Riverboat Gambler Ch 01

This story is part of an ongoing series.

The chronological order of my stories is listed in WifeWatchman's biography.

Feedback and

constructive

criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

This story is dedicated to the memory of Captain Phil Harris of the F.V.

Cornelia Marie

, from the program '

Deadliest Catch

'. May he and those who have perished in the waters of the Bering Sea rest in peace.

Part 1 - Early Mists Rising

The sound of a foghorn followed by ships bells cut across the choppy waters of the River as the early dawn's light reveled an overcast day in Southport, with light fog over the waters where the confluence of the River and State Line River formed the Big River. The weather befitted the somber mood of the morning.

It was just after dawn on Saturday, January 12th, and Jerome Davis and I had been driving for four hours through the night in my black SBI SUV to get here, the Dagny Piers in Southport. The Dagny Piers were a copycat of New York City's Chelsea Piers, and were an attempt to clean up and beautify Southport and make this area a good place for shopping, entertainment, and business.

We parked in the parking lot along the piers, where several law enforcement vehicles were parked, and a number of boats were docked. Paddlewheel boats and other varieties of fishing and transportation boats were visible against the somber gray skies.

"There you are!" called out a voice. It was FBI Special Agent in Charge Jack Muscone. With him was Special Agent Martin Nash. "Glad you could come down. This one is right up your alley, Don." It had been Muscone that had called me and Jerome at 1:30am and asked us to come down as FBI Consultants.

"And I remember this guy." I said as a muscular light-skinned black man came up, wearing a black mock-turtleneck shirt and a brown-and-black sportscoat over it, his Southport Police badge hanging from a necklace around his neck. "Hey, Detective Graham! Long time no see." I said as we shook hands and man-hugged.

"It's Lieutenant now, I just got promoted." said Eugene. "Great to see you again, Commander. I've heard all about what you've done up there."

"Eugene Graham, this is Detective Jerome Davis." I said in introduction. As they shook hands, I said "Jerome, Eugene helped us out a few years ago as part of the SBI Reserve."

"Yeah, that didn't go over so well for me." said Eugene, remembering that Captain Harold Malone had put a gun in his ear because Eugene was black. (

Author's note: 'Dark Side of the Force', Ch. 02-03.

)

"Well, Malone was murdered in Alabama." I said. "So,

Lieutenant

Graham, you seem to be surviving despite being in Southport Vice."

"Yeah, I've learned to play the Game." said Eugene. "I'm no friend of Cerone and Taggart, but much less of a friend of the FBI dumbasses they've got down here... oh, sorry, Mr. Muscone. Just telling the Iron Crowbar a little inconvenient truth, there."

"I hear you." said Muscone. "And there's the dumbasses coming up now." I looked where Muscone was looking. Walking across the parking lot were FBI Special Agents Andrew Parsons and David Rovers, who had accompanied the U.S. DOJ Civil Rights woman in her attempt to arrest me with the plan of murdering me later, and the same Agents who had raided BOW Enterprises trying to find and arrest the Guardians of Justice. (

Author's note: 'The Guardians of Justice', Ch's 3-4, 6.

)

Parsons was fairly tall and slender, with black hair and a dumb looking face. Rovers was shorter, more broad-shouldered, brown haired, and had a face that looked like a perma-snarl. David 'Cunt' Rovers would be an adequate nickname for him, I thought to myself.

"What are these guys doing here?" snarled Parsons as they came up to us.

"I asked them here, to help us out." said Muscone. "Got a problem with that?"

"Yes, I do." said Parsons. "But I guess I can't do much about it."

"You're late to the party, Troy." said Rovers. "They took the body away hours ago."

"Ahh, a body." I said. "Jack, what's it about?" I used Jack's first name to show the other FBI Agents that I was on a first-name basis and very good terms with the FBI's alpha-dog on the scene.

"Murder." said Muscone. "Graham is here as the Southport Police rep, since he's worked with you before. I'll tell you the reasons for the FBI's involvement as we go look at the scene."

With that, he led the way towards one of the long paddlewheel boats that was docked nearby. "This is the

Riverboat Gambler.

" said Muscone. "The crime occurred on board."

