The Black Chip

by Gary Land

  “Wait a minute,” Collins interrupted. “I heard it was over three million.”

  “You were wrong. Now, really, I can’t go into more detail than that,” Buckley said.

  “Is that because you don’t know any more detail or you don’t want to play with us anymore?” Noly asked.

  “Noly.” Collins gave him a look. “Mr. Buckley, we’ll be done in a second. Is your two point eight million in unauthorized wire transfers by any chance related to the missing money at the Platinum Palace?”

  Buckley fidgeted with his vest some more. “I’d rather not say.”

  “That sounds like a confirmation to me,” Noly said. “Buckley, aren’t you the least bit bothered that your co-worker has been murdered?”

  “She made her choices, and--”

  “She didn’t choose to die.”

  “She chose the people she associated with; she chose to steal millions...” Buckley caught himself and stopped talking.

  “Now it’s stealing, huh? What happened to unauthorized? Noly asked.

  “Well, it amounts to the same thing, doesn’t it?” Buckley smirked when he said it.

  “What people did she associate with--what are you talking about?” Collins asked.

  “That man who was killed. Well, obviously the two murders are connected.”

  “Why is that? Ms. Thomas knew Joey Trainor?”

  “He was the boyfriend, I suppose. She brought him to the company picnic, the holiday party, company dinners.”

  “The boyfriend, huh? Small world, isn’t it?” Collins looked at Noly. “So Jennifer is wire transferring money out of the Casino’s account, while Joey is somehow covering it up on his end,” Collins speculated. “But where did she transfer the money?”

  “Why don’t you ask the mobsters that killed Trainor?” Buckley asked.

  “Mobsters? Why do you say that?” Collins said.

  “Isn’t it obvious? He was killed...I believe the term is ‘execution style.’”

  “Did the police release that to the media?” Noly asked Collins.

  “No, they didn’t. How would you know that, Buckley?” Collins demanded.

  Buckley swallowed. His upper lip formed a bead of sweat as Collins and Noly backed him into a corner. “You...you’re mistaken. I heard it on the news.”

  The door opened, and two dark-suits--one blue, one black--entered and quickly scanned the room. No smiles, no personality. The blue suit was a woman.

  “Ah, I see the F-B-I has arrived,” Noly said facetiously.

  “Gentlemen, this meeting is over,” said Black-Suit.

  When Noly and Collins got downstairs, it was after three o’clock. They both put on matching sunglasses (great minds think alike,) and walked over to Noly’s car.

  “Did the police release that to the media,” Noly asked.

  “Beats me, but the little twerp sure got nervous, didn’t he? Collins said.

  “I’m not done with him,” Noly barked.

  “Hey, do you really know Scott Newhouse?” Collins asked.

  “No,” Noly replied.

  “Then how...”

  “The bank website has his name and office number. I made up the home and cell number--entered it in my cell before I got here.”

  Collins just shook his head. “And if he had called your bluff?”

  “Guy like that doesn’t call bluffs--he’s a scared little rodent masquerading as a King Cobra.”

  “Little rodents like to steal things though,” Collins said. “I wonder how much he really knows.”

  Noly looked across the street and saw a blue Honda Accord. He couldn’t see the windshield from his angle, so he started walking down the street. Collins followed--just two guys having a conversation.

  “How far did you get with the Palace?” Noly asked.

  “Not very,” Collins answered. “They won’t talk to us. I’m thinking of calling in the Gaming Board. They’re the only ones the casinos are afraid of.”

  “Don’t bother-–at least not now. I got an interview with Paul Thornton, head of security. Do you want in?”

  “Sure.”

  “One rule,” Noly said. “No talking. You’re only there to observe.”

  “Ha-ha.” Collins didn’t look amused. “Smart-ass.”

  Noly turned around and they headed back towards his car. He wasn’t very surprised to see the spider-crack under the driver’s windshield. He just wasn’t sure what button he pushed that caused someone to follow him.

