Текст книги "The Collectors"
Автор книги: David Baldacci
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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 27 страниц)
Chapter 16
It was raining and chilly in Newark when the plane touched down. Annabelle now sported brown hair, cherry–red lipstick, sleek eyeglasses, funky clothes and blocky–heeled shoes. Her three companions were all dressed in two–piece suits with no ties. They didn’t leave the airport together. They drove south and rendezvoused at a rental unit in Atlantic City.
Being back in the town after so many years, Annabelle could feel her tension level rising. The last time, she had come far too close to dying. But being tense could easily get her killed this time around. She would have to trust her nerves to weather what was coming. She had prepared nearly twenty years of her life for this moment. She did not intend to waste it.
Over the last week she’d wired the funds from the altered checks out of the corporate accounts. Those sums plus the stash from the ATM scam had been put into an overseas account that did not abide by a single U.S. banking regulation. With $3 million in seed money, the men were anxious to hear Annabelle’s plan for the long con.
And yet she was clearly not ready to tell them. She spent much of the first day walking the town, scoping the casinos and in discussions with certain nameless people. The men spent the downtime playing cards and shooting the breeze. Leo and Freddy regaled young Tony with stories of old scams embellished and polished to the degree that only distant memories could inspire.
She finally called them all together.
“My plan is to turn our three million into a lot more, in a relatively short period of time,” she informed them.
“I just love your style, Annabelle,” Leo said.
“Specifically, I plan to turn our three million into at least thirty–three million. I walk away with thirteen point five, and you split the rest three ways. That’s six and a half per. Anybody have a problem with that?”
The men sat there stunned for a full minute. Leo finally answered for them. “Yeah, boy, that just sucks.”
She held up a warning hand. “If the scam doesn’t work, we could lose some of the seed, but not all. Everybody all right with rolling that dice?” Each of them nodded. “The amount of money we’re talking will necessitate taking certain risks on the back end.”
Leo said, “Translation, whoever we’re ripping off will never stop looking for us.” He lit a cigarette. “And now I think it’s time you told us who it is.”
Annabelle sat back and slid her hands in her pockets. She never took her gaze off Leo’s face, and he stared back in turn. Finally, he said nervously, “Is it really that bad?”
“We’re hitting Jerry Bagger and the Pompeii Casino,” she announced.
“Holy shit!” Leo yelled, his cigarette falling out of his mouth. It landed on his leg and burned a small hole in his pants. He angrily swiped at the burn mark and pointed a shaky finger at her. “I knew it! I knew you were gonna pull this crap.”
Tony looked at each of them. “Who’s Jerry Bagger?”
Leo said, “The meanest son of a bitch you hope you never cross paths with, sonny boy, that’s who.”
Annabelle joked, “Come on, Leo, it’s my job to get him juiced about the scam. Keep that up, he’ll want to take on Jerry all by himself.”
“I’m not taking on Jerry effing Bagger for three million, thirty–three million or three hundred and thirty–three million because I won’t live to enjoy it anyway.”
“But you came here with us. And like you said, you knew I was going for him. You knew it, Leo.” She stood, came around the table and draped a long arm around his shoulders. “And if the truth be known, you’ve been waiting for a shot to take that weasel down for the last twenty years. Admit it.”
Leo suddenly looked embarrassed, lit another Winston and shakily blew smoke to the ceiling. “Anybody who’s done business with that bastard wants to kill him. So what?”
“I don’t want to kill him, Leo. I just want to steal so much money from Jerry that it’ll hurt him where it matters the most. You could wipe out his whole family, and it wouldn’t bother the guy nearly as much as knowing somebody got the money he’s been piling up from the poor schmucks that trip through his casino every minute of every day.”
“Sounds cool,” Tony chimed, while Freddy still looked uncertain.
