in the family room with some excellent brandy and a lot of serious conversation.

  Nate had placed the bag holding the Chameleon’s gun and knife on the coffee table, so Red shook them out onto the table for a closer look. Carefully handling the gun with some clean paper towel, the Chameleon gave him another surprise. It wasn’t loaded.

  The gun was the same make as the one taken from the guard after the accident on the way to court and was most likely the same weapon. According to the guard, it was fully loaded when the Chameleon took it.

  Red shares his thoughts with the other two men. “He could have used all the ammunition in the fire fight at the country club, but he was firing a different weapon then. He might have been firing both of them. I just don’t know. He probably had to ditch the other weapon somewhere because it was too cumbersome to carry with his arm out of commission and it would be easier to carry the sidearm and get his hands on some more ammo later. He obviously didn’t have a chance to latch onto some before he ran into me, thank you Lady Luck.

  “There’s something else I’m wondering about. What was he doing at your apartment door? I’m figuring he must have just got there when he heard the ping of the elevator reaching your floor, so he didn’t have a chance to do anything. He might have been listening to see if anyone was home, he might have been planning to pick the lock to get in and take you out by hitting you over the head with something when you got home, he might just have wanted to have a look around for information that might help him in some way to better know your routine, that guy’s mind could conjure up all kinds of off the wall reasons for being there just then. My imagination is nowhere near as good as his, so I’m probably overlooking a lot more possible reasons. And one more thing, where the ding dong are Tucker’s men? Why didn’t they nab him when he showed up?”

  Nick had been listening closely to what Red was saying and when Red stopped to take a breath he jumped in with, “Tucker called me earlier today to let me know that I was on my own until tomorrow. Clyde’s brother showing up like he did plus having to hassle with the fire chief and mayor to get their permission to let his men and me accompanying Nate if and when he has to investigate a fire created some unanticipated delays in getting his men deployed.”

  Looking at his brother Red says, “Man, I never thought of that. That’s why Tucker gets the big bucks. I’ll bet you he’s thinking that the Chameleon might be crazy enough to start a fire someplace to draw you out, so he can ambush you.”

  Scratching his head in bewilderment Nick jumped in again with, “I’d like to know how he got into the building. The security’s pretty good here. You need a key to open the front door, a pass code to get into the elevator and a card key to get into the apartments.”

  Red responded with, “Nick, this guy is not your average flake. From my dealings with him, I’m convinced his IQ is way up there. He has an exceptional knowledge of electronics and mechanical things. Picking a lock or bypassing a security panel would be easy for him. In fact, now that I think of it, his IQ could be the cause of his aberrant behavior” As an aside to himself he mumbles, “Aberant? Yeah, I’ve got to stop hanging around Rex so much.” Then he gets back on track with, “That might have something to do with his behavior. A lot has been written about IQ and madness being linked, but so far no definite proof has come to light.”

  “Well, be that as it may, from now on, Nate, you go nowhere without me as your shadow. This guy means business and my business is to keep you in one piece and unharmed.”

  “Believe me, Nick, I feel a lot better with you around, especially after Red’s run in with the Chameleon earlier. However, since I seem to be in a betting mood today, ten will get you twenty that the Chameleon’s next move will be on Clyde Crowley. Now that he knows Red’s in town, he’s most likely thinking that in taking me on he’ll have to take Red on as well, so Clyde will be easier pickings because, as far as he knows, no one’s watching Clyde’s back. Oh, I’m not kidding myself. The Chameleon will want to have another go at me, but right now I think Clyde is the man of the hour.”

  “I’ll pass. I think you’re right.”

  After another brandy, they all are getting sleepy, so they head for bed. Nate doesn’t have a bed big enough for Nick, so they have been repositioning the sectional furniture Nate has in the family room to give him something long enough to sleep on comfortably. Apparently, it suits Nick just fine for in less than a minute he’s out like a light.