  “What are we doing? Getting some exercise?” Collins asked.

  “Blue Honda across the street is following me--can you run the plate for me?”

  “Why don’t we just go ask him what he wants?”

  “Because as soon as you step off the curb, he’s going to take off.”

  Collins ignored Noly, and headed towards the Honda, which raced away when Collins’ foot was still in mid-air between the curb and the street.

  “They never listen,” Noly said. “Did you at least get the plate?”

  “Yeah, I got it.”

  When Collins had left, Noly pulled out his cell phone and made a call. After several rings, he got the voice mail of John Watanabe, but didn’t bother leaving a message. He made a second call that was picked up on the first ring.

  “FBI-NW Regional Command Center,” said a female voice.

  “Is John Watanabe in the office?” Noly asked.

  “He can’t be disturbed,” was the clipped answer.

  “This is Noly Boots, I need to speak--”

  “Mr. Boots...I’m sorry, please hold.”

  Two minutes went by and Noly looked at his cell screen to see if he had been disconnected. The call was still active. He walked back to his car, climbed in, and cranked the air conditioner up. The connection finally went through with two distinct clicks.

  Watanabe came on the line, sounding winded. “Noly, sorry about the delay.”

  “Hi, John--thanks for taking the call. I thought you couldn’t be disturbed.”

  “I have a short list of names that I’ve given to all the operators. I’m to be notified immediately if any of them call. You’re on the list.”

  Noly paused. “I appreciate that, John. I think I need your help.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Noly told him about Sarah and Kacy, and the details of the case so far. And how he was being stone-walled by the local FBI.

  “Okay, Noly, let me look into it. I’ll get back to you. I’m sorry about Sarah and Kacy.”

  “Thanks, John. Take care of yourself.”

  Chapter 19

  Noly pulled his Escalade into the semi-circular drive fronting the PP Casino, gave the valet twenty dollars and told him to keep the car up front. Collins was already there, his car parked in a red zone.

  Noly and Collins entered the Platinum Palace casino at four o’clock. They were running late, but Noly didn’t think Thornton would mind. Thornton wasn’t exactly known for his punctuality--more often than not, he was late. Not because he couldn’t arrive on time, but because he insisted on the attention a person of his stature deserved--at least in his own mind. He wanted everyone in the room to know that he was the most important person there.

  Collins greeted Noly and handed him a piece of paper. “Spider-crack is registered to a Jerome Glasser, he’s a--”

  “Private investigator,” Noly finished. “Who the hell is he working for?”

  “He has several cars registered to his company--here’s a list--why don’t you ask him next time.”

  They rode the elevator up to the third level where the security operations center occupied the entire floor. When the doors opened an armed security officer, hand on gun, immediately confronted them, and requested identification. He then escorted them to the end of the hall where a doublewide steel door blocked their way. The guard entered a numeric code into the touch pad located to the right of the door. After a moment, the door buzzed and opened with a loud snap as metal cylinders disengaged from the door
and slid into corresponding holes recessed into the doorjamb.

  Noly and Collins stepped through and the guard closed the door and re-engaged the lock behind them.

  “It’s like a bank vault--you see any other exits?” Collins asked Noly.

  “Relax.”

  “I’d hate to see what would happen during a fire. Hope they have a good escape route planned.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, just a little claustrophobic in here, don’t you think?”

  The room they had stepped into looked like a normal office with about twenty people, mostly women, working at standard-issue desks. Not quite what Collins had expected.

  Several of the women looked up from their work to see who had entered the hallowed confines of the SECOPS. Most did double takes when they saw Noly. Collins read a sign on the back wall:

  SEC-OPS = Security Operations = SE-COPS

  (the Cops that See everything)

  “These guys are pretty full of themselves, aren’t they?” Collins said.

  An older woman, in a business suit, walked up and introduced herself as the office manager--no name, just “office manager.” She noticed Collins looking at the sign.

  “Mr. Thornton got tired of answering the same question over and over again, so he had the sign put up. The see-cops thing was his idea too,” she said.