Leo stared in fury at the young man. “Cool? You think it’s cool? Let me tell you something, you little know–nothing punk. You mess up in front of Jerry Bagger like you did at that bank, there won’t be enough left of you to send in an envelope to your mama for burial.” Leo turned and pointed a finger at Annabelle. “Let me make something real clear right now. I am not taking on Jerry Bagger. But I am really not taking on Jerry Bagger with this screw–up along.”
“Hey, I made one mistake. You never made a mistake?” Tony protested.
Leo didn’t answer. He and Annabelle were engaged in a lengthy stare–down.
She said quietly, “Tony’s role is limited to what he does best. He has no face time with Jerry.” She glanced at Freddy. “And Freddy’s backroom all the way. He just has to make some good–looking paper. The success of the scam depends on you. And me. So unless you think we’re not good enough, I don’t see a valid objection.”
“They know us, Annabelle. We’ve been here before.”
She walked around the table and opened a manila folder that sat on the table in front of her chair. She held up two glossies of a man and a woman.
“Who’s that?” Freddy asked, puzzled.
Leo answered grudgingly as he gazed at the pictures. “Me and Annabelle, from a long time ago. In At–lan–tic Ci–ty,” he spat out.
“Where’d you get the photos?” Tony asked.
Annabelle explained, “Every casino keeps a face bank, what they call the black book, of people who’ve tried to scam them, and they share that intelligence with the other casinos. You’ve never tried to rip a casino, Tony, and neither has Freddy, which is one reason I looked you two up. I still have a few contacts in this town; that’s where I got the prints. They never actually caught us and photographed us. These were made from composites based on descriptions of us. If they had real photos, I’m not sure I’d be here.”
“But you two don’t look anything like that anymore,” Tony said. “Some intelligence,” he added with a sneer.
Annabelle pulled two more glossies out of the folder. These looked more like the real Leo and Annabelle. “Like the police do with missing children, the casinos hire experts to digitally alter the photos to take into account normal aging. They feed that into their black book and also into their electronic surveillance system that has face recognition software. That’s why we’ll look nothing like this when we make our run at Jerry.”
“I’m not making a run at Jerry,” Leo snarled.
“Come on, Leo, it’ll be fun,” Tony said.
“Don’t piss me off, kid,” Leo snapped. “Like I need an excuse to hate you!”
“Let’s take a walk, Leo,” Annabelle said. She held a hand up when Tony and Freddy stood to follow them. “Stay put. We’ll be back,” she said.
Outside, the sun was coming out from behind a patch of dark clouds. Annabelle pulled a hood over her head and slid on sunglasses. Leo pulled a ball cap low over his head and donned shades as well.
They walked along the Boardwalk, which ran between the casinos on the main strip and the wide beach, passing couples on benches staring at the ocean.
“They’ve fixed up the place since the last time we were here,” Annabelle said. The casinos had stomped into town in the late seventies, plopping down billion–dollar gambling palaces in the middle of the seaside resort’s stark decay. For years afterward a person would not want to venture far away from the casinos because the surrounding city was not the safest place. The powers–that–be had long promised a general cleanup of the area. And with the casinos throwing off lots of money and jobs, it looked like that promise was finally being fulfilled. They stopped and watched a large crane lifting steel beams up on top of a structure that a sign announced would soon be luxury condos. Everywhere they looked new construction and rehab of existing places was going on.
Leo veered toward the beach. He stopped to take off his shoes and socks while Annabelle slid off her flats and rolled up her pants. They walked along the sand, drawing close to the water. Finally, Leo stopped, bent down, grabbed a seashell and tossed it at an incoming wave.
“You ready to talk about it?” she asked, eyeing him closely.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what? Running a con? That’s what I’ve been doing all my life. You should know that better than anyone, Leo.”
“No, I mean, why’d you come and get me, Freddy, the kid? You could’ve had your pick of just about anyone for this action.”
“I didn’t want just anyone. We go way back, Leo. And I thought you’d want to take another run at Jerry. Was I wrong?”
