Until now.
Within an hour, Wang had won back the money he’d lost downstairs. The ball was falling his way, the lucky numbers winning enough times to give him a huge edge over the house.
Lamb did not seem overly concerned. Wang had established himself as a sucker, and suckers were expected to win every once in a while. It was what kept them coming back.
By the end of the second hour, Wang was up $3 million. Billy and his crew had tried to camouflage the winning by purposely placing losing bets. As their stacks grew smaller, Wang’s stack had become a fortress. Wang was a different person when winning, and he banged the table with the pent-up energy of a man who’d been kept down too long.
By now, Lamb was sweating through his underwear. Thinking Wang was on an extended winning streak, Lamb tried to break Wang’s rhythm and told the bartender to refill Wang’s wineglass whenever it ran dry.
By the fourth hour, Wang was slurring his speech and was up $6 million.
Lamb’s next move was to change croupiers. An ice princess named Nicolette took over the game, and within twenty minutes Wang had beaten her out of another million bucks.
Lamb was growing desperate. Too much money was flying out the window, and Lamb stepped away from the table and made a hurried call on his cell phone. A minute later, the promised chef appeared and offered to whip up their favorite meals.
Wang eyed the chef suspiciously. Wang knew that when the meals were delivered, play would be halted, and the Chinese gambler wasn’t about to let that happen.
“What is your pleasure this evening?” the chef asked.
“Big Mac,” Wang said.
“I’m sorry, but Big Macs aren’t on the menu,” the chef said.
“Go get one,” Wang said. Then added, “With a large order of fries and a chocolate shake.”
A whale was not to be denied, and the chef left in a huff.
Thirty minutes later, Wang got his Big Mac and fries and his shake. He unwrapped the food at the table and offered Pepper the first bite. Pepper was playing drunk, having dumped several rum drinks down the toilet. She took a bite and giggled.
Wang was now up a cool ten million. Lamb had brought in reinforcements, and three more office orangutans had joined the party. Like Lamb, they were corn-fed bruisers.
Sweat was doing a death march down Lamb’s face. If Lamb didn’t do something, the casino’s bottom line would reflect a losing night, a losing week, and a losing quarter.
Lamb took the ball from the croupier and went to the bar, where he used a mallet to split the ball open. A crew of Italian cheats had swindled the Ritz in London using a transmitter concealed in a cigarette pack and a receiver embedded in the ball.
Lamb searched through the powder and frowned.
You ain’t even close, Billy thought.
Wang rose from his chair. He was three sheets to the wind and could barely stand up. Billy rose as well and said, “I think we’re done, don’t you?”
“Not done,” Wang said drunkenly.
“You want to continue to play?”
Wang pointed at the layout and to Lamb said, “One million on each lucky number. I give you a chance to win your money back.”
Billy rocked back on his heels. The scam wasn’t foolproof, and Wang’s lucky numbers would not come up all the time. If Wang lost, Billy and his crew lost as well. But if Wang won, they’d be eating steak and lobster for the rest of their lives.
Lamb made a call on his cell. Ending the call, he said, “We’ll take your action.”
An exchange was made. Wang’s fortress of chips became ten black chips, with each chip representing $1 million. Wang placed his bets on the layout with Pepper’s help.
The wheel was set in motion and the ball spun.
“Shoot the pickle!” Wang screamed.
Fifty-Two
No one had ever cried when a casino lost money, except for the people who ran it. The office orangutans accompanied Wang in an elevator to the main floor of the casino. In Wang’s hands was $36 million in chips. It was easily the single biggest loss a casino had ever suffered.
Billy and his crew followed in a separate elevator. Upon reaching the casino, they joined the procession while staying several steps back. It was not uncommon for casinos to steer winning gamblers to tables in the hopes of winning their money back, and Billy was going to make sure that Wang did not take any unexpected detours. Upon reaching the cage, Wang passed his thirty-six million in chips through the bars to a cashier. The cashier’s jaw dropped open.
“Cash me out,” Wang said.
A cash transaction report was slid through the bars along with a pen. Wang took his time filling in the necessary information.
“What happens now?” Pepper whispered into Billy’s ear.
“Tommy takes his money and goes home,” Billy said.
“Just like that?”
“Yup, just like that.”
“But the casino has to be suspicious. He just won thirty-six million bucks.”
The casino was suspicious. It was too much money for a player to win at roulette, or, for that matter, at any other casino game. But knowing something wasn’t right and proving it were two entirely different things. Because Wang had played roulette inside a sky palace, there were no video tapes for the casino to review. Without those tapes, it would be impossible to determine the number of times Wang’s lucky numbers had paid off, which happened to be off the charts. This was why Billy had worked so hard to get the game moved out of the casino.
“Misty thinks the croupiers were involved,” Pepper whispered. “She thinks you taught them to spin the ball a certain way so it landed on Tommy’s lucky numbers. Is that possible?”
“No.”
“Misty said she saw it in an old movie.”
“This isn’t the movies.”
“Were the croupiers involved?”
“Nope.”
“Then why did the guards escort the last croupier away?”
“So the casino can give her a polygraph.”
Wang was given another form to fill out. Since 9/11, the federal government required gamblers to report cash transactions more than $10,000. The casinos hadn’t taken this law seriously until the MGM got shut down for noncompliance.
Cory and Morris edged up next to Billy.
“Morris thinks he figured it out,” Cory whispered.
Billy liked when his crew tried to dope things out. It meant they were curious, and not just along for the ride. “Lay it on me.”
“The wheel was biased,” Morris whispered. “At first I thought it was weighted, but then I realized Wang’s winning numbers were all over the wheel. You somehow put grooves in the wheel that made the ball drop on those numbers.”
“Grooves can be seen,” Billy said. “They’re good if you’re going to rip off the joint once, and that’s all they’re good for.”
“I told you that wasn’t how it worked,” Cory whispered.
“But that’s the only way it can work,” Morris whispered back.
“Keep trying,” Billy said.
Morris was partially right about how the scam worked. The only reliable way to cheat at roulette was with a biased wheel. Wheels could be biased by applying weights to the underside, which caused sections of the wheel to favor the ball’s path. As scams went, a biased wheel was self-working. The wheel did all the work, while the cheats made all the money.
The casinos knew about biased wheels. To protect themselves, they bought their wheels from companies that guaranteed the wheel’s reliability. These wheels were flawlessly balanced, with pockets uniformly surfaced and frets resistant to wear.
This didn’t mean that cheats hadn’t found ways to bias wheels. It happened, and usually involved an employee who biased the wheel when no one was looking. This was accomplished using a special varnish that caused the ball to slow down and fall on desired numbers.