We got to the walkway, which really was stairs leading onto the lower deck. Right at the entrance was what looked like a metal detector. It did not beep as we went aboard. I saw Southport Police Officers and persons with jackets that had 'BIA' on the back... the U.S. Government's Bureau of Indian Affairs.

Once aboard, Special Agent Parsons said "The body was found in back." He made a move as if to lead us there.

"When passengers first board the boat," I asked, "where do they go first?"

"To the dining room, upstairs." Muscone said.

"Let's go there, then." I said. "If the body is removed and the crime scene secured, there's no rush to get there. Let's take this one step at a time, from the beginning."

"Told you he'd be methodical." said Muscone to the others, with what was for him a grin, as Martin Nash led the way up the stairs. Parsons looked put out, and Rovers looked irritated, which is how he always seemed to look.

The dining room was the front half of the upper deck of the boat. The windows were all glass, and would give great views once the boat set sail. There were a large number of square tables with settings for four.

"The patrons have dinner first." said Muscone. "I'll fill you in on the 'why' of that later. After dinner, when the gambling opens, many of them go to the casino and poker rooms on the lower deck." He led us down the steps to the lower deck, and through a door in the middle of the port side of the ship. There were cashier's windows along a hallway.

"Customers have to buy their chips here, and are given a receipt." said Muscone. "At the end of the evening, they must redeem the chips, all of them. They're given a form that's like a receipt, that tells how much they won or lost. The IRS gets a copy of that form, as well. That metal detector at the ship's entrance actually detects anyone trying to take chips with them, and people

have

been arrested and had to spend the night in jail if they try to remove them. It's very tightly controlled, unlike Las Vegas or Atlantic City."

I nodded. "So even the poker players must do that?" I asked.

"Yes." said Muscone. "There is a cashier's window back there for them. Okay, let's go back there before Rovers and Parsons have heart attacks."

Part 2 - The Crime Scene

We went back out to the deck and along it to the back of the boat. "The poker rooms are back here." said Muscone. "On the starboard side is machinery and engine-related things. On the port side are four rooms for poker. Come on in."

I noticed a camera on the back corner of the boat overwatching the door as we went inside. The carpets were green and the walls paneled with dark paneling, making what light there was a premium in the hallway. The two rooms on the right were for Texas Hold 'Em poker, while the rooms on the left had simple tables for real poker to be played by real poker players.

Further back, at the end of the hall, was a small room that had a sofa, a desk, and a bed. It was where the crime had occurred. Muscone said "This stateroom is the only sleeping berth on the

Riverboat Gambler

, except for the crew's sleeping quarters. I'm told the

River Rose's

staterooms are like this. I'll tell you more about the

River Rose

in a few minutes."

"The body was found on the floor here, as you can see from the markings on the floor." said Parsons, trying to take over. The markings, as well as video I would see later, showed the victim found lying on his belly, head towards the sofa against the back wall, feet towards the door.. "He was hit on the back of the head by a blunt object... something like a crowbar, maybe."

"Good weapon to use. Gets the job done." I replied, very aware of the underlying nature of Parsons's comment. "Anything missing from the room? Candlesticks?"

"One of the crew members came down and looked around." said Rovers. "He said he didn't notice anything wrong at first glance, but he couldn't be sure."

"Well..." I said, "either something in here was used, or the perp took the murder weapon with him. There's camera surveillance of everyone coming in and out of these poker rooms. So if no one is carrying anything unusual... like a crowbar... out of this area when they disembarked, then the murder weapon must still be around here somewhere. Unless you've found it, of course."

Parsons and Rovers had looks on their faces between consternation and pouting. It was Eugene Graham that said "Nothing was found sir, at least nothing with blood or tissue on it."

"Did you see the body itself, Eugene?" I asked.

"Yes sir." said Graham. "Back of his head was really smashed in. There should be 'evidence' on the murder weapon, if we can find it and it's not in the water."

As we left the room, I noticed a door to the immediate left, towards the center of the boat. "What's this?" I asked. "Another playing room?" I tried the door. It was locked. I noticed that the hinges were on the right and doorknob on the left; if the door opened, anyone coming through would not be noticed by anyone in the hallway or playing rooms until the door closed again.