Leo threw another seashell into the water and watched it disappear. “Story of my life, Annabelle. I throw seashells at the waves, and they just keep coming.”
“Don’t get all philosophical on me.”
He gave her a sideways glance. “Is this because of your old man?”
“And I don’t need you playing my shrink either.” She moved slightly away from him, crossed her arms over her chest and looked out to sea where at the edge of the horizon a ship slowly made its way somewhere.
“With thirteen million dollars I could buy a boat big enough to take across the ocean, couldn’t I?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Don’t know. I guess. I’ve never had a reason to price one.” He looked down at his bare feet, crinkled the sand between his toes. “Annabelle, you were always smart about your money, a lot smarter than me. After all the cons you’ve pulled, I know you don’t need the cash.”
“Who ever has enough money?” she said, still watching the boat drift by.
He picked up another shell and hurled it. “You really want to do this, don’t you?”
“Part of me doesn’t. The part of me I listen to knows I have to.”
“The kid says nothing?”
“The kid says nothing.”
“If this goes bad, I don’t even want to think about what’ll happen to us.”
“Then don’t let it go bad.”
“Do you have a single nerve in your body?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.” She picked up a shell and chucked it into the face of a crashing wall of water, then let the ocean race across her feet and ankles. “Are we good?”
He slowly nodded. “Yeah, we’re good.”
“No more going ballistic on me?”
He cracked a smile. “That I can promise to no woman.”
As they walked back to the hotel, he said, “I haven’t heard anything about your mom in a long time. How’s Tammy doing?”
“Not great.”
“Is your old man even alive?”
“I wouldn’t be the one to know that, would I?” Annabelle answered.
Chapter 17
It took a full week to make the preparations. As part of that work Annabelle gave a list of the documents and IDs she needed to Freddy. When he came to the end of the sheet, he did a double take.
“Four U.S. passports?”
Tony looked up from his computer. “Passports? What for?”
Leo stared at him contemptuously. “What? You think you cross nutcase Jerry Bagger and stay in the country? Give me a break. Yours truly is going to Mongolia and becoming a monk for a few years. I’d rather wear a robe and ride a yak around than let Bagger cut little pieces of my body off while he’s screaming about wanting his dough back.” He returned to working on his disguise.
Annabelle said, “We need the passports to get out of the country for a while until things cool down.”
“Out of the country?” Tony exclaimed, half rising out of his chair.
“Jerry’s not infallible, but there’s no sense in being stupid. You can see the world, Tony. Learn Italian,” she advised.
“What about my parents?” Tony said.
“Send ‘em postcards,” Leo growled over his shoulder as he struggled to fit a toupee to his head. “Talk about your freaking amateur hour.”
“U.S. passports are difficult to make, Annabelle,” Freddy said. “They go for ten grand each on the street.”
Annabelle gave him a hard stare. “Well, you’re being paid six point five million to do these, Freddy.”
The man swallowed nervously. “I see your point. You’ll have them.” Freddy went off with the list.
“I’ve never even been out of the country,” Tony said.
“Best time to go is when you’re young,” Annabelle said, sitting down across from him at the table.
“Have you ever been out of the country?” he asked her.
Leo piped in. “Are you kidding? You think the States are the only place to run a con? Ha!”
“I’ve been around,” Annabelle admitted.
Tony looked at her nervously. “Well, maybe we could travel together. You could show me around. You and Leo,” he added quickly. “And I bet Freddy would want to come too.”
Annabelle was already shaking her head. “We split up. Four apart is much harder to catch than four together.”
“Right, okay, sure,” Tony said.
“You’ll have plenty of money to live on,” she added.
Tony brightened. “A villa somewhere in Europe, with my own staff.”
“Don’t start throwing the cash around. That’s a red flag. Start small and keep your head down. I’ll get you out of the country, and then you take it from there.” She sat forward. “And now here’s exactly what I need from you.” Annabelle explained Tony’s task in great detail. “Can you do it?”
