Case 32 - Hope Springs Again, Part 2


    Keiko had just received a phone call from Sean.  He said that his boss hadn’t come in to work that day.  He ended the call there, so she wasn’t sure if he implied she was to blame, or if he was genuinely worried about what happened.

    More immediately, however, Keiko had a classroom full of wired students, watching a storm outside that howled and blew, and shook the windows, and the building, with thunder.  She felt it would be irresponsible to leave while they were there - not to mention that she would get very soaked on the way to the car.  As if to emphasize her decision, the power flickered off for a moment, coinciding with a flash of lightning and crash of thunder.

    Almost as quickly as the storm picked up, it began slowing to a steady rainfall.  A teacher came in soon after to notify them that there was an announcement upstairs that the students were to return to their classes.  The still excited but disappointed crowd in Keiko’s classroom filed out.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“That was exciting,”  Keiko admitted to the remaining students, the usual members of her martial arts class.  “I suppose we should continue where we left off before the interruption.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“There’s not much time left,”  one of her students pointed out.

    She nodded.  “Then you have to learn fast,”  she joked as she moved in front of the group.  “Follow what I do.  We’ll try to do as many of these as we can before the bell rings.”

    Surprisingly, even though they had been interrupted and disrupted for so long, the class eagerly followed her lead as she showed them the excersize the told them about.  They managed to repeat it a few times before the bell finally rang.

    Keiko gave them one final instruction, and teaser, as she watched them gather their things to leave.  “You all did very well, you’re all well coordinated.  Next class you’ll learn why I showed you this move.”

    And then, suddenly, she was alone again, except for the sound of the rain outside.  But after that phone call, she didn’t have much time to enjoy it.  She had somewhere to go.


---


    Keiko didn’t trust all the students at that high school too much - she drove there in her car instead of her motorcycle.  The latter, she guessed, would draw too much attention from students.  They wouldn’t be able to resist touching it, or possibly damaging it.

    It was that lack of faith in the teenagers that paid off when she left the school that day.  Though the quick walk to the car left her somewhat soaked, the drive was completely dry.

    She drove past the police station, made a U-turn, and parked in front of a restaurant across the street.  Then she quickly picked up her cell phone and sent a text message telling Sean where she was.  She still felt a little wary wandering through the police station, so she didn’t want to go in.

    Her friend Sean came out a few minutes later, walked around the car, and tapped on the passenger window.  Keiko unlocked the door, and he climbed in, dripping.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What’s going on?”  Keiko asked.

    Sean paused for a moment, and looked at the bag in the back seat, containing materials from her martial arts class.  “Wait...you were...?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Teaching a class.”  Keiko completed.  “Why?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I...guess that makes it impossible for you to be involved with my boss’ disappearance,”  Sean laughed.

    Keiko smirked at that.  “You’re underestimating me.  But no, I wasn’t involved.”

    Sean was just about to scold Keiko about joking like that, but then he thought...her insight might be useful.  “Tell me how I’m underestimating you.  Maybe it’ll help us figure out how to solve this mystery.”

    The Asian sighed, and she leaned back against her seat, closing her eyes out of frustration.  “Sean, he just took a huge amount of money from me, extorted me so he can pay gambling debts.  I don’t really care what happened to him.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Nevertheless--”  Sean’s smile disappeared.  “It’s my job to find out.  And I’m stumped.  And you’re a private investigator.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Okay, okay.”  She sat up again, and opened her eyes.  “I mentioned gambling debts.  I would start by guessing that either he was way too late paying, or he tried to short-change them somehow and keep some for himself.  Or that he tried to double his money at a casino and lost it all.”

    Sean nodded.  “So I should start by checking security footage at any casinos within reach of here.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes.”  Keiko nodded.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Why did you make me come down here, instead of you coming up?”

    She sighed.  “I couldn’t bear the thought of walking through there and feeling the eyes and whispers of every cop I got the best of during my escape.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I see,”  Sean replied.  He opened the door of the car.  “I’ll call you when--”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Do you want me to take you where I think he might gamble money away?”  she asked.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah.”  Sean enthusiastically responded.  He closed the door again.  “What made you change your mind?”

    She shrugged.  “As much as I hate your boss, I don’t want to make you suffer for it.”


