Dead Hand: A Cold Poker Gang Mystery Read online

  She came out smiling. And gave him a kiss.

  That was wonderful. A beautiful woman kissing him in the morning. Didn’t get better as far as he was concerned.

  Then they had walked together the five blocks to the Golden Nugget for breakfast.

  To Sarge it all felt completely natural and when he mentioned that to her on the walk, she had laughed and agreed. “I wouldn’t mind getting used to this,” she had said. “Is that too forward too fast?”

  He had laughed and mentioned that after what they had done last night and then again this morning, that seemed pretty slow.

  She had agreed to that.

  After they both had finished off their breakfasts and read the morning paper, her on her tablet and he with the actual paper, they turned their attention back to the case.

  “So are we going into the tunnels?” Pickett asked.

  Sarge hated the idea, but could see no other way around it. “Call Robin and see if she has any updates that will stop such lunacy. If not, I’ll call Mike.”

  Pickett nodded and after a moment was talking with Robin on speaker phone. There was no one at any table close enough to overhear, luckily.

  Robin and her computer geeks were making progress, and it all seemed to lead to the porn industry and the tunnels. No trace of any of the cars driven by a missing person had ever been found, not even a part. So the cars were clearly just being stored and there was more than enough room down in the old tunnels to do that, or to carve out new rooms.

  “We have nowhere near enough evidence to get a search warrant on any of the August Tux Shop properties,” Robin said. “So we can’t look for any entrance from the surface.”

  “So we look for the evidence from below,” Sarge said, nodding. “In the public areas. I’m going to call Mike Dans and hire him and his people to go with us down there.”

  “I’m coming as well,” Robin said.

  “Nope,” Pickett said. “We need you right where you are at and I’m sure Mike can set up monitoring equipment so you and Will and his people can trace our movements.”

  “But…” Robin started to argue but Pickett cut her off.

  “Partner, you know I am right,” Pickett said. “So get as much information on that old tunnel as you can while we set this up with Mike.”

  “All right,” Robin said. “Not happy.”

  “Not happy to be going into a tunnel either,” Pickett said, smiling and winking at Sarge.

  “Call me when you are set up,” Robin said and clicked off.

  “She gets that way,” Pickett said, smiling. “But she knows I’m right. That’s what annoys her.”

  Sarge got on the phone to Mike Dans and told him what they had found, what their suspicions were.

  “You are going to need a team to go down in there,” Mike said.

  “That’s why I called,” Sarge said, glad that Mike was ahead of him a little. “I want to hire you and your team to go with me and Detective Pickett.”

  “No need to pay,” Mike said.

  “I’m paying,” Sarge said. “I have more money than I know what to do with and I want you running this operation. So I want your best team that money can buy on this.”

  “Afraid what we are going to find?” Mike asked.

  “Deathly afraid,” Sarge said. “Besides, those damn storm drains scare hell out of me.”

  “Yeah,” me too,” Mike said. “Send me all your data and what you think is actually going on and where. I’ll meet you at noon at the Bellagio Café so we can go over details. We’ll go in right after dark.”

  “Thanks, Mike,” Sarge said.

  He clicked off the phone and looked into the worried eyes of the woman he was falling for.

  “We’ve got a professional team,” Sarge said.

  “Which takes this idea up just a notch above totally nuts,” Pickett said.

  Sarge could only nod at that.

  And try not to think about getting lost in cold, dark, concrete tunnels.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  October 20th, 2016

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  PICKETT FLAT HATED the idea of going down into those storm drains. The tunnels were one of the better kept secrets of Las Vegas. Tourists never knew they existed, and the homeless used them for shelter. And as far as she knew, the homeless very seldom went very far in from the entrances.

  And there were a lot of entrances all over the city. Some of the major ones were outside the main freeways, but a lot of the smaller entrances were in basements of parking garages.

  Las Vegas had built two separate drainage systems, often running side-by-side underground. One system took away wastewater from homes and casinos and hotels while the second system only drained away surface water. But the second system had tunnels far larger than the normal sewers to handle the rare flash floods.

  And the storm drain system got a lot less attention since it was seldom used for any storms. Even when it rained, the storm drains seldom had more than a few inches running through them.

  When a large storm was headed toward Vegas back in her last years on the force, the charity organizations mounted a vast rescue operation to get the homeless out of the tunnels before the flood hit. No one knows exactly how many they didn’t rescue, but those tunnels had mostly filled with that storm. If anyone had been down there, they wouldn’t have stood a chance.

  Now she and Sarge were going down into that storm drain system, something she had never had to do as a full detective. Seemed like being retired didn’t have all the benefits it was cracked up to have.

  Pickett had Robin send Mike all their data and theories and all the data on where the cars disappear and told her about the meeting at lunch.

  Then after breakfast Pickett and Sarge decided they were going to need to buy some supplies, since neither of them had the clothes or supplies for what they were going to attempt later in the day. So for the first time in a very long time, she went shopping with a man.

  She had to admit, she liked it and he had her laughing most of the hour it took them.

