Chapter 42

     It was 6:30p.m. and Nic was restless. The talk with his new friend Yaritza had only gained him an invitation to her apartment the next morning to discuss specifics of their plan. Had they not spent so much time together at Les Lez, he would have begun searching banks. Instead, they parted ways shortly after six, and he went about looking around the Belgian, where Mark Robertson had worked. There was no real reason for the visit, since Yaritza had brought him up to speed about all she had done on the case. Somehow, he felt the need to check it out anyway. Though he boasted that he lacked restrictions on how to find people, he lacked a good starting place, and anything involving Mark Robertson sounded good.

   Nic leaned on one of the many bars. A young bartender ambled up to him immediately….no other customers were present. “What do you need?”

  “Many things. For now, I will take a beer.”

  “Preference?”

  “Pick something on tap. I’m not picky.”

   A minute later, the bartender brought him a mug of some unusually bitter ale. Nic sipped and grinned at the boy. “You’ve gained my trust, it’s a miracle.”

  “You’re welcome.”

   Nic took a few more sips, looking around the casino. Lots of slot players, some table players, few drinkers. He hated it all, but it was necessary to tolerate, he felt. He looked back at the kid, who tried to make himself busy polishing mugs. “Your have a name?”

  “Dean.”

  “Dean, did you ever know a guy who worked here named Mark?”

  “I did. Mark Robertson. He was all right.”

  “Just all right?”

  “I didn’t know him well. He worked at one of the bars on the other side of the room.”

  “The bartenders here don’t really hang out?”

  “Nah, our shifts are usually pretty long and we have our own stations.”

  “Never shared a station?”

  “Once. He cracked some jokes, but seemed inward, like he had a lot on the plate, you know?”

  “I do know.”

  “Did you know him?”

  “No, but I’ve been hearing a lot about Mark. His killer might still be loose, and someone asked me to look into finding him…or her.”

  “You a private eye?”

  “I’m a hunter, close enough.”

  “Well, I remember the cops were here looking into it, the detective talked to my boss.”

  “Not to you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Felt left out?”

  “Considering my parking tickets, I wasn’t anxious to talk to police.”

   Nic chuckled and sipped more of his beer.  As he finished it off, the kid grabbed his glass for a refill. While he did so, someone in a dark suit walked by and handed him an envelope.

   Nic regarded the document. “Pay day?”

  “Sure is.”

  “Decent pay here?”

  “They try to keep the employees happy.” He looked at his pay stub and grimaced. “I just wish they didn’t take out some of the little stuff. It adds up.”

  “Can’t avoid the Feds, you know.”

  “Yeah, sure. And social security doesn’t really bother me much, it’s life. It’s the health insurance and the fund that kills me.”

   Nic grinned. “Health costs up?”

  “I pay $100 out of each check for it.”

  “A little high if you’re single.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s the fund?”

  “Something they call the youth fund, we learned about it in orientation. Anyone who didn’t want it taken out was taken out of the job. It was a condition of working here.”

  “Ah, the involuntary charity.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I like helping and all, but I need to live, too.”

  “Sure. What does this fund do?”

  “From what I remember, it helps kids in single-parent families who don’t get child-support from the deadbeat dads or moms.”

  “Usually dads,” Nic commented.

  “Probably.”

   Nic held a hand out. “Can I see the check? I promise I won’t memorize your personal stuff.”

   Dean handed it over. Nic looked at all of it carefully. For the most part, it was a simple employee’s paycheck. He looked for the corporate logo. Sure enough, at the lower right-hand corner was “Belgian Corporation”. Underneath in very small print were the words, “Affiliate of JB and Hughes LTD”.

   Nic looked at the kid again. “Who are JB and Hughes?”

  “I think Hughes is British, they’re the big owners of this place. JB is a law firm, I think.”

   Nic nodded slowly. “Jefferson-Brown.”

  “What?”

   Nic quickly finished his drink and handed the check back. “Thanks for the beers, Dean.” He left the casino in a hurry.