Sharks - Matt Rogers (classic books for 11 year olds txt) 📗

‘That’s a guess. All of this is guesswork. I don’t like it.’

‘Think about it. The three major players were a judge, a sheriff and a DA. Smart public figures, no matter how depraved they were. You think they were hoarding their dirty money under their mattresses? They’re a little more sophisticated than that. They’re sure as hell not keeping it in American banks and risking investigative journalists getting hold of financial statements.’

Slater said, ‘So where’s this lieutenant going?’

‘If only there were businesses in this town you could wash cash through under the guise of gambling.’

Slater went quiet.

King could sense him eyeing the towering casinos in the skyline.

Then Slater shivered.

King said, ‘What?’

‘I don’t have a great track record with casinos.’

‘I know you were a degenerate when you were with Black Force.’

Slater shook his head. ‘Not that.’

‘Oh.’

King remembered.

Shien, the little girl Slater had rescued from the depths of an entertainment complex in Macau. He’d pulled her out of hell and given her a life. She was the closest thing he’d ever had to a daughter. But his life was danger, pain, suffering, and anyone who lingered around him bore the consequences of that existence. She hadn’t deserved that, so he’d set her up with a foster family and let her pass out of his life.

Now King eyed the skyline, too. ‘Do you want to do this?’

Slater nodded.

‘Once we start,’ King said, ‘it’s irreversible.’

‘Is it ever not?’

King didn’t answer.

The seconds drew out — now they felt like hours.

Then the squad car took an exit.

An unexpected exit.

The lieutenant wasn’t heading for the Strip.

Slater eyed King warily, who shrugged and gestured to follow. Sometimes they were simply wrong. Maybe it wasn’t cash. Maybe it was something worse…

They drove north through Spring Valley, taking deserted side streets instead of congested roadways, which made the tail awfully difficult. Slater eventually had to resort to desperation, killing the headlights and risking a head-on collision with passing traffic.

Finally the squad car reached its destination, northwest of the Strip, surrounded by ordinary suburbia.

Lagoon Hotel & Casino.

A blue-collar joint, cheap and janky compared to the famous establishments with quite literally billion-dollar budgets. The Wynn alone cost $2.7 billion to build. At a glance King put the Lagoon Hotel & Casino in the multi-million dollar range — nothing to scoff at — but for a casino in Las Vegas it was amateur hour. He’d seen a bunch of similar places over the time he’d resided here in Vegas. There were a few of them off the Strip, scattered around the cosy suburbs, and they catered largely to locals wanting a splash of pleasure without having to venture into the glowing metropolis of the city centre. These places were less intimidating to salary workers and small business owners keen to throw a few dollars on low-stakes blackjack.

Lagoon was a big blocky structure probably sporting a few hundred rooms, a small casino and a couple of reputable bars and restaurants. No big brands, no flashing lights, no extravagant fountains or valets waiting for arriving vehicles. But it was deliberate, a vintage throwback to simpler times, and what little exterior decoration there was gave off a faux-Hawaiian vibe. There were a couple of palm trees, and the feature wall beside the entranceway was adorned with a graffiti-style artwork of an island woman in a bikini offering a flowery lei.

The lieutenant parked his squad car in the largely deserted parking lot, got out, snatched up the duffel bags and looked around.

Slater hovered the Audi in the shadows, the engine whisper-quiet, the headlights off.

The cop didn’t find anything amiss.

He started for the entrance. An elderly couple in cheap Hawaiian shirts passed him by on their way out, arm in arm, the wife swaying from going one cocktail over her limit. Date night, wrapping up by a predetermined bedtime. A simpler life.

Then someone with a less simple life appeared.

He was European — he looked stereotypically Greek or Italian — and he bled out of the entranceway like he specialised in discretion. His jet black hair was slicked back with gel, exposing a widow-peak hairline and a wrinkled face. He could be fifty, but King guessed he was younger, only with considerable mileage that had aged him prematurely. He was too far away to scrutinise properly, but King could recognise the cold eyes of a mob man. The guy went to shake the cop’s hand as he passed, then spotted his hands full with the duffels and abandoned the gesture. He gave the bags a long look, then jerked his head to the right. An imperceptible motion, but King and Slater had been trained to pick up on exactly those types of instructions.

The cop veered to the right and disappeared into Lagoon.

Slater said, ‘The cop’s known to the staff.’

King looked at the Italian and said, ‘That guy isn’t staff.’

‘I know,’ Slater said. ‘But they’re all in cahoots.’

‘You take him,’ King said. ‘I’ll try and get backstage. You feed me what I need to know when I need to know it.’

‘You got your earpiece switched on?’

King touched a finger to the Bluetooth device in his inner ear and was met with a soft electronic beep. ‘Yes.’

‘Then let’s go.’

Nothing more to it.

Earlier in their careers they might have deliberated over it for longer. After all, they were technically infiltrating an organised crime operation.

Now, they might as well have been sleepwalking.

Slater parked in a side street. They got out and went their separate ways.

The night swallowed them.

6

Slater walked into the building like he belonged.

Which was half the game, right there.

He was something of a master at it.

Gait cocky, every movement purposeful, he sauntered into the lobby and surveyed a deliberately tacky wooden post in the middle of the carpeted space made to look like it was skewered into a tropical pier. Faded signs fashioned into arrows at their edges gave directions to the hotel, the casino, the main bar and a seafood restaurant. A couple of bored-looking reception staff stood at attention behind a desk against the