He looked directly at her. “Of course I do. That crew didn’t just work Vegas. And I’d know even if that was their only stomping ground. I have some interests and friends there as well. I know who it is. He’s actually behind several crews. I know all the crews and I know when something happens.”
“Like when one of them gets murdered.”
“Yes.”
“Then you absolutely do know who killed him?”
“I know who ordered it.”
She sat forward.
“Back then there were only a half-dozen crews that were any good. We had to know them all. They were so good they could kill you if you didn’t get them banned. Sometimes, it went beyond that. Everyone thinks the Mint and Horseshoe that took things over in downtown Vegas were ripped off by the owners. It’s more complicated than that. A crew got into the big games. Very smart. They took a ton of money out of there.”
“I used to hear about the scores.”
“Everybody heard about them. In those days, you hurt a casino badly enough, you might want to watch your back. You could end up buried in the desert.”
“Or dumped in the garbage.”
“That, too.”
Chapter 27
B eth was fascinated by how Giambi lit a cigar, the preparation, snipping the end, rolling the cigar in the fire of his lighter. All so ceremonious.
But in her mind, all the misery of that day so many years ago came flooding back. The sheer horror of it. How do you live through something like that, she thought. But she had. She’d found a way to live through it. She fought to keep back tears.
Giambi nodded at some thought going on in his mind. Then, after a moment of drawing on his cigar he let the smoke go deep, then stream out. “You won’t have to look beyond him. It’s common knowledge that he ordered your father killed. He may have done the killing personally. They had a major falling out and when that happened, your father became a big liability. He knew way too much about how the operation worked and who was part of it.
“There were a number of very good crews working. MIT types,” Giambi said. His voice had an absent, almost hollow quality. He was thinking beyond his words. “Switchers so bold it was amazing. Before electronics played a big role, some of these crews were seriously talented magicians. They could cheat you while you were staring at every move they made. Even the eye-in-the-sky had a hard time because of how clever they could be. In the end, knowing who they were and going after them outside of the casino became part of the action that is rarely ever seen or reported. But, believe me, when a casino, or a private party, took a big enough hit, all bets were off and the game got nasty.
“For the crews, the biggest problem, besides watching over their shoulders, was the same as it was for all illegal organizations. Someone on the inside getting flipped by the feds or deciding to hang it up and go straight. Your father’s mistake was letting anyone know that’s what he had in mind, and not having a place to run and hide for a few years until the people he worked for decided he wasn’t going to rat them out.”
She told him about the “getaway” backpack and his plans to go back to his hometown in the North Carolina area. In the telling, she felt a little sick to her stomach. Sixteen years seemed to have erased nothing.
Giambi said, “He should have told no one and just went on and did it. He went down just at the time when the poker craze was getting going. Maybe, like you say, your father had decided, as a father, he needed to get his act together. But he hung around because he loved the game and the game was going ballistic. Got himself caught between his two great loves. You and the game. That was his tragedy. I understand it well.”
Beth stared blindly off toward the sea, and into the past. Giambi was exactly right. Her father had wanted to get out, but couldn’t. She remembered her father’s gaunt face, the stubble, the graying in his hair, the emerging bald spot, how thin he was at that time. The way, when sober, when not on anything, he would stare at her, grimacing, lips tight, and say things like, “This is not the way a young girl should grow up.” And she’d say she was fine. Happy. Don’t worry about it. But he did. He worried. She knew it more each year. His struggle was great. He wanted to do the right thing. He desperately wanted to change course. And he would have. She had no doubt about that.
“He actually thought they’d let him play it straight,” she said. “He wanted to get into legitimate tournament play. Have a more normal life. Get himself together.”
“Hardly ever happens for a guy in his situation,” Giambi said. “All the big money, TV money. A scandal, a hint of cheaters involved, it’s too great a risk for the powers that be. He could never have gotten into the big game with his rap.”
“Sometimes I feel guilty. If it weren’t for me—”
“No. Don’t do that,” Giambi said adamantly. “You were the innocent victim of circumstance. Your father made his own bed. Just like I made mine. You had no more to do with his mistakes than my daughter has with mine. It’s a waste thinking like that. Guilt requires action and intention. You did nothing. He made the mistakes that he, and you, paid a high price for. That’s just how it is. Let the guilty carry their own burden. Not the innocent. You didn’t even cause your father to decide to go straight. His desire to be a better person was the right thing for him to do regardless. But the bottom line is, in spite of his mistakes, somebody murdered him. His death was a decision, not an accident. There is where the real guilt lies.”
Giambi was a wise man with a lot of experience in the field of crime and punishment, guilt and revenge. And he had perspective. She said, “I know. You’re right. And that’s what I want from you. A name.”
Giambi pulled his cigar from his mouth, looked at her and said, “Justice and revenge are two different animals. As the Chinese proverb says, ‘he who seeks revenge digs two graves.’ There’s a lot of truth to that.”
