For both Dido and Trish, the ten-hour flight was just so different from any other flight that they’d ever taken. From the glass of bubbly that was kept topped up to the choices of food and its availability whenever they wanted it, and not when the flight attendants decided that it was meal time.

Their second shock of the day came when they arrived in Vegas. As soon as they came up the air bridge from the Boeing 777 and into the terminal, they found rows of slot machines. Sin City was living up to its name right from the start.

Gambling was everywhere. It took both of them by surprise. There were even ‘slots’ in the taxi that they took to their hotel, provided you had a credit card.

“I didn’t expect it to be so ‘full-on’,” said Dido when they finally reached their hotel room.

“Me neither. It is a bit of a shock.”

“Fancy a flutter?”

“What? It is after three in the morning, according to my body clock,” complained Trish.

“So? The sooner we get adjusted to the local time, the better. Besides, who spent several hours knocking back the Z’s on the flight?”

Trish shook her head.
“Let me freshen up and put a brush through my hair, and we can go and see what’s what.”

“Good idea.”

Twenty minutes later, the couple walked out onto the casino floor. It was a hive of activity. Trish thought that this was rather strange until she looked at her phone. To her, this was a den of iniquity. Everything was designed to separate the punter from their money. To the casino, time was nothing. The longer the punter played, the more the house won. That was why she failed miserably to find a clock or even a window into the outside world.

“Where shall we start?” asked Trish.
“I don’t want to lose too much money.”

“I fancy some Blackjack,” said Dido.

“Have you ever played before?”

“No, but I watched some videos on YouTube over the weekend.”

Dido saw the concern in Trish’s eyes.
“Don’t worry, darling, I’m not going to risk the crown jewels…”

For a second, there was silence between them.
“I don’t have them to give away now, do I?”

Trish finally saw the funny side.
“Ok. I guess my job is to keep you on a short leash, then?”

“Not too short, I hope?”

Trish didn’t argue. She was going to have her work cut out, keeping Dido in check.

Dido obtained $200 worth of chips and sat down at a blackjack table. Trish stood behind her, acting as a keen observer and also to keep off the lounge leeches should, by some chance, Dido win even one hand. She had also been watching videos about the dangers of going to Vegas over the weekend.

At first, Dido bet small amounts, never more than $10 and lost every time. On about the tenth deal, Dido put down a $20 chip. Two cards were dealt. After a brief look at them, Dido said,

“I’ll stand.”

Trish was worried. Dido did not appear to have ‘Blackjack’.

The dealers’ cards were a seven and an eight. She could not stand a payout to anyone who could beat 15. She had to be at least 17 to do that.

Without flinching, the dealer took another card. A ‘4’. That made ‘19’.
“Dealer stands. Pays 20 and above.”

Dido turned over a 10 and a Jack for a total of 20. She’d won that hand.

The dealer pushed over $30 of chips towards Dido.

Dido left them alone. That would be her bet for the next deal.

She won that deal and the following three by letting the winnings ride. She now had $150 worth of chips in front of her.

Dido turned to Trish.
“Last hand.”

Once again, she let her bet of winnings stay put.

This time, Dido was dealt an ace and a king. Blackjack. Now she had $400.

After gathering up her chips, she slid a $20 chip over to the dealer. A slightly bemused Trish followed Dido back to their room.

“What just happened?”

“I won. I was prepared to lose ten dollars on twenty deals. If I lost on every deal, then I would walk away. I didn’t, and we are well up on the day.”

“It can’t be as simple as that?”

“It isn’t. The thing I learned from the Internet was that you have a limit to your losses. Reach that and walk away. The tables will still be here tomorrow.”

Trish shook her head.
“I’m not sure if I could have the self-discipline to do that.”

Dido smiled.
“I was not sure if I could do it either. I had to try.”

“I’m going to get some sleep. What time is breakfast served?”

“All day, every day. This place never sleeps, remember…”

“This place is going to take some getting used to.”

After a pretty tasteless breakfast and very watery coffee by their tastes, the couple took a cab to the offices in North Vegas of the lawyer who had represented Dido’s father at his trial. Dido had arranged a meeting before going to the parole board the next day.

“Mr Pruitt, nice to put a face to a voice,” said Dido cheerily as they met.

“Ms Pleasance, thank you for coming. I was in contact with the man you claim is your father, and he denies ever having a daughter.”

Dido was prepared for this.

“Please watch this.”

Dido pulled out her laptop and showed the lawyer the video of her first statement. Trish watched the lawyer. His facial colour told her that it was a shock.

“Then there is this,” said Dido, producing one of the articles about the conviction of Fox that had appeared in the Sunday Newspapers.

