Riverboat Gambler Ch. 01

"The D.A. made a pretty good case," went on Muscone, "but the Jury was skeptical from the start. The prosecutors expected a hung jury and thought they'd be able to work on it some more before retrying it... but the Jury outright acquitted him."

I nodded. "So he's off the hook, except for the Federal bank robbery charges if they could get something on him."

Muscone shook his head. "No. In what I consider to be a colossal fuck-up by the U.S. Attorney in Southport at that time, they went ahead and tried him on the bank robbery charges in Federal Court. And it was a disaster, an absolute disaster. The judge would not allow them to drop the charges without prejudice, so they were forced to press on. And they got whacked: McCovey was acquitted on all charges.

"After that, the bank robberies stopped." went on Muscone. "But we continued to look for the other four perps. We trailed McCovey for a while, but we had to be careful because his lawyer was always watching to try to catch us following him, so he could file a harassment lawsuit. And our guys down here, notably Les Craig, didn't really try to pursue the other four guys, either."

"Hasn't the Statute of Limitations run out by now?" asked Eugene Graham. An excellent observation, I thought to myself.

"It would be," replied Muscone, "except we intend to charge them with murder in the commission of a felony if we can catch them, and there's no Statute of Limitations for murder."

"That'll be an interesting and tricky case in Court itself." I said. "They'd left the scene by the time the murder was committed, if I heard you right. And it'll be an interesting ruling on the Statute of Limitations vs. the murder in the commission of the felony."

"Well," said Muscone, "we'd like to burn those bridges at the right time... when we get the other perps. But getting them has been a nothing-burger. McCovey never associated with anyone that we could find out about. His only contacts with other people were right here on this boat, and that's the next part of the story."

Muscone continued: "About two years after he was acquitted, which is about nine years ago from now, McCovey began coming to the Riverboat Gambler, not too long after it began operating. He played poker in that same room you saw every Friday night, never missing a night that we know of. In fact, he has a standing reservation for that particular room every Friday night. He never did this on the River Rose, as far as we know, only this boat."

"There were always five or six players, and some of them were recurring, but not every week." said Muscone. "We're still getting the IRS and Indian Affairs records, those need warrants, but it looks like McCovey always came out ahead, while the rest had a fairly even fall of the cards, winning a little, losing a little, and so on."

"Was McCovey still driving a truck for a living?" I asked as I perused the file folder for information.

"No," said Muscone. "He never picked that back up after his trials. We have no idea what he did for a living."

"Neither does the Southport Police." said Eugene Graham. "We've never come across him in any Mob-related activities."

"Hmmm." I said. "Okay, can we meet the crew?"

"Sure." said Muscone. "And let's tour the rest of the boat while we're at it."

Part 4 - The Crew

We went aft, down the aisleway, seeing the kitchens that were pretty compact but efficiently designed. At the end of the aisle were steps leading to the lower deck. I went down them to the vestibule.

"This door to my right, to port, must be the double door to the poker rooms." I said. "What's this door to the left?"

"Access to the engine rooms." said a voice. I looked up to see a medium-height blonde man at the top of the stairs with Muscone. The man said "I'm Sigmund Colburn, Captain of the Riverboat Gambler. Call me Sig."

"Ah, good to meet you, Captain." I said, coming up and shaking his hand. "I'm Police Commander Don Troy, on loan to the FBI looking into the unfortunate incident aboard your boat."

"Glad to have you here." said Captain Sig. "Come on to the back bridge." He led the way to the room in the stern. The walls were glass, giving a good view of the River, and there was a console with buttons, radar, and of course a silver metal ship's wheel. And two men.

"We also have a bridge up front." said Captain Sig. "We call it the 'Battle Bridge'. This is the First Officer, Phil Anderson." he said, introducing the older man, who was taller and slender and fit, with brown hair and fairly well trimmed beard.

"And this is the Second Mate, Dave Larsen." said the Captain. "He's in the Merchant Marine Academy, and was on leave or Christmas. He'll be going back to the Academy next week." Larsen was a redhead, darker red than my hair, almost auburn. He had a youngish face, but was very broad-shouldered like me, and I knew he could handle himself in a fight.

We shook hands with both of them. "Let me ask this first." I said. "What are your normal routines on a Friday night cruise? Who is where as you're moving on the water?"

