“I’d say he’s done,” Pepper said.
“I’d buy an eight ball from him,” Misty said.
T-Bird went to the mirror hanging over the bar to appraise his new look. Ike came up from behind him, offering encouragement.
“You really think this is going to fly?” T-Bird asked.
“Yeah,” Ike said. “You having second thoughts?”
“I don’t know, man. I just don’t know.”
The girls still needed to put on their disguises. They went into one of the bedrooms with the garment bags and shut the door. Billy turned to Ike. “Call Shaz on your cell phone and tell her T-Bird’s sick. Make it convincing.”
Ike made the call. “Hey, it’s me. I’m up in the suite with T-Bird. He’s sick as a dog, can’t get out of bed. Cunningham’s here, too. Sure, I’ll put him on.”
Billy took the cell phone. “Hey.”
“You shouldn’t have run away from me like that,” Shaz said. “I didn’t like it.”
“I guess I’m just the bashful type.”
“What’s wrong with T-Bird?”
“I think he got food poisoning. It’s not pretty.”
“He’ll live. Meet me outside the wedding chapel wearing a sports jacket. We’re going to mike you up. Rock wants to be able to talk with you while you’re on the casino floor.”
Wearing a mike would be the same as having an electronic dog collar around his neck, and Billy told himself he’d just have to work around it.
“I’ll be right down,” he said.
The call ended. He entered the bedroom and shut the door behind him. Misty and Pepper stood at the dresser, turning themselves into Mexican hit women. Misty wore a leather mini, leggings, fake eyelashes, and was applying dark pancake to her face. Pepper had chosen a leather jumpsuit that hid her freckled arms and legs, a black wig that spiraled to her shoulders, and the same dark pancake, liberally applied to her pale skin. They could both pass as Hispanic, and he smiled to himself, seeing the pieces falling together.
“What do you think?” Misty asked.
“I think this is going to work.”
He grabbed the sports jacket he’d brought with him from the closet and slipped it on. “I’ve got to blow. Remember, the pigeon drop is still on.”
“What are we going to do with the extra two million we steal from these guys?”
“Split it up, same as always,” he said.
“Goody.”
He walked out of the bedroom to find Ike waiting for him.
“Let’s go downstairs and rob this joint,” Billy said.
FIFTY-SEVEN
The elevator dumped them in the lobby. Instead of going to the wedding chapel as Shaz had instructed, Billy visited the casino instead. The joint was jumping, the players yelling with each turn of a card or roll of the dice, the sound of a ringing slot machine cutting through the air.
“People acting crazy in there,” Ike said.
It was called a hot zone, and it occurred when a player got on a lucky streak. The euphoria quickly spread to other players and caused them to behave like drunken sailors on a navy payday. He could not have asked for a better distraction for making a run at the cage with the fake chips.
They headed to the wedding chapel. Shaz stood outside the chapel’s double doors, not happy at being made to wait. Billy said, “Sorry, but the elevators were slow.”
“Why do I think you’re lying every time we talk?” she said.
She approached an unmarked door across from the chapel and punched a combination into the door handle. It led to a storage room. Along with the fake flowers and wall decorations was a small army of muscle-bound, plainclothes security guards. Shaz introduced Billy by saying that he was a consultant the casino had hired to catch a gang of cheaters who were planning to rip them off this afternoon. Each guard gave Billy a cursory nod.
“Chase, mike him up,” Shaz said.
Chase was as big as a sumo wrestler and he gave Billy a funny look.
“You look familiar,” Chase said. “Ever work for the Trop? I used to run security there.”
Billy had ripped off the Tropicana many times, right under this idiot’s nose.
“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure,” he said.
“That’s funny. I’d swear I’ve seen you before.”
Chase clipped a receiver onto Billy’s belt from which ran two transparent plastic wires. The first wire contained a receiver embedded in a flesh-colored earplug, the second a miniature black microphone with a clip. Billy stuck the earplug into his left ear and clipped the mike to his right lapel. He flipped the power button on the receiver and static filled his ear.
“You’re set,” Chase said. “What’s your name again?”
“Billy Cunningham.”
“I’ll figure out where I know you from eventually.”
Shaz pulled him out of the storage room. In the lobby outside the chapel was another couple ready to take the plunge. The bride was chewing gum while her husband didn’t appear old enough to have pubic hair. The doors to the chapel opened and they filed in with the rest of their party. Billy checked the time. Three thirty on the nose. At three forty-five, it was the Gypsies’ turn.
“Walk with me,” Shaz said.
He followed her into the hotel lobby, where she stopped at a large potted plant positioned by the wall. “This is where we want you and Ike to stand. Don’t move until Rock tells you. Remember, we can see everything you’re doing. No funny stuff.”
He thought back to the four large-screen TVs in Doucette’s office. A large potted plant had been on TV number two, at the very periphery of the surveillance camera trained on the lobby. They had framed the play without knowing it.
“Got it,” he said.
She grabbed his chin and squeezed it. “I’m heading upstairs to my husband’s office. Don’t you dare try and fuck us. I’ll kill you myself if you do.”
“I won’t fuck you,” he said.
“That’s only because we’re watching you.”
Ike laughed under his breath as she hurried away.
When Shaz was gone, Billy took a step backward. If memory served him correctly, he was now at the very edge of the surveillance camera’s range. Framing the play was a powerful weapon when taking down a casino. By knowing where a surveillance camera was pointed, a cheater could position himself at the edge of the frame and be hidden enough to go about his business and not get caught.
He checked the receiver clipped to his belt. The green light was on. He found the power switch and flipped it off. The green light faded away.
“You ready?” he asked.
“I don’t know-what am I supposed to do?” Ike said.
“You’re going to walk away, and no one’s going to see you. Rock and Marcus can see us on the surveillance camera, but only barely. If you take a giant step backward, you’ll disappear from their view. When the Gypsy wedding party comes marching down the lobby, all eyes will be on them. That’s when you split.”
“You sure they won’t see me leave?” Ike asked.
“Positive.”
“Man, I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”
“No more talking. I’m turning the receiver back on.”
He flipped the switch and the green light came on. He shifted his attention toward the elevator bank at the end of the lobby and waited for the Gypsies to show their faces.
Cory and Morris were sweating through their underwear, and it had nothing to do with the dry desert heat. Following Billy’s instructions, they’d used a fake driver’s license to rent a red Chevy Malibu from Hertz’s airport location, then driven the vehicle back to Galaxy. They’d allocated an hour for their task, which was plenty of time on a weekday but never enough for a Saturday. Stuck in a bottleneck on the Strip, the two fledgling hustlers stared at Galaxy’s flashing neon sign a mere stone’s throw away.