Wells hadn’t been a success in the vault. This was understandable. The work was exacting and had to be done at high speed. Maria just hadn’t the experience. Rita quailed at the thought of having her on this Saturday night when the pressure would be on. She just had to have Lana Evans back on the job.
What could have happened to the girl? she wondered as she replaced the receiver. She had a couple of hours to spare and she decided to drive over and find out for herself.
Mrs. Mavdick owned the apartment block. She was a large woman with jet-black dyed hair and an enormous floppy bosom which she held together under her soiled cotton wrap.
She regarded Rita’s trim figure with disapproval. Those firm breasts, that flat stomach, the long shapely legs were to Mrs.
Mavdick the symbols of sin.
“She’s on the third floor,” she said. “Seen her? No… I’ve things to do. I don’t see people unless they come to see me. What’s the excitement about?”
“There’s no excitement. I have tried to contact her on the telephone… she doesn’t answer.”
Mrs. Mavdick thumped her floppy bosom. She had difficulty in breathing.
“Well, you don’t have to answer the phone, do you?”
Rita climbed the stairs and rang Lana’s front-door bell. She saw a bottle of milk and a copy of the Paradise City Herald by the door. She waited, rang again, then with a feeling of frustration, she descended the stairs.
Mrs. Mavdick was still propping her gross body against her door.
“She isn’t there,” Rita said.
Mrs. Mavdick smirked. Her long, yellow teeth made her look like a cunning horse.
“Well… we’re only young once,” she said, fighting for her breath. “Girls like boys… it’s not my business… I never worry when my folk aren’t at home.”
Rita regarded her with disgust and then went out into the hot sunshine to her car,
Detective 2nd Grade Tom Lepski was considered to be the toughest officer attached to the Paradise City police force. He was tall, wiry, with a lined, sun-tanned hawklike face and ice- blue eyes. He was not only tough, he was also ambitious.
At seven o’clock, he strode into the station house wearing a sharp-looking tuxedo, a blood-red bow tie and his shoes were of black reverse calf.
Charlie Tanner gaped at him.
“Well, drop me down a well!” he exclaimed. “If it isn’t our Tom, got up like a goddam movie star!”
Lepski adjusted his bow tie. There was a smirk of satisfaction on his lean face.
“What’s wrong with being a movie star? Let me tell you something, Charlie… if Hollywood could see me now!”
Charlie Tanner paused his thick lips and made a loud, rude noise. “If Hollywood saw you now, they would give up making movies. What’s the big idea?”
“You ask the Chief… if he wants you to know, he will tell you… perhaps,” and with a jaunty stride, Lepski went through the charge room and up the stairs to Terrell’s office.
Here Terrell and Beigler regarded him, careful not to show their startled surprise.
“Reporting, sir,” Lepski said, his lean face dead pan. “I’m taking four men to the Casino right away. Any orders, sir?”
Terrell’s fleshy face creased into a grin.
“Does you credit, Tom. That’s a nice outfit you’ve got there.”
“Very fancy,” Beigler said. “Do you own it or have you rented it?”
Lepski stiffened and Terrell said quickly, “Who cares? Okay, Tom, watch it. Are you wearing a gun?”
Lepski gave Beigler a sour look, then nodded.
“Yes, sir.”
“Lewis seems to expect trouble. I don’t know why, but keep circulating. There’s a lot of money in the Casino tonight.”
“I’ll take care of it, sir.”
“Okay. I’ll be here until midnight. Joe will be here all night. If anything starts… I guess I don’t have to tell you what to do.”
Lepski nodded.
“I’ll take care of it, sir.”
“And listen, Tom,” Beigler said, “just because you are wearing that monkey suit, don’t imagine you are one of those rich slobs who are trying to enjoy themselves. Keep off drink and away from the girls. Get it?”
Lepski again nodded.
“Yes, Sergeant.”
“And take that James Bond look off your face. You’re a cop, and you have a job to do,” Beigler said.
“Yes, Sergeant,” Lepski said, his face dead pan.
“Okay, Tom,” Terrell said. “Get off. I hope we won’t be hearing from you.”
“Yes, sir,” Lepski said and walked out of the office. He stabbed a finger at the door when he had shut it, and then walked down to where Charlie Tanner was handing over to another sergeant.
Tanner said, “I bet Joe loved you, dressed up like that.”
“He did,” Lepski said. He shot his cuffs, flicked at his tie and, leaving Tanner gaping with admiration, he walked down to the waiting police car.
At midnight, Harry Lewis locked away the papers on his desk, lit a cigar, and left his office. His secretary had gone home a few minutes before. Now, he could concentrate on the activities in the gambling hall. He would remain, moving around on the first floor until three a.m., before going back to his luxury villa. He took the elevator down to the first floor.
So far, the evening had been uneventful. The gambling had begun at ten-thirty. Every fifteen minutes, Lewis received reports from the croupiers. As was expected, the gambling had been high and reckless. So far the Casino was ahead, but there was a syndicate of Brazilians who could be troublesome. Lewis decided it was time he went down and watched the play.
As he wandered into the gambling hall, he spotted Lepski, his alert ice-blue eyes surveying the scene.
Lewis went over to him.
“Glad you are here, Tom,” he said, shaking hands. “How is Carroll?”
Carroll Mayhew was Lepski’s fiancee. They were hoping to get married at the end of the year, and Lepski felt certain Lewis would donate a handsome wedding present.
“Fine, sir,” he said. “No trouble there. No trouble here. These guys are certainly tossing their money around.”
“Well… if you have, you toss it… if you haven’t, you shouldn’t,” Lewis said and smiled. “Your men around?”
“On the terrace, sir. They have instructions to wander in every ten minutes. You wouldn’t want a bunch of flatfeet in here all the time.”
Lewis laughed.
“I’ll leave it to you, Toni. Just keep an eye on the money,” and nodding he walked on.
There’s a guy, Lepski thought. A real, nice, regular guy. He straightened his bow tie which was worrying him, then he went out on to the terrace where his four patrolmen were standing watchfully in obscure corners.
He wasn’t to know he was wasting their and his time. When the attack was to come, it would come in the soft underbelly of the Casino — in the vault where no police officer was on guard.
The money passing across the green-baize tables was as nothing compared to the money steadily piling up in the vault. The gamblers were having a bad night. The money was flowing into the Casino’s vault… thousands and thousands of dollars.
In the cool atmosphere of the vault Rita Watkins directed the operation of handling the in-and-out flow of the money.
The girls fed the stacks of money as the money came from the elevators into an electronic device that automatically sorted the bills into their various denominations. The machine then counted them, clocking the total
