And Along Came Spider - The Entire Series, page 47
part #0 of And Along Came Spider Series
“So she’s here in Vegas,” Gloria finally caught on.
“She is,” Marti said.
“Why?”
“I suppose for the trial that starts Monday next.”
“But why? Raym’s dead.”
“I don’t know. Maybe she likes Virginia Koffee,” Martina said.
“I used to like her, too,” Gloria said. “Before she tried to kill you.” She pulled Martina in for a loving hug.
“So what are we going to do with her?” Jillian asked.
“We could buy a hundred black Dutch boy wigs to match my real hair, and stick them on every female in our employ. Even the housekeepers over at the motor court.”
“Wow, wouldn’t that be funny?” Gloria said, and laughed.
“I think that’s a great idea,” Jillian said. “I can have them here tomorrow, from my source in Hollywood, if you decide.”
“Get them,” Martina said, feeling a chill from the thought of what may happen if Sheela should peg her in some way—by her walk or stature, for instance. Maybe her eye color? “Jillian, can you get contact lenses that change eye color?”
“Sure. Any color. Even vampire red, if you want.”
“Now that’s interesting,” Gloria said.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
While Gloria passed through the office and down the stairs to start her day, Martina came down the elevator, cut through the casino and went up the stairs to the catwalk. Delaney, seeing this strange, although over the top sexy blond woman coming, sprang into action.
“Hold it right there, ma’am. No one is allowed up here but security personnel.” He held out a hand to drive her back. Not sure if she was in some way armed, the other hand went inside his jacket.
“Walter!” Martina shouted.
“Martina! God, is that you?”
“What were you about to do, shoot me?”
Delaney eyed her up and down. She was in a shapely low cut dress, looking very much like Brigitte Bardot. “What do you think I am? A guy would need to be crazy … Where’s the red?”
“Oh, damn. I knew I was forgetting something … I had red panties laid out,” she laughed.
“Can you think of a good reason why we shouldn’t go back to that room?”
“I can think of one,” Marti said. “You’re paid up, Delaney.”
Delaney’s smile faded. “Oh, come on, Martina!”
“No, you come on. A deal is a deal, remember. And those are your words, Walter. They don’t sound so good coming back at you, do they?”
“What about tonight, after I’ve reviewed the tapes?”
“Well … We’ll see,” she teased. “Maybe, if you’re nice. And promise never to make me miss breakfast again.”
“I’m sorry!”
“No you’re not,” she said, and brushed past him.
“Are you?” he asked, following along behind her.
“No!” She tossed him a sensuous smile.
“You’re hooked, aren’t you?”
“You think I’m … a fish?”
“Not at all,” Delaney said, “but you must admit we were quite good together.”
“It was fun, Walter, but don’t confuse that with love. Where I’m concerned, that would be a big mistake.”
“I didn’t get where I am by being a fool, Martina,” he said with an icy smile.
“And where are you?”
“Thirty and unattached. There are no barnacles growing on my keel, mate.”
“No, I suppose not,” Marti said, and looked about below. “Rolling stones gather no moss.”
“You got it.”
“Good. Then I’m glad we understand each other.”
It wasn’t long before Martina spotted Sheela Koffee entering the casino. And not long after that Jillian picked up on her, even though Sheela was in yet another wig. The plan discussed was to leave Sheela to her own devices for now, but keep a close eye on her nonetheless. In the meantime Martina picked up binoculars and began scouring the room for other suspicious characters.
Moments later Slade Brannagan entered the casino and went directly to the pit area where Gloria was overseeing the blackjack tables. He sidled up to her, said a few words, smiles were exchanged, and then he moved toward the stairs.
Then out of the corner of her eye, Martina saw a flash of red. It was Jillian on a dead run toward the back of the casino. Then with a flying leap, Jillian landed aboard a man in a brown suit, wearing a fedora to match, that was walking very fast toward Slade. Screaming like a Ubangi she succeeded in bringing the big man down, but not for long.
Slade, alerted by Jillian’s screams, turned in time to see her go flying, and the man struggling to get to his feet. By this time Martina, gun drawn, was running down the catwalk. When the man was fully upright, she saw an arm shoot out and in it was a revolver trained directly on Slade. Jillian got off the first several shots with her little chrome twenty-two, peppering the man’s legs. But it was Walter Delaney who beat Martina to the punch and put a thirty-eight slug into the man’s head, followed by two more to the chest, as he whirled about and limply fell to the floor.
“Oh my God!” Martina screamed and started for the stairs.
“Best not do that,” Delaney said, and took her arm. “It’s not safe for you down there. I’m going down. Cover me if you want.”
Knowing he was right, it took every fiber of her being to stay put. She should be there for Jillian, at least. But as it seemed, she was fine and milling around looking for any other suspicious characters that may be about.
Then, almost as if a delayed reaction, women from all over the casino began to scream and run in droves toward the entrance. Turning back, Martina caught sight of Gloria getting up from the floor. She looked around, saw Slade still standing at the base of the stairs, and headed his way.
