the mountain approach road. And it was just too much of a coincidence. So how come Milan - who had definitely been on the alert for unfriendly visitors and suspicious activities for as long as Santeson had been with him - how come he wasn't up and about, checking things out for himself?Or was he simply unaware that there was a problem ... ?The trouble with Milan's goons was that they had insufficient grey matter between them to realize they should at least be doing something, if it was only to let their dodgy employer know what was happening here. This was Santeson's opinion, anyway, which seemed borne out by the dumb, unswerving obstinacy of the pair.
Normally he would have been able to contact Milan by telephone; the photophobic, night-dwelling boss of the resort would usually accept calls through the dark hours from four-thirty or five in the evening until nine in the morning, but not tonight And when Santeson had tried to impress something of the urgency of an audience with Milan upon his watchdogs - the fact that he must see him, that his information was of the utmost importance - it had seemed to him that they couldn't care less! He'd simply been informed of Mr Milan's instructions: that he wasn't to be disturbed under any circumstance until 6:30 at the earliest And that had been that. But now, with the time approaching 6:00 p.m. and the resort already dark, cooling under the swift onset of a Tropic of Capricorn night, Santeson was determined to have his way.
He had last tried to call Milan just ten minutes ago from the deserted booth at the monorail boarding stage close to the casino's entrance ... but the phone had only buzzed annoyingly at him, because by then there had been no receptionist to transfer the call! And now Santeson was very angry, for as the minutes had stretched into hours his sense of urgency - the anxious frustration of knowing that while something was definitely and dangerously out of kilter here, still there was nothing he could do about it - had increased in commensurate degree.
Garth Santeson had his own ideas as to what was happening or about to happen; it seemed obvious to him that the long arm of the law was reaching for Milan, and his oh-so-shady employer was about to get himself arrested (probably for skimming casino profits); in which case Santeson's monthly and more than adequate pay cheque would disappear with him. It therefore followed that the longer he kept the boss out of trouble, the better his chances of collecting his next cheque, due in a few days' time. Which in turn meant he must speak to Milan about the people he had seen on the approach road, at least two of which he'd recognized from the party that had flown in a few days ago in those paramilitary jet-copters.Santeson knew where Milan was - his approximate location, anyway - but couldn't get to him. On any ordinary night Milan might be found in the casino for an hour or two, but much preferred the privacy of his rooms in the solar-panelled bubble on top of the dome (which on rare occasions he would also use during daylight hours). Santeson had a special elevator key, given him by Milan, which would take him to those topmost rooms when he was summoned into the man's presence. But generally, during the day, Aristotle Milan stayed well out of sight, down in the subterranean bowels of the place. Santeson understood that his employer had private apartments down there, to which he wasn't and never had been privy. To his knowledge, only Milan's goons had ever got that close - - Well, until tonight, anyway ...
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
... Before The StormIt was almost as dark inside the casino when Santeson re-entered the place. Some electrical failure, which had taken out most of the lights, and no one left to fix it. But even if it was black as night in there he would know where to find Milan's minders.Surrounding the Pleasure Dome's central spindle, six elevators formed a hexagonal tube of glass and stainless steel. Four of these serviced the casino's upper levels, excluding Milan's bubble. The fifth was for the use of casino personnel only and gave access to the basement and the almost literally bomb-proof Fort Knox-like accountancy vaults. As