---


    There was a casino about an hour drive from Garden City.  It wasn’t far, but it felt like entering another tinier, yet much more dazzling city.  A wide street dominated by a tall casino hotel, an amusement park, a horse racing track, and several restaurants and smaller non-casino hotels around it.

    What made this particular casino distinctive, aside from its proximity to Garden City, was that it was a fairly well known haven for loan sharks.  They made no secret of their existence, and as long as they didn’t violate the law too blatantly, they were left to their trade.  Which meant their collection actions were handled secretly.

    Keiko never had occasion to know any of these loan sharks.  Sean probably knew that better, but the way he tended to ask questions sounded too much like a cop to actually get any help from that kind of element.  She did, however, know how to ask questions, and who to ask.

    She strolled into the casino hotel with Sean close behind.  Since hotel security would likely throw her out for walking in and bothering people with questions, first she approached the front desk and asked for a room for one night.  Then, room key in hand so she looked less suspicious, she found the closest pub to the cash office, and looked around.

    The idea was to find someone wearing a suit in there, and who looked like he had been there a while, and had no intention of leaving anytime soon - but was not drunk.  As an added bonus, the man in the pinstriped suit she spotted also had a briefcase on the floor next to him.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What if he’s just a businessman?”  Sean asked.

    Keiko looked at him sideways.  Then she shook her head and said, “Wait here.”

    She approached the man’s table and stood in front of it, shadowing him.  “I was told you could help me win big,”  she said.

    The man looked up.  He was overweight, but not particularly heavy, and had long black hair.  “Beat it,”  was all he said, before going back to his drink.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What gave me away?”  she asked.

    He looked up again and raised an eyebrow.  “Never had an Asian come in here before.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well maybe you know something about the missing police chief, then,”  she asked.

    He just chuckled.

    She leaned closer, and whispered, “Look, I’m not a cop, I’m a private detective.  I know he had a gambling problem and owed some money.  I don’t care why he vanished, I just want to find him.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You’re asking the wrong guy,”  he repeated.  “Now beat it, before I beat you.”

    Keiko frowned, and walked back to Sean quietly.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“That’s it?”  Sean asked her.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“No,”  she replied.  “I have to wait for him to leave.  Security is watching in here.  Speaking of which, that’s who we should talk to next.”


---


    The security office was divided in half.  The outer part was not quite designed for receiving guests - there was no seating, and only a single bullet resistant window and a locked metal door dividing it from the secure part of the office.  Nevertheless, the outer door did allow guests talk to whoever sat behind the window.  Presumably it was in case someone had a complaint.

    Keiko approached the window calmly, and eyed a large uniformed man in sitting in a creaky chair on the other side.  “I need to speak with your supervisor,”  she said.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“He’s not available,”  the large man replied without even looking at her.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’m a private detective,”  she clarified.  “I need to find a hotel guest that might be in trouble.”

    He finally looked up.  “But you’re not a cop?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“He is.”  Keiko pointed a thumb behind her at Sean.

    The large man sighed like he had been horribly inconvenienced.  “Have a seat outside in the lobby, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.  It might be a while.”

    Keiko was getting angry, and Sean could tell.  That’s when he decided to try and take charge, and move things along.

    He approached the window and pressed his police I.D. against the window, rapping on it loudly with his free hand.  “Hey!  Get the supervisor now!”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I told you, he’s not available,”  the large man repeated, this time more irritably.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I could charge you with obstruction,”  Sean bluffed.  “I could smash through this window, drag your fat ass out here, and arrest you.”

    The large man finally got up.  He pushed his chair aside, and reached under the desk for something.  Then he disappeared for a second to the right.  The steel door buzzed, then clicked open, and he emerged with a black wooden club.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You’re gonna do what now?”  he asked.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You heard me!”  Sean refused to back down.

    The fat guard hit Sean hard across the shoulder, and then he drove the club into his stomach.  Sean cried out and doubled over.

    Keiko simply reacted to her friend being in pain.  She hit the guard in the throat, so he started gasping, and then she took the club from him and knocked him on the back of the head, so he fell to the ground.

    The metal door opened abruptly, and a slimmer, older, and taller uniformed man stepped through.  His tag showed that he was the supervisor.  

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What the hell is going on?”  he asked.
    

TO BE CONTINUED?
    


-- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2011 by Jason Froikin, and may not be 
--    reprinted without permission.  
-- World Class and all characters therein are property of 
--    Strike Two and Jason Froikin.