The next morning, I reapplied the scars on my face, matching those of Delaney as best I could remember. Then I put on the same getup I had used at Elgin Warehouse and drove the rental back to the Ventura Hotel. It was just after noon when I parked in the ramp near the Portellos' limousine. They were scheduled to meet with Bascomb at 1:00 so I ate the sandwich I had taken along, and waited.
Fifteen minutes later Dominic and Salvator, followed by two men I did not recognize came out of the elevator and went over to the limousine. From the look on Salvator's face, I guessed the attorney he had sent for had not yet arrived. Life could be tough in the fast lane.
After the limo drove off, I got out of the rental and dragged the toolbox I had bought for the occasion from its trunk. I was counting on a maintenance man showing up on the Ventura's top floor not to alarm Herb and Studsy. I was also hoping Tramp and Cootie were still out at Bascomb's ranch waiting for Delaney to show up and not filling out a poker foursome. If I were recognized, they would deal me Aces and Eights with no chance to fold.
I rode the elevator to the floor below the top, and got off. Then, I took the steps up the last flight. An elevator arrival meant no place to hide or run if things went awry. And although steps were not much better from an entrapment point of view, downward shots tended to go high.
At the top level, I pushed open the door and bumped out making as much clanging and banging as I could manage without tearing down a wall. As expected, Herb and Studsy rushed from room 422 with their guns drawn.
"Nobody on the floor," Studsy shouted.
"Gotta' fix the air-conditioning," I told him, tilting my face to give them a clear view of the makeup scars. Then, I pulled the billed cap lower over my face. "Room 420's blocking the chill-down-flow to 320. I don't do something quick there could be hell to pay."
"Nobody on the floor," Studsy repeated.
"Jesus Christ," I yelled back. "We got a bunch of old people in 320. Right now, they're so fucking hot they're running around naked trying to cool off. Most don't mind 'cause they're horny as hell. But, the nuns in 312 are screaming holy murder." Then I jabbed the air in front of me, cocked my head to give the pair another view of the makeup scars and asked, "You guys supposed to be carrying guns in here? Sign at the check-in says no guns allowed."
"That's our business!" Herb snapped.
"Could be the police business, too."
Studsy gave me a sidelong stare and then holstered his weapon. "You gonna' be long?"
"Ten minutes tops," I said. "You can watch if you want."
Herb tapped Studsy on the shoulder and said, "We're missing the game."
"Ten minutes, you better be done!" Studsy growled. "'Cause I'll be back."
I grinned and nodded.
When the two of them went back into room 422, I banged over to 420 and picked the lock. Then, I entered and took the two smoke bombs Bascomb had provided out of the toolbox. They were a bit larger than I needed, each nearly filling my palm. However, more is always better when it comes to diversions. I set the bombs on the floor on either side of the door and lit their fuses. Within seconds, the room was filling with billowing black smoke.
"Fire!" I screamed at the top of lungs. Then I grabbed a hammer from the toolbox and then ran out into the hallway. "The goddamn air conditioner's overheated."
Studsy and Herb scrambled out, nearly tripping over each other in wide-eyed panic.
"Hit the bricks, boys," I shouted. "This whole place'll go any second."
"We can't leave," Studsy shouted back.
"Jesus Christ," I complained. Then I pointed to the smoke pouring out of 420. "If you assholes can't move I guess we'll have to put that goddamn fire out ourselves. Get some goddamn water while I rip the cover off the condenser. Move it. Or this whole goddamn floor'll go up."
When Studsy turned and rushed back into room 422, I signaled Herb to follow and went back into 420. As he ran in after me, I sidestepped through the smoke and quickly gave the hammer a little exercise on the side of his skull. Herb let go a low curse but another firm rap gained the cooperation I needed, and he dropped like of bag of old clothes.
I got back out into the hallway just as Studsy reappeared with an ice bucket sloughing water. I quickly pointed toward the smoke and yelled, "That fool pal of yours went in there. Kept screaming about money. I tried to stop him but he went anyway and he ain't come back out."
As Studsy dropped the ice bucket and rushed past into 420, I gave the hammer another exercise session. He hit the carpet chin on and lay still. I rapped him one more time to make sure he would not come around unexpectedly, then I picked up the smoke bombs and hurried into the bath. There, I dropped them into the toilet and jerked the flush lever. The water flowed over as the bowl filled, killing their smudge and leaving a pile of soggy mire in the bottom of the commode.
Figuring I'd use the distraction I'd started the previous day at the ranch, I spent the next two minutes stripping the unconscious men. Then I dragged Herb over to Studsy laying him head to Studsy's groin. After which I pocketed their weapons and left the pair in a 'what-are-friends-for pose.
It took me nearly thirty seconds to locate the money. It was stuffed in a suitcase and shoved behind the davenport. I opened the case and guessed at the amount being several million, before lugging it toward the stairs. As I passed a fire alarm on the way, I busted the glass. I wanted to make sure Studsy and Herb had unimpeachable witnesses to their romantic compromise of security. And, nothing would be more unimpeachable then the firemen who would find them.
The fire engines were just arriving as I drove out of the parking ramp. I was not sure if firefighters had a sense of humor. Nevertheless, I was reasonably certain Salvator would not find the money-loss amusing after he heard two of Mafia's finest were found engrossed in bliss at the time of the robbery.