Las Vegas Gold by Jim Newell Page A

in particular. “I see no point in involving the Commissioner’s Office at this time. The first thing is to find out who is threatening this man O’Hara and how we can stop it. I’m afraid the FBI will have to be brought in to do it because it’s an interstate matter, involving a death threat.”
    â€œThey’ll discover the gambling, won’t they?” asked Mike.
    â€œMaybe. Maybe not. They can say they got him to throw games, but it’s pretty difficult to prove. His word against theirs, and they have obviously committed a crime—several crimes: offers of bribery, conspiracy to commit fraud against Major League baseball, conspiracy to commit murder, probably others we don’t know about. If they try to prove he did throw games, they’re looking at another serious crime for which they can be charged.” “So what are you saying?” Molly asked.
    â€œHow strong a man is O’Hara?” Halverson was obviously not a baseball fan.
    Molly told him the story of Tabby’s rough early life, his first years as a player with a surly reputation, and the metamorphosis she and the coaches had been able to bring about so far this season. “So,” she concluded, “I believe if he is approached the right way, he can be very strong.”
    â€œIt seems to me,” threw in Henderson, “you are the one to approach and guide him through this mess, Molly. He obviously trusts you.”
    Halverson nodded. “I agree.”
    Molly sighed. “Yeah. You’re probably right, but it is definitely not going to be easy. I’m going to have to involve Kenny as far as is necessary concerning the threats and the FBI, and he’s going to have to take a whole lot more responsibility for the day-to-day operations of the team. I’m going to have my hands full just looking after Tabby until we get this business settled, one way or the other.”
    â€œJust be careful, honey, how much you involve them. The less anyone else knows, the less chance there is for some reporter to go digging on his own.” Mike was obviously concerned for his daughter.
    â€œOkay then, I will call in the FBI this evening and tell them what I think they should know.” Halverson sat with his chin resting on his palm, elbow on the table, obviously thinking as he spoke. “I think we should all be here so everyone gets the story straight. Let’s say ten tomorrow. That okay?”
    â€œThey’re going to want to talk to Tabby first thing. I’ll get him in a couple of hours earlier and brief him on what we’ve decided,” Molly said. “That gives me tonight to get my story straight for him.” She got up from the table and the men rose in courtesy. “Thank you for your help, George. I’ll see you all in the morning.” She left the room, all five feet three inches of her showing in body language that she was feeling the pressure.
    It took Molly a couple of hours to track Tabby down. She found him at home, on her second call there, about ten minutes after he had come in, gave him a brief outline of what had taken place in her father’s office, and instructed him to be in her office at eight the next morning. Tabby was quite shaken and taken aback by her call. He wanted to know exactly how much she had told the meeting. “You promised you could keep a secret,” he accused her.
    â€œTabby, trust me on this. Just trust me. You’re going to be all right. You’re going to be safe, and you’re going to come out of it smelling like a rose. Just trust me. Come in by eight o’clock and we’ll get into what’s happening. Okay?”
    â€œOkay.” He sighed a big sigh. There seemed to be a lot of sighing going around, thought Molly. “I’ll be there,” and he hung up without saying anything else.
    â€œI hope,” Molly said out loud to the empty office, “I hope I can deliver on that