"That goes to the Captain's Bridge and to the Dining Room." said Parsons. "It's a double door. This door is locked on this side, and the other one locked on the other side. It can only be opened by someone with keys, and only in an emergency, such as a fire: it will set off an alarm if it's opened."

"We found that out the hard way this morning." said Eugene.

"So our victim was playing poker in this room." I said, turning into the 'back left' room, as one came to it from the back of the boat. It was the room nearest the stateroom.

"Yes." said Muscone, before Parsons or Rovers could say anything. "I'll tell you more later, but he played in here every Friday. There were five players last night. McCovey, the victim, won about $1500, and had just cashed in his chips. We're still trying to find those other people and ask them some questions."

"Was the money taken from his body?" I asked.

"No, it was still in his pants pocket." said Parsons. "The killer might not have had time to roll him over... or didn't have the strength to do it."

I did not see anything of particular interest in the playing room. "All right." I said. "Unless someone has something they want to look at, let's go back upstairs."

As we walked along the lower port-side deck, Muscone stopped at a door. "Come in here." he said. We went through the door and past the cashier's windows, and into the main gambling room, with tables for all the various popular games such as roulette, craps, and blackjack.

Going through the casino, which was a lot darker with the lights not on, and only the gray light of the morning filtering through the windows providing any illumination at all, I asked "How can the gambling tables be certified to be level on a riverborne ship?"

"Some verrrry interesting technology, there." said Muscone. "You saw what looks like a rubber ring along the sides of the ship?" I nodded. "Well, the docks on the island they go to have some special clamps that extend to fit under that ring and lift the boat a few inches... essentially out of the water, like a drydock. Then the various tables and games are checked and made level. They're on gyroscopes, as well. It works very well, from what I'm told, but is expensive. The Bureau of Indian Affairs watches over that like a hawk, which I'll explain upstairs."

"Interesting." I said. "Okay, before I begin forming theories without hearing facts, let's go back to the dining room so you can fill us in on everything."

Part 3 - Details of the Case

We returned to the dining room. The dining room staff had provided coffee and doughnuts on a side table. We availed ourselves of the food and coffee and sat down between two of the dining tables. Muscone pulled out a chair and sat down. I pulled one out and sat next to him, to his right. Davis, Nash, and Graham pulled up chairs and sat down facing us. I notice that Parsons and Rovers did not sit down, but looked around impatiently near the back of the dining room.

"Okay, here's the full background that I've gotten so far." said Muscone. "This boat and its sister paddlewheel boat, the

River Rose

, were bought by a man named Jimmy 'The Creek' DeAngelo, Southport's best-known bookmaker. He refurbished them to be gambling and restaurant boats, and opened up for business about ten years ago, as part of the Dagny Piers project."

"This boat, the

Riverboat Gambler

," continued Muscone, "sails at 6:00pm on Friday and Saturday nights. They cruise out to Foghorn Island, which is in the middle of the Big River just south of the confluence of the other rivers. People have dinner on the way out; there's no gambling until they dock at the island. Once there, the casinos and poker rooms are opened, and people can gamble. They set sail to come back at midnight. The casino room is closed, but the poker rooms stay open until the boat approaches the dock."

"The

River Rose

has sleeping cabins that the

Riverboat Gambler

here doesn't have, except for that one room you saw below." said Muscone. "The

River Rose

docks at Foghorn Island and stays there until Sunday evening, setting sail at 6:00pm, and the gambling continues all weekend."

"On weeknights," said Muscone, "both boats's restaurants are open, and they do a good business. The

River Rose

is the more elegant place, featuring fine dining, and they usually are hosting private parties. The

Riverboat Gambler

here is like a nice restaurant anywhere: good food, nice atmosphere. It's very popular, and is always busy."

"Okay, now for the reasons the FBI is here." Muscone said. "The boats go to Foghorn Island because it's owned by the very tiny Indian Reservation inside the State west of the Big River. Yeah, I know, I'm not being politically correct there, I should say 'Native Americans' or 'Indigenous Peoples', or something..."

"I like what Canada calls them: 'First Nations'." I said.