  “Doesn’t sound quite so cool if you have to explain it. And, of course, they’re not really cops,” Collins replied.

  “Yes, well...if you’ll step down to that book case over there, I’ll buzz you through.”

  They moved down to the bookcase as instructed. Noly looked at the framed print hanging on the wall in front of them. It was a picture that had hundreds of eyes staring off in every direction. Seeing nothing yet seeing everything.

  “Boy, this guy loves the symbolism, doesn’t he?” Collins asked.

  The hidden door clicked open; Noly pushed the faux wooden bookcase, and entered the observation room followed closely by Collins, who pushed the door closed behind him. This room, SECOPS, was half a football field long--and dark.

  “Somebody put the frickin lights on,” Collins said.

  “They keep the lights low on purpose,” Noly said, “it’s easier on the eyes.”

  There were at least two dozen techs watching multiple monitors, searching for cheaters, scam artists, and general all-around bad guys. At about the same time Collins realized how cold it was in the room, he noticed that all the techs were wearing jackets or sweaters.

  “What’s with the temperature?” Collins asked Noly.

  “We keep it at sixty degrees--better for the computer equipment.” It was Thornton who answered. He was shorter than Collins, but stocky with broad shoulders. Probably ex-football player thought Collins. He had a thick, Tom Selleck type mustache.

  “Hiya, Noly--good to see you.”

  “Paul, this is Jim Collins, my...associate.”

  “You mean Detective Collins?” Thornton asked.

  “Yep, that’s him,” Noly answered, realizing that the guard in the hallway probably called in the ID’s while they were waiting in the outer office.

  “I said I’d meet with you, Noly--not the police.”

  “You’re going to have to meet with us sooner or later,” Collins said.

  “Oh, why is that?” Thornton asked.

  “One of your employees is dead; we have an on-going investigation.”

  “Joey didn’t work for me, and this area is restricted.” Thornton knew he controlled this conversation. Collins had no real authority here, especially not to question him.

  “What about the missing three million dollars?” Collins asked.

  “Is there money missing? That’s just a rumor, detective.”

  “What’s with all the secrecy then?” Collins demanded.

  “Jim.” Noly waited for Collins to look at him. “I guess that keep your mouth shut stuff only works one way, huh?”

  “Jeez, I’m sorry Noly, but this guy...”

  “This guy is now kicking your ass out of here, detective.”

  Collins was turning red in the face. He wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, especially when he was on the job. Noly pulled him away from Thornton and spoke to him in a soft voice.

  “Wait outside for me--I’ll let you know everything I find out anyway...let this go.”

  Collins turned back to Thornton. “I’ll be keeping an eye out for you on the outside.”

  “That’s great, detective...when you join the Gaming Commission then I’ll start worrying.”

  After Collins left, Noly turned to Thornton and gave him the glare. “You alienate my friends, you alienate me.”

  Thornton took a half-step back and seemed to lose confidence. “Sorry.”

  Thornton walked Noly over to an isolated control center where one of his technicians sat, his fingers flying over the keyboard. He stopped and used the track ball to his right, then went back to the keyboard. He repeated the pattern several times, and then finally nodded to Thornton that he was ready--he had found the digital files he was looking for.

  He stood up and let Thornton sit down and take over. The monitor jumped to life and showed Joey frozen in the hallway. At the touch of another button, the still frame disappeared and video of that night played out.

  Joey approached the guard station near the south exit.

  Thornton hit the pause button.

  “There are two ways to enter and leave the Computer Center,” Thornton told Noly, “south and west, but Joey didn’t know the guards on duty on the west door, so that’s why we think he left this way. There are always two guards on duty at any given time. That night it was Louie Rodriguez and Phil Swanson.”

  Thornton hit play again.

  “Hey, Joey, calling it a night, huh?” Louie asked.

  “Yep.”

  Joey placed his briefcase on the table so that Louie could search it, as was standard practice. Joey automatically emptied his pockets and placed the contents in a tray then let Phil frisk him and complete the search.