He was very serious and it made her think hard about the situation. Focus on what she wanted. The weight of Giambi’s influence on her at the moment was considerable. She said, “You think it really matters who brings him down?”
“I think it matters whether you decide to kill him yourself, or bring him down using the law.”
“That sounds strange coming from you.”
“I’m sure. But look at where I’m headed. And look at the burden I’ve carried all these years. You don’t need that. Your father wouldn’t want that. If you kill this guy in self-defense, that’s one thing. But if you set out to assassinate him, that’s different. I don’t think that’s who you are.”
After a moment’s reflection, she said, “I agree.”
Being consumed by revenge, as she had been for so long, wasn’t something she’d wanted. Nor did she want to be consumed with guilt over having assassinated someone in cold blood in an act of revenge. She told Giambi how she felt, and what it had done to her over the years.
“I understand. I’ve spent my life doing it the wrong way. Because of that, I lost my freedom a long time ago. Guys like me are always looking over their shoulder.”
In spite of who he was, what he’d done in his life, Beth couldn’t help but feel some compassion for the man. No one had stopped him from his course early enough in his life. And it made her understand what her father had wanted to do. He’d wanted to stop her before it was too late. He’d seen signs of trouble, and there had been plenty of them.
“My father didn’t want to save himself,” she said. “He wanted to save me. And as terrible as it was, he did just that.”
Giambi nodded. “You’re absolutely right. I can see that you are somebody he would be very proud of.”
A few minutes later, Giambi got a phone call.
When he hung up he said, “The Greek, that bastard with the Midas touch, is going to steal my casino, my race shop and probably my driver.” Then he called JD, and told him to meet the Greek in the Cypress Bar.
Giambi turned to Beth. “You believe this guy? He’s ready to jump ship before it’s taken on any w
ater.”
“He’s got to find a ride somewhere.”
Beth followed Giambi across the floor of his great room. He glanced toward a room where the lawyers were working.
The Greek’s lawyers, four of them, had arrived ahead of their boss to begin working on the papers. The Greek was with Prince Albert at the moment, explaining the situation and getting his okay.
“I should burn this place to the ground.”
“Wouldn’t be worth much then.”
The lawyers filed into the conference room.
“But this is my baby. I built this. It’s what I am. If it weren’t that my daughter needs the money I wouldn’t sell to him. I’d give it to the city.”
Beth said, “Tell me more about your daughter’s financial problems.”
“The damn French government is going to make her dig up her vines.”
“Why?”
“French wine isn’t in demand. American and Australian wines are popular. The EU thinks if there’s less French wine, the lack of supply will support the price for the big growers. But it will kill the small vintners.”
“Then you are sacrificing for a good cause.”
The Greek arrived with his security retinue, entering like a professional boxer, tall men on either side, another behind, all of them moving smartly to his pace. JD was at the back of the pack.
Beth had the thought that most of the really rich men in the world were either short or nerds.
The Greek was an inch or two shorter than she was, but aggressively handsome in a roguish way, with wavy white hair and a sun-leathered face. He had bright eyes that glistened with anticipation of the bounty that was about to fall into his grasp. He kissed Beth’s hand with old-world elegance, bowing slightly.
“It is my pleasure to meet the famous Anne Hurley.”
“I wasn’t aware of my fame.”
“Such charm and beauty does not long go unrecognized.”
“You’re too kind.”
“You bring the best out in any man, I’m sure.”
Giambi looked like a man on his way to his execution as she watched him follow the Greek into the conference room.
Then his lawyers, four of them, came in and sat at the table with the Greek’s lawyers.
“How long will this take?” she asked JD. “You have any idea?”
“I think it’s a deal that’s already been approved by the prince. And what he wants, he gets. It’s not a negotiation at this point. Apparently, the prince is actually protecting Giambi. Other authorities here would like to make an example out of him. The prince wants him the hell out of here.”
Beth shook her head. She remembered Allison’s discussion of Giambi’s problems.
“The Greek told me that the prince is having him over for dinner tonight. He suggested you and I go along. I said I didn’t know if that was possible.”
Getting rid of Giambi as quickly as possible, especially after the shooting up of his car and the explosion of his chopper, suddenly took on a different light. Beth had been looking at only two possibilities. Now there were more.
Once the deal was complete, Beth wanted to get Giambi out of there as quickly as possible. Meeting Prince Albert might be interesting, but it wasn’t going to happen.
“We need to talk,” she said.
They went back to JD’s apartment.
“What?”
“The Greek.”
“What about him?”
“Did he make you any promises?”
“He mentioned the idea of my getting a ride. Soon. It looks like I might be part of the deal.”
“Like how soon?”
“Toronto.”
Beth studied JD for a moment. “How many conversations have you had with him?”
“Two. Well, one with him and one with one of his associates. They wanted to know what my plans were.”
“Both after the explosion?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Timelines. I just like to know who knew what, when. I need you to get us a vehicle. We’re getting the hell out of here.”
