onlookers were packed six deep behind the players, straining to see the action. Nothing spread faster through a casino than word of a craps shooter on absolute fire.
Milton glanced over at the pit boss and said, “Do you feel lucky? Because I do.”
Before the stunned man could reply Milton let the dice fly. The two cubes rolled down the felt, neatly missing all stacked chips on the table and bouncing off the far rail.
There was a moment of intense calm and then a collective scream audible around the casino erupted as the double sixes came to rest face up. Milton Farb had just won thirty grand and nearly doubled his take to $65,000. The guy beside him was whooping and pounding him on the back. The next words out of Milton’s mouth caused the cheers to be replaced with groans of disbelief.
“I’m cashing out,” he said to his croupier.
The sea of faces around the rail would have looked far more appropriate at a funeral or plane crash site.
“Let it ride,” one man screamed. “You are smoking hot. Let it ride.”
“This is paying off my kids’ college tuition,” yelled another.
Milton said, “I’m smarter than I am lucky. I know when to stop.”
This bit of truth never goes over well in a casino.
“Screw you,” a big man exclaimed as he strode up to Milton and put a meaty paw on his shoulder. “You keep rolling that dice, you hear me, you little prick? I’ve been losing all night until you came along. Keep rolling, you hear me!”
“He heard you,” a voice said as a far bigger hand was placed on the man’s shoulder, jerking him backward.
“What the hell,” the man spat out, whirling around with fists balled. He stared up into the face of the towering Reuben Rhodes, who snatched the stick off the table and held it up.
Reuben said, “The man’s done playing, so I suggest you let him collect his chips and go on his way, before I take this stick and ram it right up your fat ass.”
CHAPTER 32
LATER, OVER A DRINK in a bar, Reuben scolded Milton. “Dammit, first blackjack and now craps. I told you to blend in, Milton, not stick out. You’re making our job a lot harder by turning into a casino shark.”
Milton looked chastened. “I’m sorry, Reuben, you’re right, of course. I guess I got carried away. It won’t happen again.”
“And exactly how are you going to get your cash without revealing who you are? When you win big in a casino you have to fill out tax paperwork with your name, address and Social Security number. You want Bagger to have that info?”
“I read about that requirement, Reuben. I’m going to use a fake ID. They won’t know the difference.”
“What if they run the ID from here on some database?”
“My ID shows me to be a citizen of Great Britain; the U.S. has no taxing authority over me. And I highly doubt the casino is linked to any database in England.”
Sufficiently mollified, Reuben explained to Milton what he had learned from Angie.
“So if we can pin those crimes on Bagger, Susan will be home free,” Milton said.
“Easier said than done. A guy like Bagger knows how to cover his tracks.”
“Well, maybe I can start uncovering them.”
“How?”
“Oliver told us about this Anthony Wallace. Bagger found out about him and nearly killed him. Well,
“I don’t know.”
“I know it’s late but call Oliver and Susan. Ask her for any information about Wallace that she can think of. Where he was staying, doing, that sort of thing.”
Reuben made the call and then turned back to his friend.
“Oliver woke her up and asked her. Wallace was staying in the hotel right across the street from the Pompeii. He was using an alias, Robby Thomas, from Michigan. Five-eight, slender, dark hair, a real cute-boy type. He was staying in a room with a direct sight line onto Bagger’s office.”
“That’s what I needed to know.” Milton rose.
“Where are you going?” Reuben asked.
“Across the street. Because the probabilities are that Bagger figured out Wallace was spying on him. If so, he’d want to check it out. So that’s what I’m going to do.”
“How?”
“I haven’t been hanging around Susan for nothing. Sit tight.”
Milton’s nimble mind worked out the details on the way across the street.
At the front desk of the hotel he said, “I’m looking for a Mr. Robert Thomas. He goes by Robby. He’s supposed to be staying at this hotel. Could you ring his room for me?”
After a quick check on the computer the clerk shook his head. “We don’t have a guest by that name.”
Milton displayed a confused look. “That’s very odd. He and my son went to Michigan together. We were supposed to have dinner together.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Could I have gotten the date wrong? My secretary made the arrangements and she’s been known to mess up in the past. I’d feel just terrible if I stood him up.”
The clerk clicked a few keys. “We did have a Robert Thomas from Michigan staying with us, but that was some time back.”
“Oh my God, I am going to fire my secretary the minute I get back home. I wonder why Robby didn’t call me.”
“Who gave him your contact information?”
Milton let out a gasp. “My secretary! That idiot! Wrong date, probably wrong phone number if she bothered to give him one at all.”
The clerk gave him a sympathetic look.
“Well, I hope Robby had a good time while he was here.”
The clerk glanced at the screen. “Records show he had a massage. So if you missed dinner with him, at least he was relaxed.”
Milton laughed. “God, a massage, I haven’t had one of those in years.”
“We have a great staff.”
“Do you have to be a guest here?”
“Oh no, I can make an appointment for you right now if you’d like.”
“I tell you what, let me have the same masseuse Robby did. She and I can swap Robby stories. He’s quite a character and I’m sure the masseuse will remember him.”
The clerk smiled. “Right you are, sir. Let me make the call.”
The clerk dialed the spa, spoke for a couple minutes and then his face clouded. “Oh, right, I didn’t realize it was her. Okay, I’ll get back to you.” He hung up and turned to Milton.
“I’m afraid you can’t have the same masseuse, sir.”
“Oh, she no longer works here?”
“It’s not that.” The clerk dropped his voice. “She, well, she died.”
“Oh my God. Accident?”
“I really can’t say, sir.”
“I completely understand. So sad. Was she young?”
“Yes. And Cindy was a really nice person.”
“Well, that’s just awful.”
“Would you still like a massage with someone else? We actually have an opening for you now.”