  They both ended up with boots that were water repellant, heavy gloves, and powerful flashlights. They would wait to talk with Mike at lunch about what more they would need.

  They dropped their new supplies back at their condos, then headed for lunch at the Bellagio, getting there about twenty minutes before Mike and settling into the same booth they had spent so much time in the day before.

  Around them the casino noises were muffled by the thick green plants and the sounds of others eating and talking in the restaurant. Even the same waitress as yesterday waited on them, greeting them like old friends.

  “Starting to feel like home,” Sarge had said, laughing.

  “Maybe on big cases we could reserve it,” Pickett said.

  She hoped that in the rest of their careers they wouldn’t have a case this big again.

  Robin was going to join them for the planning meeting so she could coordinate everything with Will and her computer people. And she really wanted to meet Mike Dans. But she hadn’t arrived yet either, so Pickett decided to ask what Sarge was thinking about the plan. She actually had managed to not give it much thought.

  “Trying not to,” Sarge said. “I’m hoping that Mike knows someone that is an expert on the tunnels who he can trust and help us plan how we go in.”

  “Afraid of being monitored?”

  “That and a lot more,” Sarge said, nodding. “If this operation is as large as it seems to be, they will have every possible entrance to that area of the tunnels monitored. And more than likely guards and other traps for anyone getting too near the area.”

  Pickett sat back, slightly stunned. The idea of a firefight in the tunnels had never crossed her mind, but it sure made sense. And then something else sent a chill down her spine.

  “If those people are alive down there,” she said, “or some of them, we have to go in with the element of surprise.”

  Sarge nodded. “That’s why I want to wa
it for both Mike and Robin on this and just try not to think about it. They are going to know how to block security cams and watch for other traps we might run into.”

  Pickett just shook her head. “And I thought just going into storm sewers was scary enough.”

  “If this actually is a million dollar porn operation,” Sarge said, “and they have kidnapped and maybe killed as many people as we think they have, the tunnels are going to be the least of our worries.”

  She knew he was right.

  Completely right.

  And she couldn’t see another choice but to go right into it. They couldn’t legally go in and search above ground. They had no evidence at all against anyone. So they had to go into the public areas below ground.

  “I hope we are wrong about what is happening down there,” Sarge said, staring off at the people around them in the restaurant going about their daily lives and vacations.

  “Rather start back at square one to figure out all this?” Pickett asked.

  “To be wrong on this I sure would,” Sarge said, nodding.

  “But you don’t think we’re wrong, do you?”

  He shook his head.

  And again, she agreed with him. All her years of being a detective told her they were right.

  And that meant those tunnels were going to lead them straight into hell.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  October 20th, 2016

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  MIKE DANS ARRIVED about the same time as Robin and joined them.

  Mike looked ex-military all the way, with a shaved head, massive shoulders, and a panther-like walk. He just radiated power and confidence and Sarge loved that.

  The introductions were great. Sarge introduced Robin and Pickett and then Pickett and Mike dropped into computer and job and security service shoptalk, ignoring both Sarge and Pickett.

  Sarge found it funny and was glad they didn’t talk about the coming mission until after they had all ordered lunch.

  And it was clear to Sarge that both Robin and Pickett liked Mike almost instantly. That was good, considering what they were going to trust him with.

  “So, Mike,” Sarge said after the waitress left with their orders. “Any ideas of what we might be facing and how to do it?”

  “I should have a little more idea any time now,” Mike said. “I have a great friend with some pretty special ground-penetrating radar equipment taking a look in that area for us right now.”

  Sarge was shocked at that, as clearly was Pickett and Robin.

  “GPR is only good for about sixty feet in this sandy soil,” Robin said.

  Mike smiled. “Regular GPR, yes. My friend has invented a way for the government to go much deeper by combining the waves off of a dozen GPRs at the same time, using a massive computer to sort out the details.”

  “How far down can he go?” Sarge asked.

  Mike smiled. “Detail will only be empty spaces and pipes and tunnels and such, but he’ll get us a pretty clear picture of that area if anything is down there.”

  “And the shaft going down if it’s under the August Tux Shop area?” Robin asked.

  “He’s doing a complete search of that 25 block area at the level of those two tunnels,” Mike said. “After lunch, if you don’t mind, Sarge, we can go up to that secret room of yours and study the results.”

  “No problem,” Sarge said. “So you think we can get in there without being seen?”

  “Into the main tunnel down there, yes,” Mike said. “And we can block any security cameras and trips they might have set up along the way.”

  Sarge could see that Mike wasn’t saying something.

  “But the problem is…” Sarge said, giving him his chance.

  Mike nodded. “Getting into that closed-off tunnel. I have an expert who knows where that old tunnel connections to the new tunnel are and the concrete used to close it off.”

  Mike dug into a folder he had brought along and set on the booth beside him. “This is a picture of that old tunnel where it meets the new tunnel.”

  He slid the picture to Sarge who looked at it and could feel himself shudder. That was a nightmare.

  He slid it to Pickett.

