Chapter 15
Crash
What the f*ck was I doing. I had no time for this sort of shit.
You're trying to build a legacy Crash. That's it. No time for anything else right now. Nothing.
I was sat in my office at the casino, mulling things over. I needed to keep things straight. I needed to avoid any sort of distraction at all. Nothing could deviate me from my path. Nothing would get in my way.
The problem was, every time I ran into that girl something happened. And for some strange reason I seemed to come across her every five f*cking minutes.
Why the f*ck did she push me away like that? I mean, what, does she think she's too good for me or something? She's the one who kissed me first the other week. What was her problem!
And why the f*ck was it bothering me?! Seriously, she was just another girl. I'd had many.
The night was yet young, for me at least. The casino was open constantly, and if anything went wrong it would almost invariably be late night on Friday and Saturday.
I was a control freak. I hated not being around to sort out any mess if something happened, so invariably ended up staying late over the busiest two nights of the week. Right now it wasn't what I needed. I'd had a long f*ckingday.
That weasly little shit Walter Lithgow had just dashed my dream; discarded me as if I was nothing. Well, he'd soon find out what I was capable of. He'd soon change his mind.
I downed a glass of whiskey and snatched a cigar from my desk drawer.
Cohiba. Beautiful.
I'd always loved the smell when my father lit up when I was a kid. Now every time I smoked one I'd think of him.
A cloud of smoke soon began to gather in my office as my mind continued to rush like a raging river. I was restless, eager to hear from Jones, eager to know what skeletons Lithgow was hiding in his closet.
If he had anything, Jones would find it. And men like Lithgow always had things they wanted to hide. That was Jones' speciality - uncovering secrets - although he had others I'd call upon from time to time. He'd spent 20 yearsas a detective, so he'd developed a broad range of skills, and contacts, during that time.
Speed was critical. I needed information, and I needed it now. As soon as they moved forward with that f*cking housing development my chance would be gone.
I wasn't going to let that happen. If Jones came up short, there were other methods I could call upon. There was nothing I wouldn't do.
My phone buzzed on my desk and I grabbed it quickly.
Not Jones. F*ck.
“What's up Jude?” Please don't be a problem at the bar. That was the last thing I wanted to deal with right now.
“Nothing major. Kyle's just turned up with Alice. He seems pretty wasted. I thought you might wanna know.”
Jude, ever the most loyal brother. He was the youngest, and always the most eager to please. He was just 20, and father had only recently allowed him to run the bar before he died. I wasn't sure he was ready, but he'd been doing a decent job so far.
“Thanks Jude. That's not a problem any more.”
“Oh, OK Crash. I'll keep an eye on them anyway.”
“Thanks Jude, and good job.”
I hung up the phone and put the cigar back to my mouth. I'll let Kyle have tonight. He can get as drunk as he likes. But when he's working with me, that won't happen.
My life wasn't a party like his had been recently. Ever since dad had died he'd been getting drunk more and more often. College parties, late night sessions at the bar. God knows what else he got up to.
I needed to trust him if he was to help me build our family's legacy. So from now, work would need to come first for him.
I continued to fill the room with the scent of my cigar as I sat at my desk, my eyes scanning over the many cameras pointed to various problem points in the casino. The number of people who thought they could get away with cheating or stealing down there astounded me. It was like they thought we were blind.
No, there were eyes on every corner of this place.
That's how those two guys had been caught out a while back. Brian and Steve, those were there names. They were in my pocket now. I wasn't sure how I'd use them, but the more people who owed me favors, the better.
I'd learnt that from my father.
“You never know who might come in handy one day Crash. Someone they know. A skill they have. The work they do. Everyone can offer you something, so build as many favors as you can. It helps give you options.”
They were wise words that I'd taken to heart. Since then I'd often chosen to let people go loose if ever they wronged me. Instead of breaking their leg of shattering their kneecap, you could turn these people into a long term investment. Brian and Steve were just the latest two to be added to that list.
My phone buzzed loudly again on the table.
Jones. Yes!
I picked it up in a flash, my words racing from my mouth.
“Speak to me Jones, what do you have?”
“I have a lead, something that has just come to me.”
“A lead? About Walter Lithgow?”
“Sort of. This lead is about your father.”
The hairs on my arms stood on end.
“My father? About his murder?”
“Yes.”
“Well tell me! What do you have?!”
This was exactly what I'd been waiting for. Something, anything about my father's death. I wanted to know who did it. I wanted to know what happened. I wanted to get revenge.