  Chapter 67

  At seven-thirty the next morning, Nate, followed closely by Nick, drops Red off in front of Rex’s hotel and heads in to work. Red doesn’t have a key card for the private elevator to the penthouse and he doesn’t want to call up in case everyone is still sleeping, so he heads for a coffee shop off the lobby for some breakfast.

  He needn’t have been concerned. When he enters, the first thing he sees is Joe Amato and Popeye sitting in a booth at the back, facing the door but looking at menus. Jillian is sitting opposite them with her back to the door talking on her cell. As he approaches the booth, Popeye looks up, sees the bandage wrapped around his head and says, “Red, is that the latest thing in casino fashion or are you just trying to get creative with your wardrobe? That’s not you, man. Middle Eastern guys can pull that off, but us European types just can’t hack it.”

  With a mixture of shock, surprise and amusement spreading across his face, Red says, “You’ve got to get back to the Floating Fantasies. Too much of this city is rubbing off on you.”

  Jillian finishes with her call, turns and when she sees him becomes visibly upset. Red kind of likes her reaction. “Red, good lord, what happened to you? Does it hurt?” Patting his arm and gently touching his head she
asks again, “What happened? Tell me. Are you taking anything for the pain? Can I get you anything? Come. Sit down and have a bite to eat. You’ll feel better.”

  Red isn’t saying a word. He’s enjoying the fussing too much to ruin it with an explanation, but the way Jillian is carrying on brings back a childhood memory and he bursts out laughing.

  “Are you sure you don’t have any Jewish relatives in your family tree? You’re reminding me of Mrs. Rosenberg who, when her son Ronnie, a buddy of mine, would fall and hurt himself or get injured playing ball, would carry on like you are now. Don’t get me wrong. It’s nice, real nice to have someone fussing over you, but it’s also kind of funny in a heartwarming sort of way.”

  Seeing that Red is able to laugh despite his injury, she realizes that perhaps she’s overreacting. Giving him a playful but healthy punch in the arm and a mischievous smile she says, “Don’t hold your breath until the next time I fuss over you, Chuckles.”

  Joe, who’s sitting back taking all of this in finally says, “So, Red, are you going to tell us what happened or do we have to wait until the book comes out?”

  Everybody laughs and then Red tells his story. When he finishes, no one’s laughing. Popeye says, “You’re a lucky guy, Red. The Chameleon could have finished you off when you were out cold. Where are the gun and knife now?”

  “Back at Nate’s house in the same paper bag we used when Nate found them.”

  “I’ll ask Tucker to pick them up and hand them over to the Chicago police for safe keeping. Chain of evidence and all that.”

  Popeye and Jillian are having the same thought. “Why does Popeye know about things like that?”

  Popeye asks Red another question. “Does Tucker know about what happened at Nate’s?”

  “I don’t know. The only way he could know is if Nick told Vince and Vince passed the info on to Tucker. I didn’t think to call him until after midnight because I was too preoccupied with what had happened to me. I figured it could wait until this morning when I got back.” The look on Popeye’s face had him asking, “I figured wrong, huh?”

  “Red, this guy’s a psycho. He doesn’t think rationally like the rest of us. It’s always best to anticipate the worst when dealing with people like him. That way there are no surprises. We need every edge we can get, including not wasting any time.”

  Joe, who’s been listening very closely to what Popeye has been saying, turns to him and asks, “How does a riverboat captain know so much about stuff like this?”

  Somewhat flustered over the question Popeye answers with, “That’s another story for another time. Now, if you’ll excuse me I want to call Tucker right away so he’s aware of what’s happened and, hopefully, will have time to fine tune his coverage of Clyde if it’s needed.”

  Popeye stands up and says, “No need to get up, Joe” Turning his back to him, Popeye swings his legs over the back of the booth, one after the other, and in a few seconds he’s out of sight.

  Red looks at Joe and says, “Well, guy, you sure know how to break up a party.”

