“I’ll see you when I get back, my friend.”
And just like that Matt let me end the conversation. There had been no final goodbye; no wish for luck, there had been only the silence that comes when someone ends a call. Had I pushed him too far this time? Could this be the straw that broke the camel’s back? No, I was reading too much into his momentary depression. Matt always got right back up and was stronger than ever. Once I win the tournament, I’ll go home and we’ll spend the next two months plotting our next mark and having fun, at least once he got his revenge.
Besides Matt was worrying about problems that would never come to pass. I would be very surprised if Dempsey actually showed up at the tournament; it would be some trusted lackey running the game. Not that the possibility of his presence hadn’t crossed my mind, but after thinking it through, I had decided there was no way he was going to be present. He must have more important things to do than to attend a little poker tournament. The main reason I doubted that he would show was because, while I doubted the reputed size of his organization, I didn’t doubt its actual existence. And no matter how large or small it might be, things like that tended to require a lot of micromanagement, or so I have been told.
For some reason this thought reminded me of the halfhearted promise I had given Matt. I knew he had wanted more, but there was no way I would handicap myself like that, not when I wasn’t entirely certain what I was walking into. There were going to be too many goons, some obviously armed others not so obviously, in that warehouse with me. And I was not going to enter a building like that unless I could defend myself. It just wasn’t going to happen. Now I was sure that was why he was trying to get the promise, but the real reason I flat out refused to make that promise was, I was determined to win the game, no matter what. If I needed to change a card here or there in order to do so, then I wasn’t going to hesitate.
Forcing the conversation out of my mind I went back to watching my video feed. But after another minute or two I decided that there was nothing to be gained by surveillance, not live anyway. Double checking that there was enough ample memory left for the night, I placed the camera back down and let my mind wander. It seemed clear that either any work that needed to be done had already been done or there had been an entrance I missed. While I was at the warehouse I had toyed with the thought of an underground entrance, but had quickly dismissed the idea as being fanciful.
Now I wished I had checked anyway. And at this point, worrying was not going to do me any good, so it was best to just forget about what was done and think about what was coming. I kept trying to tell myself that the past wouldn’t kill me, but every time I did, a little voice in my head would mutter that the mistakes of the past certainly could. I had trouble arguing with this logic, but there was nothing to be gained by dwelling on it. Fighting off exhaustion, I began to rub my face with both hands. I could do a quick survey of the tape when I woke up. There was sure to be something to watch in the morning, and hopefully, it would be to be more interesting than anything I had seen so far.
Reaching for hotel phone, I decided I needed something to eat and maybe something to drink, but nothing too strong. Matt was right about one thing, I had to keep my wits about me. Once I placed my order I stretched out on the bed and waited for the night to be over.
Chapter 2
I’ll never again let Matt say I am not cautious enough, I thought, as I sat in a parking garage about three blocks from the warehouse. I had hoped the surveillance from this morning would have caught something, anything. But so far I was coming up empty, yet again. When I eventually woke up I scanned the footage and also made sure to check on anything I might have missed while I was talking with Matt. But what I had thought might be something had proven to be just a trick of the light.
So after three days of useless surveillance, I saw the first sign of activity when half a dozen men exited the warehouse. The six individuals just walked out as if they were on their way to work. And none of them were the men who had been guarding the perimeter three days ago. What is going on here? Is the warehouse a modified barrack for Dempsey’s men? Shaking my head, I answered my own questions. But then, my answers may have had held a certain lack of conviction. No, Dempsey would never place his piggy banks inside a barrack where his foot soldiers could have easy access. On the other hand, if this was a barrack that would partially explain why I hadn’t been allowed to get too close to it.