“Why don't you come to my office. It's better we talk face to face. You never know who might be listening down a phone line.”
Typical Jones. Always on edge, always on guard.
“OK. I'll be there in 10 minutes.”
I slammed the phone down and paced straight out of my office. I could see Graham, my floor manager, chatting to one of the high rollers as they came in through the main entrance.
I paced quickly down the steps and greeted the man with a firm handshake.
“Mr Yashido, wonderful to see you again in our humble casino.”
The more you kissed their ass, the more they'd keep coming back and paying you off.
“Thank you Mr Logan. I was sorry to hear about the death of your father. A terrible tragedy.”
Yeah, one that will shortly be corrected I hope.
“Thank you for your kind words Mr Yashido, they're much appreciated. Graham, would you please see to Mr Yashido's needs. Champagne, on the house.”
More ass kissing.
Mr Yashido nodded and bowed politely before being ushered away.
“I'll be back shortly,” I whispered to Graham as he left. “Make sure he stays as long as possible.”
With that I continued on out of the exit and into the dark night. The rain was beginning to fall as I stepped into my Hummer, a crack of thunder far off in the distance.
A storm was coming.
About 20 minutes later I stood in Jones' office, a familiar cloud of smoke floating around him as he sat at his desk. I couldn't sit, though, not right now.
“So tell me, what do you know?” I asked firmly as he slid a glass of whisky over towards me.
“Well, as you instructed, I started looking into Mr Lithgow's past and came across some very interesting information.”
“Yes, speak.” His manner of drawing things out was getting to me.
“Did your father ever speak of Mr Lithgow?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
“No, never.”
“Well, it turns out they knew each other for quite some time and used to do some business together many years ago. That eventually turned into something of a rivalry. Lithgow would often try to finance ventures in competition with your father, and vice versa.”
“But why?”
“It seems they fell out over a business deal. I looked at some of your father's old files, and a plan he had for a new venture was quashed by Lithgow just before he began putting it into action. Lithgow, seemingly, outbid yourfather and financed another project.”
Well that sounded f*cking familiar.
“And what was the plan for? What was the project?”
“A set of apartments. Real estate. By the looks of things it would have made your father a lot of money.”
“And Lithgow took that away from him?”
“Yes. He and a pool of investors outbid your father and cashed in on his plan themselves.”
I shook my head. The devious cunt. It looked like he was willing to f*ck anyone over to make more money for himself.
“So how does this relate to my father's death? When did it all happen?”
“Oh, years ago, when you were still a teen. The thing is, it wasn't just Lithgow providing investment. There was a cartel of them, and this is where things get interesting.”
My pulse began to race. “Go on.”
“Well, one of the major investors was a certain Michael Cooper. You asked me once why Charles may have wanted to have him killed. Well, this is the reason. Your father held a serious grudge against him, one he kept hidden from just about everyone. He kept doing business with him, kept up a front for many years, all until recently when he had him killed.”
He took another puff on his cigarette as the information began to settle in my head.
“Your father was extremely Machiavellian, Crash. He never let those who wronged him get away with it. He'd bottle things up, wait for the time to strike. That is what happened with Cooper.”
“So you do think that Cooper's people killed my father? In retaliation? As revenge?”
He shook his head. “No, I see no reason why they would assume your father was to blame. Your father hid his hatred for Cooper from everyone. The only reason I found out was by tracking down that girl, Jenny, the one who killed him.”
“Soooo, who then?”
“Lithgow.”
A silence filled the air for a moment as Jones took a sip of whiskey. His face remained detached, watching me closely for a reaction. He'd worked for my father for years, yet acted like he was just another client.
Deep down, I knew he wanted revenge as well.
“Lithgow and Cooper were the two main investors,” he continued, “the two men with the most power. Your father killed Cooper, and it would only be a matter of time before he took out Lithgow as well. I'd imagine Lithgow knew this, and feared what Charles would do. I believe he took pre-emptive action, and killed your father before he could kill Lithgow.”
I slumped now into a seat in the corner of the room, the news so heavy it drove me off my feet.
Lithgow. I couldn't believe it. Maybe that was why he pulled out on my project. He still had this resentment for my father, even after he'd put him 6 feet under. The snake, he'd get what was coming to him.
But not yet. No, I still needed him. He'd make amends for what he did to my father, he'd back me with the project.
And, poetically, that would be the last f*cking thing he'd ever do.