  “Gee, I’m sorry. I wasn’t deliberately trying to be rude. It’s just that I’m beginning to think there’s definitely a lot more to that man than he lets on. I just got curious about where all this knowledge comes from.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Joe.” We understand. You asked what Jillian, Bill Kieffer and I have been thinking about asking Popeye for some time now. We think Rex knows more about Popeye than he let’s on, but when you get right down to it, we have no right to subject the big guy to a third degree. He’ll tell us what he wants to tell us when he wants to tell us if he wants to tell us. And, as Robert Blake used to say on his TV show Baretta, ‘That’s the name of that tune.’”

  Joe asks, “When was that show on? I never heard of it.”

  “Back in the mid-seventies. I was around six years old when the show went off the air, but I was a real Tony Baretta fan and used to repeat the line every time I heard him say it. From what my parents tell me, I did a pretty good imitation of the man.”

  With a wide grin on her face Jillian says, “Well, well. Who would have guessed? The scandal sheets will love this. I can see the headlines now. News Flash: Jacob ‘Red’ Borman comes out of the closet and reveals he’s been a TV junkie since toddlerhood.”

  “Slight correction. I’m a recovering TV addict in rehab now and I’m only allowed to watch the news and sports shows on weekends. If I regress and get busted, they take away my pizza and beer. If I become a two time loser, they take away my remote. If I become a three time loser, they yank the TV set. I’m a new man now and determined to stay on the straight and narrow.”

  The joking, the camaraderie and the fabulous breakfast help them to relax a little, but the tension is still there. Red asks. “Joe, how come you’re here instead of in Bettendorf? You’re making it a lot easier for the Chameleon to take a whack at you.”

  “Listen. There’s no way I could stay in Bettendorf knowing that you two are playing hide and seek with a homicidal maniac in the windy city. Being here doesn’t make me fell a whole lot better, but at least I’m not worrying about what might be happening. Now I can worry about what I know is happening. Besides, this guy robbed my casino. I want to be here when he’s taken down, so I can taunt him with my Italian wit.”

  Red asks, “Your Italian wit?”

  “Yeah, you know like ‘That’s what you get for messin’ wit casino managers.’ Or, ‘You’re a lucky loser, Lizard. You get to deal wit da cops instead of dealin’ wit me.’” Laughing he adds, “Jay Leno and Ray Romano have nothing on me.”

  When they finish groaning Jillian says, “We’re going to miss you, Joe. Maybe they’ll find a cure for what ails you. I’ll pray that they do.”

  Red joins in the mocking with, “Maybe it’s the cigars and cigarettes. Maybe you should switch to jelly beans. President Reagan swore by them. He claimed that they gave him a boost of energy and enabled him to think more clearly and your mind definitely needs some clearing.”

  This scintillating repartee went on for another half hour until they were interrupted by Red’s cell phone ringing. It was Rex trying to find out where everybody went. “Joe Amato, Jillian and I are down in the coffee shop. Popeye was with us earlier, but he took off to place a call to Tucker. I’ll tell you all about that when I see you.”

  “No need. Popeye called Tucker and Tucker called me. When are you coming back? It might be a good idea if we all stayed low here until the Chameleon is sighted. It’s safer here than on the streets and all of us being in one place simplifies communications. Tucker and Vince are staying in frequent contact with each other and Tucker calls me whenever he has something new to report. When he calls me, I can easily pass his info on to all of you. Where’s Joe staying?”

  “We just have to pay our bill and then we’ll heading for your private elevator. Hold on a sec. Joe, Rex wants to know where you’re staying.”

  “Here. I checked in last night.”

  “Rex, he’s staying here.”

  “Tell him he can stay with us if he wants.”

  “Joe, you can stay with us in the penthouse if you want.”

  “Tell Rex I accept his invitation and give him my thanks. At three hundred and fifty a night, tell him my wallet thanks him also.”

  “Rex, Joe accepts your invitation and says thanks. At three hundred and fifty bucks a night, his wallet also thanks you.

  “Okay. I’ll send the elevator down and put it on manual. Just hit the button and the doors will open. See you all in a few minutes.”

  Chapter 68

  For the rest of the day and the next two, there is no sign of the Chameleon. The banter has ceased and been replaced by knuckle cracking, pacing and overeating.

 

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