Casino Capers

by Dan Kelly

  “Nothing yet. It’s tough going walking up these stairs with these fumes suffocating us, so we’ve only managed to reach the sixteenth floor. Popeye and I are headed to the attic for a look see while my men search the floors below.”

  “Okay, I’ll give a shout when the gas masks arrive.”

  Chapter 72

  As Popeye and Tucker are slowly and carefully making their way up the stairs to the attic Popeye’s thinking, “Damn, I can’t fire the rifle or the handgun I brought along for backup with all these fumes floating about. I’d blow myself, Tucker and any of his men in the stairwells to kingdom come.”

  Then his earlier conversation with Tucker crosses his mind and he realizes just how precarious the situation is. “If this guy is determined to burn this place down even if it means he might die in the fire and he’s armed like he’s been in the past, he might get desperate enough to start firing if he feels we’ve got him cornered and there’s no way out for him.”

  He’s about to share his thoughts with Tucker, but they’ve reached the top landing and Tucker has put his forefinger to his lips. Putting his ear to the door and hearing nothing, Tucker quietly tries to open it, but it’s locked. He points to Popeye and then to the lock. Popeye gets the message and uses another of his clandestine talents, picking locks. It’s a simple lock and Popeye has it opened in seconds.

  Popeye slowly, cautiously opens the door, peers into the attic and sees or hears nothing. Popeye silently signals Tucker that on the count of three they’ll rush into the attic and make a quick sweep with their weapons, Popeye going in high and Tucker low.

  They burst into the attic to find nothing there but an overwhelming flood of fumes which almost puts them on the floor. There were no fumes when Popeye and Jimmy were there earlier. The skylight door has been closed, so Tucker quickly reopens it and then they quickly exit the attic and head back downstairs to the lobby to regroup.

  When they get there, all of Tucker’s men have returned from their search of the upper floors. They found one little black box on the twelfth floor landing which they disabled, but nothing else. They knocked on all of the apartment doors, many were opened and a quick search was made, but fifteen doors remained closed with no one acknowledging the raps on the door. The occupants of the other thirty apartments were told what was going on and evacuated, but there was no indication of the Chameleon or the other man anywhere.

  When Clyde responded to the knock on his door by asking who was there, Tucker’s men identified themselves and explained what they were doing. Even though Clyde’s bodyguards had been informed by Tucker that the Chameleon was in the building and Tucker and his men were nearby, they weren’t taking any chances of being fooled by the Chameleon. They told Clyde to open the door while they hid behind it. When Tucker’s men entered the apartment, they were surprised to find the two bodyguards standing behind them, guns drawn and aimed at their heads. Tucker’s men, of course, were also armed and had entered the apartment with their guns in their hands at their sides. Clyde yelled, “Don’t anybody shoot.” Quickly explaining to Tucker’s men in a scared to death stutter, “These, these are my, my bodyguards sent by Vincent Velossi to protect me from the Chameleon.” The four armed men stared at each other for just a moment, but to Clyde and Curtis Crowley it seemed like an eternity. Then, one by one, each of them holstered their weapons as they remembered the pictures that Vince and Tucker had passed around in case something like this happened.

  Clyde relaxed, glad the moment was over, but Curtis, true to form, blew his stack, yelling and swearing at Tucker’s men for coming into the apartment with weapons drawn, threatening to sue everybody but God for the dangerous predicament that he and his brother were mired in.

  While Tucker and Popeye are being debriefed, Nate and a fireman come into the lobby, toting a bunch of gas masks. Tucker exclaims to the fireman, “Thank you, thank you, you’re a lifesaver. Those fumes are powerful and if exposed to them long enough could put us out cold. We were fortunate to get back down to the lobby without passing out. Thanks a lot.”

  Addressing the fireman Tucker says, “Since the Chameleon has to know he’s been found out and is hiding somewhere in the building, it probably would be a good idea for your chief to move your firefighting equipment into position just in case our whacko strikes a match before we can find and subdue him. If a fire does break out, the sooner you guys can get to it the better.”

  “I’ll pass your suggestion along. Good luck to you and I hope you won’t need us.”

  The fireman headed for the door and Tucker turned back to the group and said, “Okay, where do we stand? Nate and Don have found and disabled the igniter in the basement and turned the power and water back on. A big exhaust fan is in the process of sucking out the fumes down there. What is most likely the only igniter in the stairwells has been located on the twelfth floor landing and it’s been disabled.

  “Don is in the process of getting the windows on the landings open and window exhaust fans are being put in them to suck the fumes out of the stairwells.

  “The attic is loaded with fumes which overwhelmed Popeye and me and we had to back out in a hurry or pass out. We didn’t have time to look for an igniter. Now that we have gas masks we can do that.