“I am one of the victims of this man.”

Mr Pruitt read the article slowly.

“What do you intend to do at the hearing?”

“I intend to show the board what sort of man he is. My lawyer in the UK has sent a copy of the video to the State Department representative at the US Embassy in London. I hope that the board will refuse parole and that the State Department or whoever it is will revoke his US Citizenship and deport him back to the UK, where he will stand trial for what he did to me. My colleague here is a serving Police Officer who can back me up on that and the likely charges that he and my mother will face. You might not be aware of this, but we don’t have the concept of a statute of limitations in UK law.”

The lawyer read the article again.

“This is all a surprise and not one that I can go along with. I am a public defender, as you know. My interests are those of my client, your father.”

“I agree that it is in your interest. Surely, protecting the other citizens of this great city is also of prime importance to you as an officer of the court. Keep him off the streets until the politicians can get their act together, and then deport him to the UK. I’m willing to guess that he lied on his citizenship application. That should be enough to disqualify him. Once that comes into play, he is not your problem. It is a federal matter, and he’d need a lawyer who is an expert in that part of the law.”

“You seem very well briefed on this subject?” asked Mr Pruitt.

“We are both criminology students in London. My dissertation for the degree will be on international law and how it differs between the major nations of the world. I have spent a lot of the summer reading up on US Citizenship and the terms under which it can be revoked.”

That was a bare-faced lie. But as ever, Dido was a convincing liar, especially when it came to people who could not easily prove her wrong. Trish watched her in awe. This man was no match for her lover.

Mr Pruitt shook his head. Trish sat quietly, biting her cheek. This was a new Dido. She was amazed at how easily Dido could switch from victim to aggressor. She’d known for a long time that Dido was mentally tough as nails, but this was the first time that she’d seen it in action. Because of the possibility of her being called as a witness in the Fox trial, she had not watched any of the proceedings in person. The media reporting had given her a great write-up, but seeing her in action reminded her of Fox himself when in court. She’d learned how to face down people from a master.

“Mr Pruitt, there is another option. I could recommend that he be released in return for some information.”

“I’m listening.”

“My father was a criminal for years, before coming across the Atlantic Ocean. He would send me onto the local boardwalk, and I would pick the pockets of the tourists. He trained me in the art of the dip. In my day, I was one of the best in London, and probably still am. Unlike him, I have never been caught, but that is all in the past. As well as dipping, my dear father was what I think you call a stickup artist. He would rob businesses and flee. On his last two jobs, he used cars that were not stolen locally but from more than one hundred miles away in another city. The cars were surgically cleaned inside and out before being given a local license plate. We want to know who supplied those cars. This information may lead to the apprehension of a gang that is known to have gang raped and sodomised at least eight women in the past five years. A good friend of ours was one of those women. My father is a total bastard for selling me to paedophiles, but I am willing to forgive him at least a tiny bit if he can help us out here.”

Mr Pruitt didn’t say anything for well over a minute. He was scribbling furiously on a yellow legal pad.

“That is a fine story. As I said, my client denies that he has a daughter.”

Dido smiled.
“Just show him this,” she said, rolling up the sleeve of her top.

“This is where his pet rottweiler-pit bull cross dog named ‘Savage’ took a chunk out of me. The cops took the dog away when DNA testing showed that it was more Pit Bull than anything else. In case you don’t know, the UK has laws about dangerous dogs. The ‘Dangerous Dogs Act’ of 1991 makes it illegal to own dogs that were bred for fighting, and Savage was a six-match veteran of illegal fights before he was taken away and put down. My father was prosecuted under that act and received 200 hours of community service, which he served picking up litter on Southend beach. All that should be enough to convince him that I am his offspring.”

Pruitt wrote everything down on the pad.

“Please take a photo of it and show him. That should persuade him that I am who I say I am.”

Pruitt took the photo but didn’t look happy at being bossed around by this woman who appeared to know as much about the law as he did.

“We will be visiting him on Thursday. As I understand it, the parole hearing is set for Friday. If he cooperates, then we are out of here. If not, then I’ll tell them what sort of person he is. I have evidence of what I have told you to back up my story. Please go ahead and show him the photo of this wound. It may jog his memory.”

“I will see what he says. Where are you staying?”

“At the MGM Grand. They can pass a message to me.”

Dido stood up.
“Remember… Thursday, we will be visiting him. It does not matter to me if you are there or not.”

“I’ll make sure that he gets your message.”

Outside, Dido leaned against the wall of the office building. Trish took her hands and said,
“You put your point across perfectly. No threats to Pruitt, but plenty towards your father.”

