“They’re not going to figure it out,” Billy said.
“How can you be so sure?”
Gabe sat at the head of the kitchen table eating Swedish meatballs with a toothpick. Gabe had been through hell and back and it was time for Billy to acknowledge Gabe’s contribution. “Because Gabe’s a fucking genius, that’s why,” Billy said.
“Thanks, Billy,” the jeweler said. “You guys want a demonstration?”
“Yeah,” they all said.
“Follow me.”
Gabe’s two-car garage served as his workshop. Whenever a new piece of casino equipment came on the market, Billy bought one and gave it to Gabe to play with. On the workshop table sat a roulette wheel identical to the wheels used at Carnivale’s casino.
“A little back story is in order,” Billy said. “A year ago, I got introduced to Eddie DeSantis through a mutual friend. DeSantis had just started working at the Carnivale, and he had a real grudge with his bosses. A whale got drunk one night and raped a guest in his suite. The casino was afraid of losing the whale’s business, so they made DeSantis cover it up.
“DeSantis wanted to pay his bosses back. I saw a real opportunity, so I struck a deal with him. I would go to the Rio pretending to be a whale, and DeSantis would convince his bosses that I was worth stealing and putting up in one of Carnivale’s sky palaces.”
“Wait a second,” Misty said. “If DeSantis was involved in the scam, why were you always giving him crap? What did that prove?”
“Remember the Bluetooth earpiece DeSantis wore? His bosses were listening to him, just like Big Brother. I didn’t have a choice,” Billy said.
“So it was just a big act,” Misty said.
“That’s right. DeSantis played a role, just like the rest of you. And he also got a million-dollar payday.” Billy set the wheel in motion and gave the ball a spin. “DeSantis had another role, which was to help me get a gaffed wheel into a storage room at the Carnivale. Roulette wheels are pretty sturdy and are rarely replaced. Carnivale’s spare wheel was kept in a storage room with no surveillance cameras. Switching the wheel for a gaffed one was easy.”
“Is this wheel gaffed?” Travis asked.
“It sure is. But you won’t find the secret, no matter how hard you look,” Billy said.
“You’re kidding me,” Travis said.
“Show him,” Billy said.
Gabe went to his worktable and picked up a plastic cup filled with thin metal screws. Gabe told Travis to hold out his hand and poured a dozen screws into the big man’s palm.
“Between each number on a roulette wheel is a metal separator called a fret,” Gabe said. “The frets are attached to the wheel by screws made of carbon steel. Each screw has a fifty-four percent carbon and forty-six percent magnesium composition. The screws in your hand are different. They have forty-two percent carbon and fifty-eight percent magnesium. They’re slightly softer, which causes the ball to land on those numbers more of the time. These screws let Wang win.”
Travis shook his head. The big man had worked as a dealer and knew how thorough the gaming board was. “I hate to be a party pooper, but this won’t hold up. We’re fucked.”
“We’re fucked if the gaming board can replicate what happened in Wang’s sky palace, and they can’t do that.” Billy took the ball out of the wheel and tossed it to Travis. “This wheel is gaffed so Wang’s lucky numbers come up. We used it to test the scam. Go ahead and spin it a few times and see what happens.”
Travis spun the wheel ten times in a row. The crew stood around the worktable, their eyes glued to the ball. Not once did one of Wang’s lucky numbers come up. Billy said, “Let me give it a try,” and on his very first spin, one of Wang’s numbers won.
“How the hell did you do that?” Travis said, clearly exasperated.
“Say uncle, and I’ll show you,” Billy said.
“Uncle, uncle.”
“Try it again, but this time, spin the wheel as hard as you can.”
Travis gave the wheel a much harder spin. This time, one of Wang’s numbers hit.
“Explain this to me, will you?” the big man said.
“It’s all physics,” Billy said. “If the wheel is spun at an excessively high speed, the ball is compelled to the line of least resistance. The faster the rotation, the harder the ball hits the frets that are firmly screwed down. At the same time, when the ball bounces against the frets with the softer screws, it meets less resistance and is more likely to come to rest.”
Travis nodded, now a believer. “They’ll never figure that out.”
“You’re right. They never will.”
“How’d you get the croupiers on board?” Morris asked. “Were they part of the scam?”
“No, they were unwitting accomplices. Carnivale’s croupiers are from Havana, and in Cuba croupiers are trained to spin the wheel much quicker than here in the States. If a player gets hot, the croupiers spin it even faster, thinking it will change the run of the game.”
“So when Wang started winning, the croupiers helped him out by spinning the wheel even faster,” Morris said.
“Yes, they did. I plan to send them very nice Christmas presents this year. Anonymously, of course.”
His crew took turns trying out the gaffed wheel. It wasn’t long before they were believers as well, and they drifted back into the kitchen and helped themselves to the catered food. In a few days, after they’d deposited their checks and it had sunk in, they’d be different people. Whoever had said that money didn’t buy happiness had never been poor.
Everyone was happy, except for Pepper. She’d come to the meeting wearing a pair of designer shades and hadn’t uttered a word, not even after getting her share of the loot. That wasn’t like her, and Billy got her outside onto the lanai and shut the slider for privacy.
“You’re not acting like yourself. What’s going on?”
“You were right,” Pepper said, her voice cracking.
“Why are you so hoarse?”
“Because I’ve been crying.”
“About what?”
“Him.”
“Wang?”
“Who else?” She produced her cell phone and displayed its face. Wang had sent her a text with a selfie taken with his wife and kids. They looked like one big happy family. “Tommy flew home, and when his wife heard he’d won thirty-six million bucks, she took him back. He sent me a Dear John text. Thanks for the memories.” Tears poured down her cheeks, and she made no attempt to wipe them away. “You told me Wang was no good, but did I listen? Fuck, no. I went and let him break my heart.”
Pepper wanted to hurt someone. She pulled out her check and started to tear it in half. Billy snatched it from her fingers, knowing she’d regret it later on. He held out his arms, and she fell into his body, laying her head on his chest.
“Goddamn men,” she sobbed.
Fifty-Five
Billy knew a lot of hustlers who abused alcohol and took drugs. Stealing released endorphins that got them high; then, they took drugs or got drunk to come down.
It was a brutal cycle that always ended badly.
Billy had heard the names Sydney and Bobby Rehmar upon arriving in Las Vegas ten years ago. The Rehmars had helped hundreds of addicts by opening their home to them and helping them kick their addictions. The Rehmars didn’t care if you stole for a living or if you were a brain surgeon. All they cared about was helping you get better.
The Rehmars were long gone, but their legacy lived on. Inside the sprawling Las Vegas Recovery Center on the north side of town was a pair of single-story houses called the Rehmar Recovery Residences that were dedicated to help addicts seek long-term recovery.
Sydney’s residence housed eight women and was a sweet deal. It had private bedrooms, cable TV, and a pool. Billy sat on a lounge chair watching Mags tread water in the deep end. She’d been off the pills and booze for several weeks and was having a hard time adjusting.