"Works for me." said Muscone. "Anyway, Foghorn Island was taken over by the U.S. Government from the States around here, and any private landowners by

eminent domain

, and a weather station and radio antenna was set up on it. Then the 'First Nations' people claimed it as a sacred space, and the U.S. Government, which had paid the money to claim the island, now turned around and just gave it to the Native Americans, and made it part of the Reservation."

"But as part of the deal," continued Muscone, "the U.S. Government required the Native Americans to allow the Government to run the weather station there. They pay rent on it, but it can't be taken down, except by Act of Congress. So Jimmy 'The Creek' DeAngelo, who is part Native American himself, struck a deal with the Reservation to allow his riverboats to dock at the island and gamble. They get a cut, DeAngelo avoids any State regulations, and everyone is happy... until last night."

Muscone fiddled with his smartphone, and a moment later we had an incoming text, which was a photo of a white man, with a face suggesting a large body was attached to it, and a shock of frazzled black hair. "This is the murder victim. His name is Thomas McCovey. Single, never married, no children that we could find. Ever heard of him?"

The others had not. I said "Name sounds familiar... bank robbery?"

"Yes." said Muscone. "And that's the FBI's second tie-in to this case. Twelve years ago there were a series of bank robberies in Turpin Heights, in the State to the south of us, and here in Southport. There were five bank robbers, and they were well-informed of the various banks's operations, locations of money, times to go in, security codes, all that stuff."

"Okay, now I remember reading about the case. This gang hit a pharmacy, too?" I said. Muscone nodded and I said "Go ahead and tell these guys, which will refresh my memory, too."

"Like you said, though it was not as commonly known as the bank robberies, is that there was also a robbery of a pharmacy." said Muscone. "The robbers cleaned out all the narcotics, which were all in one drawer instead of dispersed among the pharmaceuticals. As they were leaving, one of the perps made the pharmacist get on his knees, then the bastard shot the pharmacist in the back of the head. In cold blood, for no reason we could ever find."

"Witnesses got a decent description of the getaway car that had four men in it." said Muscone. "They drove off and left the perp who'd taken the time to kill the pharmacist. He ran, and sight of him was lost. Some ten minutes later, McCovey was seen walking in the area. Do you guys know how bad Turpin Heights is? Ever been there?"

"I have." I said, remembering picking up Betty Morelli in the Chippewa Crossing district in that area. Truly a rough area. (

Author's note: 'Film Noir'.

).

"Yeah, I've been there on undercover missions, a lot." said Eugene Graham. "The good sections are like the Town & County's Tenderloin District's worst areas. The bad sections are like an Iraqi war zone."

"Exactly." said Muscone. "Well, the Police saw McCovey walking there, which people just don't do, so they picked him up. His physical body description matched the pharmacy robber that left the store after the others and got left behind. The perps cut off a lot of the bank videocameras, but the tape of one video they missed showed a man that looked a lot like him, even with a full black mask on."

"He was non-cooperative from the get-go. He immediately called a lawyer, and a reputable and expensive one, at that." said Muscone. Just then, Martin Nash arrived with papers in file folders. "Ah, thanks Martin." Muscone said as Nash handed us each a folder. "Inside, you'll find the background info on McCovey from that time as well as more recently, but I'll go over it now."

"McCovey was in the Army, and deployed to Afghanistan." said Muscone. "He was a good soldier, and made Sergeant quickly. But then some rumors started swirling about him and four other guys. They started looking into a drug smuggling ring, and these guys always seemed to be around it. But they never could prove anything, and eventually some other guys got busted."

"So these five guys came out of the Service, and all five settled in the Southport area." said Muscone. "And a few months later, the bank robberies started."

"Over time," said Muscone, "the FBI and other law enforcement organizations began to believe that McCovey was not only one of the bank robbery gang, he was the leader. He had money in several bank accounts, and refused to give any explanation for the amounts, which exceeded any income he had as a driver of trucks small enough that he didn't have to have a CDL (commercial drivers license)."

"All the evidence was flimsy, and circumstantial," continued Muscone, "but the D.A. went ahead and brought charges for murder. Then they offered him immunity to give them the other four names of the robbers, telling him they'd abandoned him and he owed them nothing. But he not only refused, he and his lawyer demanded a speedy trial, and got it."