“No problem,” he said immediately. She eyed him questioningly. “Look, I dropped out of MIT after two years because I was bored!”
“I know. That was the other reason I picked you.”
Tony looked down at his laptop and started typing. “I’ve actually done it before and fooled the place with the best security in the world.”
“Who’s that, the Pentagon?” Leo asked.
“No. Wal–Mart.”
Leo shot him a glance. “You’re kidding me? Wal–Mart?”
“Hey, Wal–Mart doesn’t mess around.”
“How quickly can you do it?” Annabelle asked.
“Give me a couple days.”
“No more than two. I want to test it.”
“I’ve got no problem with that,” he said confidently.
Leo rolled his eyes, said a silent prayer, made the sign of the cross and went back to his toupee.
• • •
While Freddy and Tony were working on their assignments, Leo and Annabelle donned disguises and headed to the Pompeii Casino. The largest casino on the Boardwalk and one of the newest, having risen from the ruins of an older gambling den, the Pompeii, true to its name, also sported a working volcano that “erupted” twice a day, at noon and six in the evening. What came out of the volcano wasn’t lava, but certificates that one could use to get drinks and food. Since casinos practically gave food and alcohol away to keep people gambling, it was not much of a sacrifice on Bagger’s part. However, people loved thinking they were getting something for nothing. Thus, the twice–daily eruptions were a surefire draw, the crowds lining up early and then proceeding to dump far more money in the casino than they would ever get back in food and liquor from the belches of the fake volcano.
“Leave it to Bagger to get morons to line up for that crap and then drop their paychecks in his casinos while they’re getting fat and drunk,” Leo snarled.
“Jerry collects chumps; that’s the lifeblood of the casino business.”
“I remember when the first casino opened here in ‘78,” Leo said.
Annabelle nodded. “Resorts International, bigger than any Vegas casino at the time except the MGM. Paddy ran some crews here for a while at the beginning.”
“Well, your old man never should have come back with you and me!” Leo lit a cigarette and pointed down the line of casinos. “I started out here. The casino crews back then were mostly locals. You had nurses, garbage truck drivers and gas jockeys all of a sudden dealing cards and running craps and roulette tables. They were so bad you could run any scam you wanted. Hell, you didn’t even have to cheat. You could make money just off their mistakes. That lasted about four years. I sent both my kids through college on the money I made back then.”
She looked at him. “You never talked to me about your family before.”
“Yeah, like you’re a real blabbermouth when it comes to that stuff.”
“You knew my parents. What could I add to that?”
“I had kids early. They’re grown and gone and so’s my old lady.”
“Did she know what you did for a living?”
“Hard to hide it after a while. She liked the money, just not the way I earned it. We never told the kids. I wasn’t going to let them get near the business.”
“Smart man.”
“Yeah, they still ditched me.”
“Don’t look back, Leo, too many regrets start popping out.”
He shrugged and then grinned. “We had a helluva roulette thing going here, didn’t we? Any con can past–post craps and blackjack, but only real pros can do it long–term at roulette. It’s as close as you can get to a long con at a casino table.” He looked at her admiringly. “You were the best claimer I’d ever seen, Annabelle. You could bring the heat or the cool. The pit bosses melted every damn time. And you saw the steam coming before any of us,” he added, referring to suspicious casino employees.
“And you were the best mechanic I ever worked with, Leo. Even when some rook cut into your move, you still nailed it before the dealer turned back around.”
“Yeah, I was good, but the fact is you were just as good a mechanic as me. I think sometimes your old man kept me on because you said to.”
“You give me way too much credit. Paddy Conroy only did what Paddy Conroy wanted to do. And what he ultimately did was screw us both.”
“Yeah, and leave us for Bagger to feed on. And if you hadn’t been cat–quick about it and made him miss by a couple inches?” He looked out toward the ocean. “Maybe we’d be out there somewhere.”