  “We can also have an exhaust fan positioned at the open skylight to suck out the fumes in the attic. If there’s no igniter in the attic or we locate and disable any that are planted there and get the fumes out of there and the stairwells, we will have pretty much put the kibosh on the Chameleon’s plan to burn the building down.

  “The man is obviously having trouble summoning up enough courage to immolate himself to exact revenge for what he perceives as a great injustice surrounding his brother’s death because no one was punished for it.

  “Let’s hope that he continues to struggle with his backbone until we complete a thorough search of the attic or at least get the fumes out of there.

  “I think it’s safe to assume the Chameleon is hiding in one of the apartments where my men got no response. The big question is which one?”

  Popeye turns to Don and asks, “Do you have a list of the names of the people who live in each apartment and their phone numbers?”

  “I do. I keep it in my office in the basement.”

  “Are all of the apartments rented?”

  Yes they are. We haven’t had a vacancy for years.”

  “Okay, put on one of these gas masks and go get that list and bring it here. We can check with the tenants that have been evacuated to see if they can gives us any information on the tenants living in the other fifteen apartments. They might know if any of them are out of town for some reason. That could explain why there was no response at some of the doors.

  “Some people could just be heavy sleepers, some could be bedridden and others out for the day or at work. We know that behind one of those fifteen doors the Chameleon and the other guy with him are hiding, perhaps holding the tenant or tenants who live there hostage. When I start picking locks, it would help us to know if there might be a hostage situation waiting for us when we open the doors.

  “Where we’re confident that there isn’t a hostage situation, we can rush into the apartment with guns drawn, ready to shoot anything that moves. Where we’re not confident, we’ll have to be more cautious and careful not to frighten any tenants that are home alone who didn’t answer the knock on their door for some reason or are being held hostage and our storming in could get them hurt or killed.”

  While the janitor went and got the list, Tucker and Popeye donned gas masks and headed for the attic. An exhaust fan has been placed in the skylight, but the attic is still smothered with fumes. Their search uncovers a little black box hidden in the rafters and, greatly relieved, they rush back to the lobby. Don is waiting for them with the list and the rest of Tucker’s men gather around awaiting instructions.

  Interviewing the evacuated tenants, it is determined that six of the fifteen apartments are vacant due to people being on vac
ation or being at work. This leaves nine apartments where nobody is home or they’re home and for some reason just didn’t want to answer the knock on the door or, in one case, someone’s home, but is being held hostage.

  Popeye’s thinking, “Man, what a crapshoot this is turning out to be.”

  Tucker says, “Okay, it’s time for us to close in and put an end to this guy’s vendetta once and for all. There will be two man teams assigned to cover the elevators on each floor. There will be two man teams assigned to each apartment to make sure no one leaves without being checked out. There will be two man teams on the front and back doors with the rest of you forming a perimeter around the building outside in case he tries to escape by way of an apartment window.

  “Since Popeye is the only one here who has lock picking talent, the onus is on him to pick the lock on each apartment door, starting with the apartments closest to the attic. The two man team assigned to each apartment will provide backup when Popeye and I go in. Any questions?”

  There are none, so assignments are made and the hunt begins.

  Chapter 73

  Popeye and Tucker work their way down from the 23rd floor to the 16th floor, finding every apartment empty. Popeye whispers to Tucker, “Could we be all wet, Tuck? Maybe this guy has eluded our net somehow and is long gone.”

  “If that’s the case, I’ll retire and take up deep sea fishing. If the cordon I set up around this place has any openings he could slip through, I’ve lost it and should move on to something else.”

  “You’re that sure he’s still here?”

  “You better believe it. You know how seasick I get just thinking about being on the water.”

  Smiling, Popeye remembered the last time they were on a sailboat together chasing some goons off the coast of North Carolina who had tried to intimidate an executive of an import/export company to store and distribute contraband for their boss. Tucker got so seasick he wound up barfing all over their captives while they were arresting and handcuffing them. The crooks were only too glad to surrender and squeal on their boss if Tucker would just get away from them. His skin got so pale it was almost translucent and he was sweating buckets.

  On the fourteenth floor, things started to get dicey. Popeye picked the lock on the door to 14B, but when he tried to open the door it wouldn’t budge; deadbolt. Someone was in there, but keeping quiet. Scanning down the list of apartment tenants Popeye knocks and then wings it. “Mrs. Delinquest, this is Mr. Petersen. I work for Mr. Crowley. He wants to repaint all of the apartments and he wants to know what colors you would like. Mrs. Delinquest, please open the door. I know your home. Your car is in the garage. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You can call Mr. Crowley and he’ll verify who I am. I stopped by earlier and knocked, but I guess you were taking a nap or just didn’t hear me. Mrs. Delinquest?”