Delaney checked the man for a pulse at the neck and then pulled out his wallet. He dug through it for a time, then put it back and stood. Tearing her attention away, Martina began searching the faces of those gathering around the dead man. Her heart was racing and her stomach was in her throat. Her eyes were now everywhere. She couldn’t shake the feeling another one was down there somewhere. Jillian must have thought the same, the way she milled in and out looking up at faces.
“Move back!” she heard Delaney’s voice say, but she didn’t look to him. “Everybody move back!” Then she saw him. Jillian had seen him, too. She was now directly across from him as the man moved around the crowd that had gathered. This one was also big and dressed similar to the other one, she noticed as he pushed and shoved his way forward. Glancing, she saw Slade and Gloria now embracing at the stairs. Gloria was crying.
The man would soon be past the densest part of the crowd. Jillian was ahead of him now. Martina moved farther down the ramp to get a better look at the man’s face. He had an ugly hooked nose and bushy eyebrows, she noticed. Bringing her pistol up now, she followed him with it, every step he took. Then the man made one last push and he was free of the crowd. That’s when Martina glanced to Slade again, with Gloria in his arms. “NO FUCKING WAY!” she yelled as her finger squeezed tight on the trigger. That’s when the man’s hand went into his jacket. The first bullet was already on its way before the hand came out. It and three others struck the man’s head in rapid succession. He stiffened, the arm came up and the gun dangled for an instant, then fell to the floor, followed closely by the man. Glancing around then as more people screamed, she saw Jillian, five feet to the man’s right, looking very much in shock, an empty smoking gun in her hands.
From where he was, Delaney couldn’t see what’d happened, but his ear told him where the shots had come from, and was relieved to see Martina standing there, looking very much relieved as well.
One quick look at this man, and Slade hurried Gloria up to the office and locked the door behind them. No doubt she was in need of some serious consoling. Casino security and the remaining U.S. Marshals moved in now and shooed what few people remained away from the area.
Once the Las Vegas Police came and the bodies were taken away, Delaney went back to the catwalk. Jillian and Martina were consoling each other when he arrived. “The police are going to want to talk to you two. There are detectives on the way.”
“We’re not in any trouble, are we?” Martina said, and came away from Jillian. She wanted Delaney to take her in, but he made no move to do that. Now she felt cold and alone, and folded her arms under her breasts as a meager substitute.
“I had the police sergeant put it down as justifiable homicide, in both shootings. No doubt they’ll see it that way. But they’ll have questions nonetheless.”
“Of course,” Martina said, knowing the routine well. “Who were they?”
“No identification on either of them.”
“Hit men?” Martina said. She knew from the incident in St. Louis that got Parker McLean hospitalized. Harry Dunbar had pointed out then, hit men seldom carried IDs.
“That was obvious.”
“The Koffees sent them?”
“I have no way of knowing that,” Delaney said. “One sure thing, they looked Sicilian.”
Mafia? Martina wondered. Somehow that didn’t fit with her image of the Koffees.
“Brannagan was lucky you two were around,” Delaney said, and then he pulled the both of them in for a brief hug.
“He owes Jillian big time,” Martina said. “She was on to both of them before any of us.”
“I see now I need a bigger gun,” Jillian said. “All this little bitch did was cause an itch.” She held the small semi-auto twenty-two up, the cylinder locked in the open position, empty of cartridges.
Moments later the detectives arrived. “You two stay put,” Delaney said, and went for the stairs.
No sooner did Delaney get to the detectives than Tom Taylor came strolling up and looked around at the ample amount of blood on the hardwood floor. Seeing him there, Martina wanted to hide, but instead she swallowed hard and held tight to the railing.
Some minutes later, Tom came to the catwalk holding his FBI badge out before him to those along the way, until he reached Martina and Jillian. He looked at Jillian and then up to Martina. “I suppose I should ask for a password …”
“Spider,” Martina said. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know me, Tom.”
“It was difficult, but yes. That fabulous body gave you away. Are you two okay?”
Martina glanced to Jillian. “We’re fine.”
“Well, just so you know, the FBI is taking over the investigation,” Taylor said. “This happened on our watch.”
“Good,” Martina said, feeling additional relief.
“Then you won’t mind answering a few questions?”
“Of course not.” Again she glanced to Jillian for objection, but saw nothing in her face to indicate otherwise.
“The way Marshal Delaney told it, he shot the one fellow, while you two brought down the other,” Taylor started. “Where were you at the time, Jillian?”
“Over there,” Jillian said, and went to the rail, “by that far blackjack table, beyond that blood pool there, five or six feet.”
“And you fired your gun from there?” Taylor asked. “I’ll need that pistol by the way, for ballistics.” He saw it still in her hand.
“Yeah, I fired from there. Whatever good it did.” She handed the little gun over. “That thing isn’t worth spit. It took Martina to bring the man down.”
“And you were down there, too?” He turned his attention to Martina.
“No. I was over there on the catwalk, directly across from him.”
Taylor took a long look at the distance. “That looks to be near a hundred feet, wouldn’t you say?”
“I suppose,” Martina said, wondering what he was getting at.
“Yet, you hit him in the head four consecutive times, according to Delaney.”