  “I’ve got a laptop in my right front pocket,” Joey joked, trying to ease his nerves.

  “Har-dee-har-har,” Phil said, clearly not amused. “Never heard that one before.” He looked down at the tray, and asked Joey, “What’s with the casino chip?”

  “What do you mean--it’s used for gambling.” Joey said, smiling.

  Phil picked it up and Joey’s smile left his face. He looked over at Louie who was finishing up with the briefcase. He clicked it shut and rolled his eyes at Phil.

  “Come on Phil, let the guy go home.”

  “Not supposed to bring chips in here,” Phil offered.

  “That’s his lucky chip, right, Joe? He had it with him the other day.”

  Joey was surprised he could speak, but he nodded his head and said, “Yeah, I won four hundred last weekend in craps.” He picked up the other items in the tray and waited for Phil to hand him the black chip. After several tense moments, he flipped it to Joey.

  Thornton hit the pause button once again, and the image froze on Joey as he was about to catch the black chip.

  Except for the hum of the computer fans and the clicking of keyboards, the room was silent. Noly and Thornton said nothing. They both stared at the screen deep in thought. The tech stood by Thornton’s side pretending to be uninterested in what was happening.

  “Can we follow him--Joey--until he leaves the casino?” Noly requested.

  “Sure, we...” the tech started, but Thornton put his hand out to stop him. Thornton immediately thought better of it, and told Noly that they would need a few minutes to track Joey through the various casino cameras, and put together a contiguous trail.

  Noly moved off to the side and pretended to watch another tech tracking a blackjack game in the high-rollers area. He was really listening to the tech whisper an apology to Thornton. He only heard parts of the conversation. Sounded like “...I didn’t know...I thought you’d want...happen again.”
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  After a few more minutes, Thornton called Noly back over to the monitor.

  “We’ve got it queued up,” Thornton said.

  Thornton sat down next to the Tech and nodded to him to start. Noly watched the Tech toggle some switches and the screen went black. Suddenly, Joey Trainor popped onto the monitor as he exited a hallway door and entered the casino. Noly leaned in to get a closer look.

  Joey walked nervously through an early evening crowd of gamblers, his eyes darting back and forth, with an occasional peek up at the overhead cameras.

  Noly spotted him almost instantly. A man in a gray suit was following Joey. He looked to be early fifties, balding, except for some gray around the fringes. Not tall, maybe five-eight. He didn’t look that much different from Captain Pickard on Star Trek, only this guy seemed more Borg-like than the Captain ever was.

  The monitor flicked and Noly knew they were now looking at the feedback from a different camera. Joey sat down at Sarah’s table, the first seat on her left. Seeing Sarah made Noly’s heart skip. Why did it take something like this for him to realize what she meant to him?

  Joey and Sarah smiled at each other, although it looked somewhat forced. They talked for a while--Sarah looked upset--Joey looked up into the overhead camera for a moment--he stood up, then--bingo--Joey dropped something into Sarah’s tip box.

  “Son-of-a-bitch.” It was Thornton.

  Noly looked at Thornton. “You haven’t seen this before?”

  “No, I...I didn’t think...” Thornton seemed genuinely surprised to see Joey handing whatever it was over to Sarah.

  “Go back and zoom in if you can,” Noly said.

  Sarah wasn’t expecting it either. She looked pissed off, and Noly knew what that looked like.

  Thornton expertly used the mouse to go back several frames and then zoom in on Joey’s hand. He let the images play out again, but it wasn’t clear what Joey had in his hand. It seemed obvious to Noly that it was the black chip they had seen the guard throw to Joey in the hallway, but he wanted to be certain if he could.

  Thornton played out the rest of the video on Joey, who seemed to notice the man in the gray suit. He talked some more with Sarah. Looked like he was asking Sarah to do something--she shakes her head, then she reluctantly agrees. Joey quickly turns and walks away, while Gray Suit follows.