  From what Don has told him about Mrs. Delinquest, she’s eighty years old, doesn’t drive and her hearing is as good as a concert pianist’s. Popeye’s hoping she’ll recognize the misstatements for what they are; an alert that someone knows what’s going on and is trying to help her, if she is indeed in there. “Mrs. Delinquest? Please call Mr. Crowley and check me out with him. I’ll stop by later, so you can tell me what colors you would like. Okay?”

  There’s still no response and no sounds whatsoever are coming from the apartment. Tucker waves Popeye down the hall to the elevator and softly says, “If Mrs. Delinquest is home alone, she would have at least acknowledged us by telling us to go away, leave her alone, she would call Mr. Crowley, something. That leaves us with two alternatives. She isn’t there and the Chameleon and the other guy are or she’s there being held a hostage. The only thing the Chameleon knows for sure is that someone has landed on the roof looking for him. He has no idea that we’ve disabled his toys and is probably hoping to stay in hiding until he gets enough courage to torch the place or whoever is looking for him gives up and goes away so he can skedaddle.

  “What I want you to do is go back over to the roof of the building we were on before. You’ll have a clear view of that apartment’s windows and maybe with the high powered scope on that rifle you can see into the apartment and get a decent idea of what we’re up against. I don’t want you to take a shot at the Chameleon, even if an opportunity presents itself. For now, I just want you to see what you can see and report back to me. I don’t want to take any chances with Mrs. Delinquest’s well-being unless we have no other choice.”

  “Understood.”

  Five minutes later Popeye is in position on the roof of the other building sighting in on apartment 14B. Bad news. Mrs. Delinquest is home and she has company. She’s sitting on a couch in the living room with her hands folded in her lap. “At least some consideration was shown for her age. She’s not tied to a kitchen or dining room chair and her mouth isn’t taped. The Chameleon probably figures the old lady can do no harm and by threatening to hurt her or worse she would keep her mouth shut. So far, the strategy appears to be working.”

  Both the Chameleon and the other guy have guns in their hands and appear to be arguing. “Well, that clears up the matter of whether the other guy is a friend or foe.”

  Flipping open his cell, he reports back to Tucker. “Well, that’s good news, Popeye.”

  “What’s good about this news?”

  “We now know where the Chameleon is, we know that the other guy isn’t a hostage so we don’t have to worry about him getting hurt and we know that as of yet no harm has come to Mrs. Delinquest. That’s good news in my book.”

  “Tucker, you got a screwball in that apartment with a gun and another guy with a gun who has to be off his rocker to be helping the screwball arguing with each other. If either one of them gets too angry or too jumpy, Mrs. Delinquest could wind up seriously injured or on a slab in the morgue. That’s a bad news scenario in my book.”

  “Popeye, you always were a pessimist.”

  “Okay, Mr. Optimist. What do we do now?”

  “Do you think Jillian Prevot could help us out here, maybe negotiate with the Chameleon to release Mrs. Delinquest?”

  “I don’t know, Tuck. She’s one smart and capable lady, but she’d really be dealing with a stacked deck if she agreed. He thinks she’s dead by his hand. There’s no telling what he might do if he finds out that she’s bamboozled him again.”

  “Well, we could call in a hostage negotiator from the Chicago Police, but she once had a communication channel open between them, had some of his trust and maybe he liked her a little. If there’s any positive feeling left in him about her, maybe she can tap into it. Give her a call, Popeye, and see what she thinks about her chances of reestablishing some rapport with him. If we bring in a stranger to try to negotiate with him, we’ll be starting from ground zero and maybe not even get off the ground. I’m worried that the more time that goes by without something happening to his liking, the more he’s likely to flip out. If that happens, Mrs. Delinquest’s life could be in serious jeopardy.”

  “Okay, I’ll call her.”

  Rex answers and Popeye says, “I have no time for explanations right now, Rex. Is Jillian there? It’s very important that I speak with her right away.”

  A few seconds later Jillian is on the phone firing questions at him, but the first one made him feel good deep down inside. “Are you alright, Popeye?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. The reason I’m calling is that we’ve got the Chameleon cornered in an apartment and he’s got a hostage. Tucker and I thought you might be able to talk with him and convince him to let her go and surrender. How do you you feel about that?”

  “Boy, Popeye, I don’t know how that would fly with him. If he finds out that I’m not dead, that I’ve tricked him again, he could very well lose what self-control he has left and really go bonkers, taking out his anger on the hostage and anyone else he comes across.”

  “That’s a possibility, Jillian, but one thing’s a certainty. If we don’t do something very soon to gain his attention, to distract him f
rom committing more mayhem, he’s going to lose it completely anyway. He doesn’t know it yet, but we’ve neutralized his entire game plan to burn this apartment building down. If he manages to summon enough courage to go through with setting fire to this place believing it will consume him as well, if he starts pressing buttons and nothing happens, his frustration and anger will know no bounds.