“You think—”
“I don’t know what to think. Anything is possible at the moment. Maybe the Greek is carrying out orders. Maybe the CIA is involved. Maybe the Pope for all I know right now. I just want to get moving and fast. Get a van. He’s got things he wants to give his daughter—”
“He’s got a daughter?”
“I’ll explain later. And tell nobody anything. If you want to make a deal with the Greek, do it after we take Giambi to see his daughter and then hand him over to the feds. That is, if you want to come with us.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, if necessary, I can take it from here. You don’t have to get in any deeper. You can stay here, go meet the prince—”
“Now you’re pissing me off. I’m going to get a van.”
“Park it where we can get to it without being seen. We’re leaving in the middle of the night. Are there blind spots in the executive parking lot?”
“No. I’ll leave in my car, come back in the van and be wearing a hat and different jacket. Nobody will think I’m anything but a customer. I know how to get into the private garage without being picked up by the cameras. Nobody needs to know I’m back. Where’s the daughter live?”
“He said it’s between Lorgues and Draguignan. You know where that is?”
JD nodded. “I’ve been through there.”
An hour later Giambi returned to his suite alone. She met him in the great room. He looked thoroughly miserable.
“The deal done?”
“Yes.”
“He take you to the cleaners?”
“When you’re the only game in town you get things the way you want them.” He looked around. “Well, I’m just a guest here now.”
“They gone?”
“Yes. And the sooner I get out of here, the better. When are we leaving?”
“A few hours. JD will put a van out in the back parking lot and move it up to your garage entrance when we’re ready to leave. Pack one suitcase and one travel bag. Destroy what you want to destroy, bring your laptop and any material you have to have. Clothes you can replace.”
“I can’t replace my shoes.”
“I understand, but you only get a couple pair. You can have everything else shipped to an address the feds will give you and they’ll make sure you get it later, when you’re settled.”
Giambi said, “You’ve done this sort of thing before? Come in and clean house?”
“Actually, no. You’re my first.”
Beth went into her room and sent a message to Delphi about her plans. She hoped to have the operation completely wrapped up in the next twenty-four hours and to be on her way home.
Delphi told her she was very pleased with her work. The feds had been contacted and would have a team waiting in Nice. When she was ready to hand Giambi over she simply needed to call the agent in charge.
JD called her a few minutes later and said he had the van and was on his way to the casino.
Beth found Giambi in the master bedroom to let him know they were getting ready to leave. He was laying out suits.
“You’re taking all those with you?”
“No. I wish I could. I’m giving these to Jason. He’s always loved my clothes. Man like that could never afford handcrafted Italian suits, shirts and shoes. But he always appreciated them. I have different tastes in clothes than I did back in my Vegas days.”
“I still keep thinking you probably met my father at one time or another back in those days.”
He brought another suit out of the walk-in closet. “Maybe.”
“Did you play poker yourself?”
“Not much. I was more of a house guy. I preferred taking a cut of the action. You never lose money. I’m a big believer in the steady incoming stream rather than the big hit.”
He laid the suit out with loving care. It was, he said, one of his favorites. All the cutting and stitching was, of cours
e, done by hand. This was an Ermenegildo Zegna. Linings and accessories made of either cotton, horsehair or silk. “Feel how soft.”
She touched the cloth and it was indeed very soft. Everything he had was handcrafted. Even the soles and linings of his shoes were personalized. He had, of course, half a dozen suits from the great couturier, Valentino. They were made by an atelier in Naples.
He showed her a Luciano Barbera, pointing out the gambero stitching, hand-sewn seams that covered the edges of the sleeves and cuffs. The dozen suits he laid out for Jason each had its own fabric-covered hanger and garment cover with Giambi’s initials.
He then laid out some Truzzi shirts and four pairs of Moreschi handmade shoes and a pair of loafers. “These might be the finest shoes in the world,” Giambi said. He pulled out the shoe kit with it’s nutrient-rich shoe creams and horsehair brushes and protective glazes.
“I think Jason is going to be a happy man,” Beth said.
“He has been the best houseman I’ve ever had. He is the ultimate butler. It’s the very least I can do for him.”
He called Jason in and told him to pack up the suits, shirts and shoes and take them somewhere out of the hotel. He handed the man a packet of money as well. Jason seemed more stunned than happy to be getting presents of suits and money. Giambi went off with him for a few minutes.
When he came back he said Jason was packing and would be gone in an hour.
“How about having a last drink to the Sapphire Star with me?”
“Make mine water. I’ve had enough alcohol in the past couple of days.”
Chapter 28
B eth and Giambi again went out on his balcony.
“I guess this is goodbye to my baby, my home.”
“You know, I’m sorry it ends this way for you.”
“Everything ends somehow. I’ve had a good run. A man gets to where I am, and stays there for as long as I have, can’t really get away with complaining. You want it to go on forever, but age teaches you to let go. It does that by weakening you, step by step. You fight it, but you know you’re fighting a losing battle.”
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