"When we're backing out of the dock, here," said the Captain, "I'm back here driving the boat, and Phil is forward in the 'Battle Bridge', watching out for any problems. Dave is back here with me at that time."

"Once we're underway," continued Sig, "Phil drives the boat from the front and Dave stays back here. I'm meeting and greeting the diners during dinner as I make my way to the front."

"Do you have a Captain's table?" asked Parsons with that dumb look on his face, thinking he was being funny."

"No, we're not that large a boat. This ain't the Love Boat." said the Captain, thinking Parsons had been serious in his question. "I usually just announce that we're underway, make my way towards the front. Once I'm there on the Battle Bridge, we make our way towards Foghorn Island and dock there. Then we hang out on the bridge in back, get some food, and do our maintenance checks until it's time to go home at midnight. And it's the same... I'm always at the end that's leading the boat: in back if we're in reverse, and up front if we're moving forward."

"How long does it take to get from Foghorn Island back to here?" I asked.

"An hour, at least." said the Captain. "Longer if there's bad weather. We're paddling against the currents."

"How dangerous is it?" asked Parsons, injecting himself with an unnecessary question.

"Not very." said the Captain. "The boat is very seaworthy, well balanced, not top-heavy. The engines are top-notch. We do have the paddlewheel, but it's only really effective for backing out of the docks and going downstream. We have a couple of screws underwater that can really propel this boat; that's what gets us home. Also, we follow a specific course, a lot like airplanes do in the air, and we're very aware of other boats that might be in the area."

"So where were all of you when the body was found and the alarm went up?" Martin Nash asked.

"Oh, we were docked by the time the body was found." said Sig. "Most of the people had disembarked. I was forward. Where were you, Phil?"

"Ashore." said the First Officer. "Making sure the boat was tied up properly."

"And you, Dave?" asked Sig.

"I was here, on the bridge." said Dave. "I stayed at my post until the Police took us all to the Police Station for our statements."

"Who controls the cameras around the boat?" I asked, seeing the television monitors along the inside wall of the bridge room.

"Those monitors are to cameras that face outward, so we can see what's around us." said First Officer Phil. The internal cameras in the dining room and the casino rooms are controlled by the Casino Security people."

"Where do you guys sleep, if you do sleep on board?" I asked.

"I do." said the Captain. "My billet is forward of the casino on the lower deck, under the dining room area. A bunk, a desk to do my paperwork. Not large at all."

"I live ashore." said First Officer Phil. "In an apartment above one of the stores on the Dagny Piers."

"My bunk is right outside this room." said Dave. He walked between us and through the door we'd just come in from. There was a space on the other side of the wall, with panels on the right to access the equipment on the other side in the back bridge area. To the left was a double door that looked like a closet.

"This is my closet space." said Dave, opening it up to show... a closet. A few pieces of clothing were hanging from coat hangers, and a duffel bag was lying on the floor along with a couple of pairs of boots and shoes.

At the far end was what looked like a panel in the wall, with a strange-looking handle up top. Dave pulled on it, and a mattress/futon swung down to fill the hallway space. It was a hideaway bed in the wall similar to what could be seen in the Far East, such as Japan, to save space.

"I sleep on this bed." said Dave. "It saves a ton of money while I'm on leave from the Merchant Marine Academy. Whoever they hire to replace me can stay here, or get an apartment on shore."

"Cool beans." I said. "Okay, let's go talk to Security.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Casino Security room was a very small room to the starboard side of the Cashier's windows aft of the main casino. It was all one fortified area, with vaults for the money and chips, a server room for the self-contained computer system that kept track of all the financial (i.e. gambling) transactions and paperwork, and the monitor room, and recording what the videocameras saw.

The Security Chief was a heavy set man with black hair and a thin beard and goatee. He reminded me of 'Penn' of the 'Penn & Teller' magician duo. His mannerisms reminded me of the criminal Paul Branson in the 'Environmental Hazards' case. His real name was William Dotson.

"Yes, we've turned over everything we legally can to the FBI." Dotson was saying as we sat in the main casino room. "We can't give your the IRS papers without a warrant, but we've provided all the video footage we have from that last night's cruise."

