"I'm told he's always dreamed of it. That he's got a system and as soon as he could get the dough together he was going to go out and bust Vegas."

"And where you think he got the dough?"

"From you," I said, "or Gino Fish, or both."

"You think we give it to him?" Ventura asked.

"No, I think he took it."

Shirley stood up as if there was a spring in her chair.

"That is absolutely not so," she said. She had her fists resting on her hips.

"Anthony made a very good salary and he was as honest as the day is long."

"That honest?" I said.

"And besides, if he was going anywhere because he had a dream he'd take me with him. He wouldn't go anywhere without me unless he was forced to."

"So you think he's been kidnapped and taken to Vegas?" I said.

"I don't know where he is. You said he was in Las Vegas, mister smart-ass detective."

She almost stamped her foot. It was as if she'd learned how to be mad by watching old Doris Day movies.

Ventura said, "Shut up, Shirley. What makes you think he lifted money from me or Gino?"

"He's got a gambling problem. He collected money for you. Now he's gone and you're looking for him, but you don't want people to know and Gino seems to be trying to find out what I find out."

I shrugged and spread my hands.

"He doesn't have a gambling problem," Shirley said. She was sitting again" her knees tight together, her fists clamped together in her lap. Her top teeth were on her lower lip again.

"Shirley, I tole you shut up," Ventura said.

"This is business, you unnerstan? I'm trying to think about business here."

Shirley looked down at her folded hands. She spoke very softly, as if to herself.

"He wouldn't go without me."

Ventura stared at me hard for a while. I waited.

"Gino's been trying to find out what you're doing?"

"Marty Anaheim," I said.

"Same thing," Ventura said.

"They put a tail on me as soon as I started looking for Anthony.

They knew about me the day I started."

Ventura's eyes were on me but they weren't seeing me. The tip of his tongue rested for a moment on his lower lip. He sat that way for a while.

Finally he said, "I do some business with Gino."

"Cash," I said.

"Yeah, a course." Ventura looked at me as if I questioned the law of gravity.

"And Anthony bagged the money back and forth."

"Some," Ventura said.

"Sometimes, for good faith, because he was, you know, family, he'd do some pick-up for Gino."

I waited.

"You sure about this Las Vegas shit?"

"I talked to some people. I'm sure he gambles bad and loses worse. I'm told he had a plan for winning big in Vegas."

"How come I don't know anything about it?" Shirley said. She was still looking at her fists in her lap. Her voice was still very small.

"If he was like that I'd know. We were closer than anything."

Ventura ignored her.

"You don't say nothing about this. Especially you don't say nothing to Gino or Marty Anaheim."

"Normally," I said, "I stay in business by being a blabbermouth, but since you asked so nice…"

"I don't want no talk about this anywhere," Ventura said.

"That your son-in-law stole your partner's money?"

"You don't know what he did," Ventura said.

"All you know is he's missing and you better find him."

"He wouldn't steal anything," Shirley murmured.

"So we're off to Vegas," I said.

"Yeah, and right now. And don't stay in no fucking Caesars Palace, you unnerstan?"

"Probably just sleep in the airport," I said.

CHAPTER 14

I always suspected that Las Vegas Airport was bigger than Las Vegas, but I'd never seen any hard stats on it. Hawk and I were carrying one shoulder bag each for our clothing and two suitcases each for Susan's clothing. Slot machines lined the concourse.

"You planning on changing clothes every hour?" Hawk said.

"You never know when I may meet Wayne Newton," Susan said.

"I have to be ready."

"Long as you don't have to carry it," Hawk said.

"Jewish American princesses do not carry luggage," Susan said.

"That's why there are goys."

"I wonder if we could pick up a couple of little red caps," I said.

Hawk shook his head.

"Don't issue them to white guys," he said.

At the limousine pickup area there was only one other party, a man and a woman. Susan studied them for a moment and then made a covert head gesture to Hawk and me.

"Wayne?" Hawk said.

"Shh. No. That's Robert Goulet," Susan whispered.

Hawk put down the suitcases.

"You need to change?" he said.

"No," Susan said.

"What I'm wearing is fine for Robert Goulet."

A slender light-skinned black man in a white suit came into the waiting area. He had short reddish hair. Inside the door, he took off his aviator sunglasses while his eyes adjusted.

Hawk said, "Lester."

"Hawk, my man," Lester said.

Hawk introduced us. We stayed with the air-conditioning while Lester hustled the luggage out to the car.

"Lester runs a specialty limo service," Hawk said.

"Hotels bring in some high rollers. Lester picks them up, drives them around, gets them dinner reservations, girls, or boys, or both, if they want. Makes sure they go to the casino that sponsored their trip."

"And he owes you a favor," I said.

Hawk shrugged.

"He got some time free," Hawk said.

"For pro bono work."

Lester came back in.

"Okay, folks, car's waiting."

We left Robert Goulet and his companion, and went through the brief band of desert heat outside the terminal and into an airconditioned white Lincoln.

"You folks want a little tour of Vegas on the way in?" Lester said.

"Lester," Hawk said.

"We ain't tourists."

"Sure. There's booze in the bar, you want."

"How do you know Hawk, Lester?" Susan said.

I smiled. I knew she wasn't making conversation. Susan actually wanted to know.

"Knew Hawk in Cuba," Lester said.

Susan looked at Hawk.

"Cuba?" she said.

Hawk shrugged. Behind us a maroon Buick Regal pulled away from a pickup zone and fell in behind us.

"What were you doing in Cuba, Lester?"

"Little of this, little of that," Lester said.

"Oh."

Susan turned to look at Hawk. The maroon Buick passed us on an open stretch. Usually when that happens the car keeps going and leaves you behind. The Regal pulled in two cars ahead of us and stayed there.

"And you?"

"Same thing," Hawk said.

We left the airport and headed north on Paradise Road. The Buick pulled off into the drive up at the Best Western. When we passed, it came out of the Best Western and fell in three cars behind us. There was no doubt that the Regal was following us.

Nothing is so conspicuous as the attempt to be inconspicuous.

The Regal stayed where it was the rest of the way. We drove down Las Vegas Boulevard, passing people in pink shorts and plastic hats walking past pirate coves and fake volcanos. A flaunting show of waterfalls and fountains danced in the middle of the desert as if they had not only defeated nature but wished to rub it in.