Billy munched on the breadstick while giving Misty a hard stare.
“I saw it on a TV show once,” she explained.
“Nico’s relatives are Gypsies. He’s not giving me up.”
“What about the cheater’s code? Doesn’t it say that we’re supposed to help other cheaters if they get in trouble? That guy needs your help, Billy.”
Billy lived by the cheater’s code and had drummed it into every person who joined his crew. If a cheat got jammed up by the law, other cheats were expected to help out by both moral and material support. Their lunches came and Misty dug into her pizza.
“How’s it taste?” he asked.
“Too much garlic but not bad. Want a slice?”
“No, I’m good.”
He watched her eat. Misty was right; he was obligated by the code to help Nico despite the bad blood between them. The problem was, he didn’t have much time. Once the casino turned Nico over to the police and a report was filed, all bets were off.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Misty said.
“It’s doable,” he said.
“You can spring him?”
“I think so.”
“How?”
“I’ll call our VIP host and ask him to talk to management.”
“You mean DeSantis? Can he do that?”
“If I ask him, he just might.”
Misty didn’t understand. Billy leaned in close and explained. “Remember the fight between Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield at the MGM Grand?”
“Is that the fight where Tyson bit off Holyfield’s ear?”
“That’s the one. Everyone was betting on Tyson to win so needless to say they lost their shirts. After Tyson was disqualified, the spectators spilled into the casino and several fights broke out. Then a gangbanger pulled a gun and fired into the ceiling.”
“I remember that. There was nearly a riot. So what’s this have to do with Nico?”
“That night, a famous basketball player was playing blackjack in the MGM’s casino. This basketball player was known to drop a million bucks when he came to town.
“The basketball player had two buddies with him. As the gangbanger shot up the casino, everyone hit the floor, except the basketball player’s buddies. They stayed in their chairs and helped themselves to chips from the dealer’s tray. The next day, the theft got spotted when the MGM reviewed the surveillance tapes. Guess what happened.”
“The MGM called the police.”
“Nope. They called the basketball player instead.”
“They kept the theft hush-hush? Why, were they afraid of the publicity?”
“Hardly. The MGM was afraid they might lose the basketball player’s action if they busted his two friends, so they gave the friends a pass.”
“Is your credit line as big as the basketball player’s was?”
“Bigger.”
“Will Carnivale let Nico go if you ask them?”
“They might. It depends upon how convincing my story is.”
“What are you going to say?”
“I’m going to tell DeSantis that I just saw an old high school chum of mine getting hauled off the floor, and would they be so kind as to let him go.”
“You’re not going to mention that Nico was cheating.”
“No, that would be telling them too much. Always keep your lies simple.”
“You think it’s going to work?”
“Let’s find out.”
Billy called DeSantis’s number on his cell phone. He had already lost a sizable amount of money at Carnivale’s blackjack tables, which made him gold in management’s eyes. But was it enough of a loss for management to let Nico skate? He was about to find out.
“Hey, Mr. C., how you doing?” DeSantis answered cheerfully.
“I’ve got a favor to ask, Eddie,” Billy said.
“Name it, Mr. C.”
“I just saw an old friend of mine having a chat with your security. They pulled him out of the casino and are holding him. I was hoping they might be convinced to let him go.”
DeSantis coughed into the phone. “Any idea what your friend was doing?”
“I’m sure it was no big deal. His name’s Nico Boswell. We were best friends in high school, used to go out on double dates. I’d hate to see anything happen to him. Do you think you could pull some strings and make this go away? It would mean a lot to me, Eddie.”
“Let me see what I can do, Mr. C. Back to you in twenty.”
“You’re a star, Eddie.”
Thirty-One
Misty finished her pizza and then ate Billy’s salad. She had lost weight in Lake Tahoe and it showed in her cheekbones. The stress that came when planning a big job was always huge. Billy had also lost weight and found hair in the shower’s drain. There was no question that stealing was bad for your health. It also wrecked marriages and led to alcoholism and drug abuse. These were bad things, yet he wouldn’t have traded the lifestyle for the world. Let the lawyers and doctors have their country clubs and swollen bank accounts. Every time he took down a casino, he experienced more thrills than those fuckers saw in a lifetime.
“So what do you think? Will the casino let Nico walk?” Misty asked.
Billy shrugged. Twenty minutes had passed since he’d talked to DeSantis and asked for Nico to be let go. DeSantis had promised to call back, and Billy didn’t know if the lack of communication was a good sign.
“Hard to say,” he said.
“What’s your backup plan if they don’t?”
“Who said I had a backup plan?”
“You always have a backup plan. That’s why Pepper and I decided to join your crew when you recruited us. You’re one step ahead of everybody else.”
“And I thought it was my boyish innocence and charming good looks.”
“Ha-ha. So what is it?”
“I’ll threaten to leave and go back to the Rio.”
“Is losing a good customer enough to make them do it?”
Billy nodded. He’d done the math on Carnivale. They were a publicly traded company on the New York Stock Exchange, and according to their most recent 10K filing with the SEC, the parent company spent $1.35 billion on Carnivale’s yearly operations. Dividing that number by 365 days, and then dividing that number by twenty-four hours, broke down to $154,000 per hour. It was a huge nut, and hopefully enough to cloud management’s judgment.
The rules were different inside a casino. Their customers broke the law every day by bringing prostitutes to their rooms, but rarely were the police called. And if a customer connected to a whale got caught stealing, the casino just might look the other way.
His cell phone vibrated on the table. He flipped it over and stared at its face.
“Guess who,” he said.
“Sweet-talking Eddie DeSantis?” Misty asked.
“You got it. What do you want to bet they’re going to let Nico go?”
“What kind of odds are you giving me?”
“Fifty-fifty.”
Misty shook her head. “I’d never bet against you.”
“How about all the tea in China?”
“You’re on, hot shot.”
“You’re a genius,” Misty said as they crossed the casino.
“Remember, Nico’s an old high school buddy. We wrestled together,” Billy said.
“Why’d you pick that sport?”
“Because neither of us is big enough to have played anything else.”
They came to the casino cage. DeSantis stood in front of the cage, talking to his bosses on his Bluetooth. Behind him stood a frightened Nico with two brutish security guards.
Seeing Billy, Nico blinked.
How cute, Billy thought. Carnivale’s security hadn’t told Nico what the deal was. Instead, they’d sent him onto the casino floor with the guards. These same security people were now watching via the eye-in-the-sky, wanting to see how Nico reacted when Billy appeared.