"And we appreciate the cooperation." said Muscone. "Nash, we've applied for the warrant for the IRS information, haven't we?"

"Parsons said he did." said Nash.

"You might want to check behind him and make sure that happened." I said. "And yes, I mean what I am implying in saying that."

Muscone grinned. "I don't think much of them, either. Nash, go do that. Check on all the warrants we should be getting, and make sure we've got all the data turned over to us in our servers and available for Commander Troy's access." Nash left the room.

"Mr. Dotson," I said, "did you notice anything out of the ordinary on your video cameras that evening?"

"No sir." said Dotson, with a little half-smile that was going to irritate me before all was said and done. "I watched the video of people coming out of the poker areas after they were shut down and we were docking. No one was carrying anything, except for a couple of women carrying small purses. Certainly nothing that could've beaten a man's head in."

"How do you know his head was beaten in?" asked Muscone.

"When someone found the man's body, they called me back there." said Dotson. "I'm the one that called 9-1-1 to get the Police here. I asked for an ambulance, too, but he was pretty obviously dead. And the reason why was pretty obvious, too."

"And you saw nothing that might've been the murder weapon lying around?" I asked.

"No." said Dotson.

"Who found the body?" I asked.

"One of the cleaning crew." said Dotson. "They go in and start collecting trash as soon as everyone leaves the poker rooms, and then they vacuum the floors. Obviously that was curtailed last night. The door to the stateroom was half open, and one of the crew looked inside and saw the body on the floor. She screamed, and then all hell broke loose."

Part 5 - Tedium

Jerome, Eugene, and I were at a table in the Dining Room near the front, where the wifi reception was best. We were tapping away at our laptops. Jack Muscone was at the next table, sending texts and emails on his laptop.

"We're now in that phase of Police work that is the most boring, but the most important." I said. "Data harvesting."

"What are we looking for, sir?" asked Jerome.

"I'm checking what they've found on McCovey." I said. "And then I'm going to look at his financial transactions at the cashier's window. When the IRS data comes in, I'll be looking at that, too."

"Where are you getting the cashier's window transactions?" asked Muscone.

"Bureau of Indian Affairs." I said. "We can't get the IRS forms, but the raw data was kept by the Reservation's casino, and was transmitted to the Bureau of Indian Affairs. They've kept every bit of it, and we're not needing a warrant to access it."

"Great!" said Muscone. "Finding anything?"

"Maybe." I said. "By the way, Jerome, what are you looking at?"

"I'm trying to get the names of those guys in McCovey's military unit" said Jerome.

"I'll send you that." said Muscone. A moment later, Jerome's computer (and smartphone) chirped with an email.

"Okay," said Jerome. "Jace McAllen, Dave Dunn, Carl Clovis, Devon Schlussel. Clovis is black like me. Schlussel is blonde, Germanic, kind of nerdy looking with the octagonal glasses. Dunn looks to be a little older than the rest. McAllen looks like he could've been a Navy SEAL: well-built, youngish, handsome. Looks a bit like Nash in the face, with that black hair and all."

I suppressed a grin at the description as I looked at the same information, which Jack had sent me as well as Jerome, as Jerome continued: "McAllen is from upstate New York. Dunn is from California; Clovis, from Memphis, Tennessee; and Schlussel from western Pennsylvania. McCovey, by the way, is from up the road. Jacksonville. His father was a prison guard at Jacksonville State Prison."

"So they're from all over the place." I said. "What are you looking at, Eugene?"

"I sent the names of everyone on the ship's manifest for last night to SPD Headquarters." said Eugene. "They're running checks on every person aboard, to see if any criminal names come up. I don't see the names of those four that were in the military with McCovey, though. I'm also looking at video footage."

"Did they take footage of the Dining Room during dinner?" I asked.

"Just one camera, which is stationed near the aisle to the kitchens and the bridge areas." said Eugene. "It's angled to show anyone that might be walking back into there, so I can't see a lot of the dining room itself."

"See if you can see who McCovey is having dinner with." I said.

"We got that from interviewing the crew and other patrons." said Eugene. "McCovey sat alone at his dining table. He was almost always alone at dinner."

"Okay." I said. "And do we know who the other players at McCovey's poker table were?"