She plucked the cigarette out of his mouth. “And now that we’re done patting each other on the back down memory lane, let’s get to work.”
They started toward the casino entrance and then abruptly stopped. “Let the cattle drive get by,” Leo warned.
Each casino had a bus drive where the charters would start lining up at eleven o’clock in the morning. They’d disgorge their usually elderly passengers who’d spend all day in the casino running through their Social Security money and eating junk food. Then they’d hop back on the bus and head home with little to live on for the rest of the month, but certain that they would be back when their next government check rolled in.
Leo and Annabelle watched the senior citizen brigades charge into the Pompeii in time for the first eruption of the day and then wandered in after them. They spent several hours walking the place and even played a few games of chance along the way. Leo had a nice ride at craps, while Annabelle stuck to blackjack, winning more than she lost.
They hooked up a little later and had a drink at one of the bars. As Leo watched a curvy thong–wearing waitress carry a load of drinks to a hot craps table three deep with bettors looking to ride some action to riches, Annabelle said in a low voice, “Well?”
He munched on some pecans and sipped his Jack and Coke. “Blackjack table number five. Looks like we got a little monkey business coming out of the shoe,” he said, referring to the device that held the packs of cards.
“Dealer in on it?”
“Oh, yeah. How about you?”
Annabelle took a swallow of her wine before answering. “Roulette table next to the spinning car, we got a four–person past–posting team dragging and doing an okay job of it.”
“I thought they taught the dealers to really case their bets now. And how about all the sophisticated eyes–in–the–sky and microcameras they got these days?”
“You know how crazy the roulette table is, that’s why it’s past–posting Mecca. And if you’re good, anything’s possible despite all the high–tech stuff.”
He touched his drink against hers. “Don’t we know that?”
“How’s security look?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary. I’m assuming the vault’s under a thousand tons of concrete surrounded by a million guys armed with machine guns.”
“Good thing we’re not going that route,” she replied dryly.
“Yeah, you don’t want to mess up your manicure.” He put his drink down. “How old would Jerry be now?”
“Sixty–six,” she answered promptly.
“I bet he hasn’t mellowed with age,” Leo said grumpily.
“He hasn’t.”
She sounded so sure, he looked at her suspiciously.
“You check out the mark, Leo, remember? Con Man 101.”
“Damn, there’s the asshole himself,” Leo hissed, and immediately turned away.
As Annabelle watched, six men, all of them young, big and burly, walked by. They were surrounding another man, shorter but very fit, with broad shoulders and thick white hair. He was dressed in an expensive blue suit with a yellow tie. Jerry Bagger’s face was heavily tanned. Down one cheek ran a scar, and it looked like the man’s nose had been broken at least a couple times. Underneath his thick white eyebrows was a pair of canny eyes. His gaze darted across his casino, seemingly absorbing all sorts of interesting data from his empire of slots, cards and crushed hopes.
As soon as they passed by, Leo turned back around and struggled to regain his breath. A ticked–off Annabelle said, “Your hyperventilating when the guy is all the way across the casino didn’t really figure into my plan, Leo.”
He held up a hand. “Not to worry, I’m over it.” He drew one last deep breath.
“We’ve never even met the guy face–to–face. It was his goons who tried to kill us back then. It’s not like he’s going to recognize you.”
“I know, I know.” He finished his drink. “What now?”
“When it’s time to go, we go. Until then, we work our script and practice our cues and look for any edge we can get, because Jerry’s so damn unpredictable that even if we’re perfect, it may not be enough.”
“You know, I forgot what a cheerleader you are.”
“Nothing wrong with stating the obvious. If he throws us a curve, we have to be ready to hit it out, or else.”
“Yeah, we know all about or else, don’t we?”
He and Annabelle both stared silently across the casino at Jerry Bagger and his army as they exited the casino, climbed into a mini–motorcade and headed off, perhaps to break somebody’s kneecaps for cheating the casino king out of thirty bucks, much less 30 million.
