The Most Dangerous Dame

Right on schedule, a trio of black-suited security bulls waltzed up, looking about as cheerful as undertakers. The lead bull was a bulky, bald lug with a face that was more scowl than anything else. He jerked his oversized chin our direction.

“What the hell is going on here?”

I whipped out a badge from my inside pocket real official-like. It was a loaner from Detective Flask, but they didn’t need to know that. “Detective Tribble. My partner is Officer Grizzle. Vitto here has been a very bad boy, and we’re here to sort him out. Didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

The bull scanned the badge with his holoband. When it cleared he frowned even further, which didn’t seem possible. “This is private property, Dick. We have an understanding with you flatties. You’re supposed to alert us if you have business with any of our patrons. Getting gashouse in full view of paying customers is bad for business, see?”

I tucked the badge away with a brisk nod. “My apologies again. Like I said, special circumstances. This punk has a history of sporadic outbursts of sudden violence, which is also bad for business if you catch my drift. Now I know you got a few rooms in the back where you work over rubes that try to grift the system and whatnot. Why don’t we take our business there so we can work this out? It’s mighty important we tighten the screws on this sap right away. Lives in the balance and all.”

The bull only hesitated for a second, taking a look around at the crowded casino before reluctantly nodding. “All right, come on.” He and his partners escorted us through the nearby private doors into a brightly lit hallway. We passed by the highly secure accounting sector, the surveillance and security compound where they spied out the cons and rigged the games before turning the corner to a darker hallway where a few stark rooms were located.

It’s always been the tradition of casinos to handle their own problems. When a scammer is nabbed running some kind of grift on the tables, they’d rather take him to the back and personally work him over before they hand him over to the brass. Makes the con think twice about coming back, and the word spreads that buncoing the system doesn’t pay, unless you look to score in bruises and broken bones.

The bull graciously opened the door for us. “Finish your work and scatter, Dick. Next time follow protocol. Bandini’s gonna hear about this.”

“Give him the regards of Detective Flask in Homicide. He’s my commanding officer, and can explain everything.”

The door slammed in my face. Casino bulls take their gig pretty serious.

I folded my arms as Benny dumped Vitto in the metal chair that centered the concrete-walled room. Vitto had a bit of steel in him, though. Even with his own blood decorating his shirt collar, he didn’t lose his cool. He studied Benny closely, then gave me the once-over. His eyes narrowed.

“You boys ain’t coppers.”

“Real swift, Einstein. So I guess you’ve figured your goose is neck-deep in the stew right about now. Now I know you’re pretty hip on how to manipulate the law and protect your keister, but like you said — we’re not the brass.”

I gave a nod to Benny, who shrugged his jacket off and hung it on a nearby wall hook. Rolling up his sleeves, he sidled over so that he stood directly behind Vitto. Classic tactic employed by interrogation room coppers. Benny was now an unseen threat lurking just outside of Vitto’s line of sight. There was no way to know when a sudden blow would drop, which was the perfect way to rattle a perp.

Vitto squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. “Look, I don’t know who you mooks are, but you’re messing with the wrong guy. I know people.”

Right on schedule, Ben the Bear walloped Vitto upside the head. It was an open-handed blow struck not all that hard but right across the ear, meant to cause the head to ring and distort one’s sense of balance. Vitto squawked and nearly fell out his chair.

“What the hell?” He shook his head dizzily. “You bastards can’t do this to me. Do you know who the hell I am?”

“You’re a lowlife shylock with eyes on raising your star by dealing in the dope trade.” I folded my arms with a smirk. “Just got a batch of Ladykillers on the docks last night, am I right?”

His face turned expressionless. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“Guess I don’t have to worry about anything, then. Seeing as I’m the one who blew that stash up.” I gave him my best smug grin.

Vitto’s head snapped up. “That was you? You got some balls, fessing up to a hit like that. I got droppers ready to put you on ice. Pipe that? You think you can do this to me? Who the hell do you think you are?”

Another smack from Benny, this time from the opposite side. While Vitto groaned and tried to reacquire his equilibrium, I casually pulled out a gasper and lit it. “The name’s Mick Trubble. You might have heard of me.”

His face paled. “The Troubleshooter. You’re the gumshoe that took Pike down.”