“Thanks, darling.”

Dido hugged her partner. There was only so much stress that she could take at any one time, and with the recent trauma of being in the witness box, she knew that she was near breaking point. The last thing she wanted was for a PTSD episode to mar her trip to Vegas. This was one of the reasons John had suggested bringing Trish with her. Dido hadn’t been keen at first, but after he explained what hints he’d seen in court, he was sure that Dido was nearing breaking point and coming face to face with her father could send her over the edge. John was the only person on the planet that Dido could trust implicitly. He had earned that trust over many years.

“Come on, let’s get out of this heat. I could do with a swim,” suggested Trish.

“Good idea.”

A message was sent to the Hotel late that afternoon from Mr Pruitt. Dido and Trish were out enjoying the sights, but to Trish, once you had seen one casino, you had seen them all. Dido had a little flutter in several of them but didn’t win anything more than a couple of dollars.

“Beginner’s luck?” remarked Trish.

“Probably, but those cards in the last but one place were marked.”

“Dido!”

“They were, and it wasn’t hard to spot them.”

Trish shook her head and tightened her grip on Dido’s hand.

“Don’t worry, darling, I’m not going to lose my shirt on the tables. We are here to do a job.”

“I hope so. Do a job, I mean?” said Trish.

Then, out of the blue, Dido said,

“Why don’t we get married?”

Trish stopped dead in her tracks and looked at Dido, who was grinning like the proverbial Cheshire Cat.

“Are you serious?”

“I am. We could do it here before we fly home.”

Dido held Trish tight for a long time.

When they broke apart, Trish asked,
“Answer me one thing. Have you been speaking to John about this?”

Dido shook her head and did a ‘zipped mouth’ action.

Trish was in deep thought as they walked along the strip. She hardly noticed Dido steering them into a shopping mall.

It was only when they stopped outside a jewellery store that Trish took notice of where they were.

“You were serious, weren’t you?”

“Deadly,” replied Dido.

“What about the course?” asked Trish.

“We would carry on as before. None of those losers at university needs to know anything about this. I’m sure that I’ll be the hero of the day we get back and, from then on, the villain, as I’m pretty sure that Professor Montague Wilkinson will be taking Fox’s classes. He is not as cunning as Fox but is a bastard all the same. I had it on good authority that he marks coursework even tougher than Fox, but is less inclined to fly off the rails like Fox. The evidence and testimony that I gave at the Bailey will mean less than nothing to him. All he’ll see is someone going against one of their own, and anyone associated with me is in for a rough time.”

“That is a very downbeat assessment, darling?”

“Isn’t it better to look on the dark side of life, and when a few bits turn out nice, then you are on a winner…”

Trish laughed.
“Don’t go all Monty Python on me!”

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“Doh! Their song ‘Always Look on the Bright Side of Life’. You took it and reversed it. That’s all?”

“I can’t even begin to comment on that one,” said Dido, smiling.
“But I will say this. We, my darling, as we all know, are the outsiders of the class. With my testimony being in the public domain, I fully expect to get a hard time from his fans in both the student population and the faculty. My secret is out there for all to see, and I fully expect to be the subject of ridicule for not having a ‘you know what’ or being a fake woman.”

“How…? How can you be so blasé?”

“It is all down to John. When he laid out his plan for me to expose Fox in court, it was clear that to be successful, I’d have to come clean about my role, such as it was. I spent more than two months with my therapist talking over this very thing. When I finally said ‘Yes, I’ll do it’ to John, I was fully aware of the risks, especially with the media. Back then, social media was not the force it is now, but once it grew in influence, I grew to accept that I would face a lot of slander and defamation from social media as well as conventional Media.”

“What did I say? Blasé?”

“No, my darling. Just me being prepared as much as I can for what is likely to happen. That is John Proudfoot through and through, isn’t it?”

“That’s very true,” said Trish.

There was a silence between them that was only broken by Dido saying,

“I take it that you don’t want to get hitched?”

“I do, but it is not just me I have to think about.”

“You mean your Mam?”

Trish nodded her head.

“She would never speak to me again if I returned from Sin City with a wedding ring on my finger.”

Dido responded by giving Trish a long kiss.

“I will keep trying, you know?”

Trish grinned.
“And one day, I will say yes. We make a good team, don’t we?”

Dido smiled.
“I knew it from that very first day when we went for coffee. It did not matter that you are a cop and I have a less-than-stellar history, allegedly.”

This time, Trish laughed. She knew that Dido’s past was very shady, but that was not the Dido that she’d come to know and love with all her heart.

[to be continued]