  The picture showed clearly the square shape of the old tunnel, now filled with concrete. And in the very center of the fill was a small square hole on the floor that was clearly drainage for any water that got down into the old tunnel. The hole was black and it looked like some sort of slime had built up on the floor of the hole.

  “How big is that hole?” Pickett asked as she passed the picture to Robin.

  “I’ll be able to squeeze through,” Mike said. “But barely.”

  Robin just stared at the picture and shook her head.

  “So one of the most hidden and inaccessible places in Las Vegas,” Sarge said.

  Mike nodded. “That old tunnel entrance there is a six mile walk from the main entrance to the newer tunnel. As far as we can tell, those holes in the ends are the only places to enter that old tunnel since all access drains were closed or diverted to the new tunnel.”

  “Wow,” Robin said, still shaking her head.

  Sarge could tell that Pickett looked like she was almost in shock as the reality of what they were thinking sank in. That picture just looked damned scary. He knew Pickett was one of the bravest people who had ever carried a badge. And he seldom backed down either, but right now he was having second thoughts as well.

  “So anything closer than six miles that would still be safe?” Robin asked. “I have a hunch the main entrances to that tunnel will be monitored.”

  “They are,” Mike said, nodding.

  Sarge looked up at his friend, who was looking very serious. “My man who took that picture this morning also had equipment on him that could sense monitoring. That main tunnel is under surveillance and monitoring the entire length, all nineteen miles of it. And those old tunnel entrances both have major surveillance on them, including video. He snapped that picture while just walking past like an explorer.”

  Silence filled the booth. Around them the casino and dining room sounds seemed to just fade back and Sarge could almost hear his heart beating.

  “We really are on to something big, aren’t we?” Pickett said softly.

  Mike nodded.

  “Shit, just shit,” Robin said.

  Sarge just shook his head. He had so hoped that they were wrong about the tunnels and where all those people had gone. But there was more and more evidence pointing to the fact that they were not.

  And they had nowhere near enough evidence to go in with a search warrant to the August Tux Shop and try to find the entrance. And even the ground-penetrating radar, if it showed a shaft going down, wouldn’t be enough evidence to prove any crime.

  Somehow they needed to get into that tunnel and find those people. Or at least their cars.

  At that moment the waitress brought their lunches and all four of them put the task at hand away.

  But Sarge wasn’t sure he could eat that much at the moment.

  Pickett reached over and put her hand on his leg, then smiled at him.

  She looked worried in those wonderful brown eyes, but determined.

  And with that smile he felt slightly better. And her touch made him feel even better. He smiled at her and nodded.

  They were not tackling all this alone. They had the best help around them they could get.

  And if the radar found more under there, they were going to need to bring in even more help.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  October 20th, 2016

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  AFTER LUNCH THEY headed in three cars back to the Ogden and up to Sarge’s apartment. Pickett hoped that they hadn’t left any sort of evidence of their wonderful night draped over a chair or something silly like that. This morning she just hadn’t cared and she doubted Sarge had as well.

  But now with Robin and Mike with them, Pickett felt there was no point in being embarrassed. And then she realiz
ed how silly that thought was. She was a retired grown woman. She had a hunch Robin knew exactly what had happened last night. And that was fine.

  So when they got to Sarge’s condo, they all headed to his secret wine room with the incredible computer set-up.

  Mike took the computer chair while the three of them stood behind him. The large screens were big enough and placed high enough that there was no problem seeing what he was doing.

  Mike quickly, with his fingers moving faster than Pickett could imagine typing, brought up some sort of files.

  “I’ve got all the preliminary scans,” Mike said. “Here we go. First I’m going to run this like we are looking down through the ground from a plane flying overhead.”

  That made sense to Pickett until the image showed up.

  “This is down to one hundred and twenty feet,” Mike said, pointing to an indicator on the screen.

  Pickett couldn’t make sense out of what she was seeing. It seemed more like a bunch of blurry lines than anything.

  “Oh, shit,” Mike said softly, more to himself than anyone.

  “You’re going to have to help me read this,” Sarge said.

  “Me too,” Pickett said. She glanced at Robin who seemed to have seen a ghost her face was so white.

  “There are fifteen or twenty city blocks of tunnels and rooms down there,” Mike said.

  “City blocks?” Sarge asked.

  Pickett just couldn’t grasp what Mike had just said.

  “City blocks,” Mike said, clearly not happy with what he was seeing. “It’s like a rat’s nest of tunnels and rooms.”

  Mike ran his finger on the screen, showing lines of open spaces. Pickett could see what he was outlining and it still didn’t make sense.

  “From the looks of this,” Mike said, “There is an open area in the center of all this, with what looks to be a dozen tunnels leading to complexes of rooms off the center area.”

  “Those are larger than rooms,” Robin said, leaning forward and indicating some other things on the big screen. Clearly she could read this kind of image from ground penetrating radar. “Those are the size of two- and three- and four-bedroom homes dug out of the dirt. Looks like tunnels lead from the main room to them.”