“Well … The man’s big head had an even bigger fedora on it,” Martina said. “It was an easy target. I aimed for the huge ear and just kept squeezing.”
“And Jillian shot him six times in the midsection,” Taylor said, with a slight smile forming. “The man must have thought he had the crabs for a spell.”
“I can’t think of a more deserving person to give them to,” Jillian said. “He was scary looking.”
“I know what you mean,” Taylor said. “I’ll need your pistol as well, Martina. I’ll try to get these back to you in a day or two, okay?”
“Okay.” Martina lifted her dress to the knee and came out with it. She noticed Tom’s longing eyes on her when she straightened. That told her only one thing. She would need to deal with him at some point down the road. Perhaps sooner rather than later, under the circumstances. Now she wondered what Delaney would think of that, if he should find out. That’s when her eyes went to Jillian. She squeezed off a quick wink that could not have been seen by Tom Taylor, since it was done with her left eye.
This caused Jillian to take on a charming smile and look up to Taylor. “Can we talk in private, Mister Taylor?”
“Well,” Taylor said, caught off guard, “is it important?”
“It is if you’re interested in a third man that was with those two,” she said, and took him by the arm to lead him away.
“Do you have a description?” Taylor followed along.
“I may be able to do better than that, if you can come back later tonight. I have pictures.”
“Photographs?”
“Yes.” She held up the camera around her neck. “I’ll have the film developed by then.”
“Do you have the other two on there as well?”
“I do.”
“Any chance of me getting those sooner …”
“Sure, if you have the time to wait. It would, however, go faster if I had your help. I have a makeshift darkroom set up in Martina and Gloria’s apartment.”
“Okay. Just let me have a final word with Marshal Delaney, then I’ll be right with you.”
“Great!” Jillian turned back to Martina. “I hope that’s what you wanted me to do?” She fingered her hair.
“It is,” Martina smiled. “But do you have pictures?”
“Of course,” Jillian said. “I wouldn’t lie to the FBI. I think the third man was the driver. He stood by the door for a while, before going back out.”
“Was that before Brannagan came in?”
“It was. About fifteen minutes before.”
“So they knew Slade’s routine,” Martina said.
“That’s the way it looks,” Jillian said. “So how long do you want me to keep this guy busy?”
“Can you stall him till after six?”
“God, Martina, that’s five hours. What the hell will I do with him for five hours?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something. It’s pretty close quarters in that bathroom,” Martina laughed.
“Yeah, hot, too. There’s no air in there with the door closed. To be comfortable I need to strip to my undies, while developing and printing. And no way can you let in light until finished. That would ruin everything.”
“Now that I would like to see,” Martina said. “You and Tom together, in skivvies.”
“You want pictures?”
“Could you?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
As soon as Tom and Jillian were out of sight, Martina grabbed her purse off the floor and made a run for the stairs. It looked like people were starting to work their way back into the casino. “Can we clean up this mess now?” she said to Delaney when she reached him below.
“I don’t see why not. But that’s our job.” He waved over two men from the floor. “Grab a couple of clean-up kits from the truck.”
“Thanks,” Martina said, and proceeded to step around the blood.
“Where are you going?” he called after her.
“Out,” she said, and kept moving.
Shaking his head, Delaney had little choice but to let her go. Now he wondered how many women could do what she’d done here today and be as cool as a cucumber afterward. The gal appeared as though she didn’t have a care in the world. Just his kind of chick … fire and ice.
Martina returned two hours later. On her knee was a new Beretta. No way was she waiting for Tom Taylor to get the other one back to her, which could take days … if she ever got it back. And that went for Jillian, too. In her purse she had a new twenty-five caliber semi-automatic, with a factory holster. This gun would pack twice the wallop of the twenty-two, she was told, but overall it wasn’t much larger.
She walked directly through the casino. Not seeing Gloria at her usual place she went up the steps to the office and used her key to let herself in. Moments later she was looking into the eyes of Slade Brannagan. “Where’s Gloria?”
“She’s in the apartment lying down for a while. That thing was quite a shock to her.”
“Oh!” Martina backed out of his office, and looked to the door, debating on whether to go to her. Tom and Jillian were in there somewhere, as well.
“Martina …”
“Don’t, Slade!” She held up a hand in anger. “I don’t want to hear it. Not until you tell me what that was all about. It was an attempted Mafia hit, wasn’t it? And I want to know why?”
“That guy you shot was Nello Savoca. He’s a top lieutenant with the Padalino family out of Jersey.”
“So … that’s supposed to tell me something?”
“Well, I would have told you but I thought I could handle it.” He leaned over the desk toward her. “They are trying to muscle in, Martina.”
“Muscle in? I don’t understand, Slade.”
“Take control of our casinos. I didn’t think it would go this far … when I turned their offer down.”
“They thought I would be easier to handle with you out of the way?” Martina said.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not,” Slade said. “With us both out of the way maybe their lawyers could figure a way to get control. Then they could put a Schmoe at the helm with some measure of legitimacy, while they controlled the counting room.”
“Now that’s all I need,” Martina said. “Someone else gunning for me. Aren’t the Koffees enough?” Tears of anger came to her eyes. “What can we do?”