"I'm working on that now." said Jack Muscone. "There were no written records of who was in which poker room---"

Just then, Martin Nash came in the door from the deck, followed by Andrew Parsons. Their faces were both flushed with anger. "What the hell is the big frickin' deal about it?" Parsons was saying.

"Jack," said Martin coming up to Muscone. "Parsons and Rovers have the IRS data on McCovey and the records from the boat. But no one has obtained a warrant for that information, nor even asked for one."

"What?!" exclaimed Muscone, looking harshly at Parsons.

"We've asked for the warrant, and we went ahead and got the information." said Parsons. "It's routine, everyone does it all the time."

"Well!" I said, closing my laptop by slamming the top down hard. "Jerome, you and I might as well go home now."

"Why?" asked Eugene.

"We're officially wasting our time." I said. "Even if we get the perp that did this, we have no case. It'll be thrown out as soon as the judge finds out the IRS data was illegally obtained."

"And how is he going to find out?" growled Parsons.

"Because I will tell him myself." I shot back, getting out of my chair and confronting Parsons.

"What? Whose fucking side are you on?" yelled Parsons.

"The Constitution's side." I said. "Which you should be on, too, if you're an FBI Agent and not---"

"The Constitution is just a God-damned piece of paper!" yelled Parsons.

"And you will follow what's written on that piece of paper to the letter!" I fired back.

"Hold on, hold on." said Muscone, getting up. "Nash, go get a warrant to get the IRS data. No one touch any IRS data already accessed until we get that warrant. Parsons, let's go outside."

They went out on deck. The voices were loud and heated enough that I could hear them?"

"Who the fuck does he think he is?" yelled Parsons. "He shouldn't even be here! This is our case!"

"No, it's my case and I want him here." Muscone yelled back. "He's right about the warrant, and he's a damn sight better Detective than you will ever be! Now get your head out of your goddamn ass, and go do your job... properly!"

A few minutes later, Muscone came in, his face red, and black lightning shooting out of his beady black eyes.

"You take him off the case?" I asked.

"No." said Muscone. Then, seeing my look at him, he said "I can't. I'd kick him to the kerb right now, but the EAD personally put him and Rovers on the case."

I peered at Muscone for a moment, then went into a reverie...

Part 6 - Data

We got the warrant for the IRS information just before noon. I began going through McCovey's information.

"Okay, no reported income other than gambling winnings." I said. "And he really didn't need anything else. He was clearing three thousand dollar per month. Just from playing poker."

"I am in the wrong line of business." said Eugene Graham.

"McCovey did not have any credit cards, no debt in his name anywhere at all." I said. "There's a Ford Explorer Sport Trac in his name, but that's the only car he owned as of his death. You getting anything about the ownership of the boat, Eugene?"

I'd asked Eugene to begin checking out the boat's ownership, and see if there were any Mob ties. Eugene said "Not much. Jimmy 'The Creek' DeAngelo was never part of the Cerone Organization, and he has no ties to Orrin B. Taggert that Southport P.D. knows about. As Southport's biggest bookmaker, I'm sure he was paying Cerone a few dollar bills to be left alone, maybe for protection, too."

"But his casino operations flow through the Indian Reservation." Eugene continued. "And they always have, ever since he bought the boats and put them in operation. We're getting all that financial data now, but several IRS and Bureau of Indian Affairs audits have found everything scrupulously in order, right down to the penny."

"Any idea who his financial backing was when he first started the casino boats?" I asked.

"City and Counties Bank was a big one." said Eugene. "The Reservation also spotted him a loan, and the paperwork behind that is a big tangle; I'd bet someone was funneling money through the Reservation and had the paperwork snarled up to keep from being identified."

"Hmmm, interesting." I said.

"You think that has anything to do with this murder?" Muscone asked.

"No idea... yet." I replied. "But it ties in with the other interesting data we are finding. Okay, Jerome, you got any more yet?"

"Yes sir." said Jerome. "I ran the four names of McCovey's Army buddies. There are some spotty records until about ten years ago, and then they all went off the grid. All four of them, at pretty much the same time. Not a single record in any of their names since."

"And what do we deduce from that, Detective Davis?" I asked.

"They all changed their names at the same time." said Davis.

"Excellent!" I said sarcastically, with a grin. "Seriously, why would they do that?"