Gaming Wheel
Duke and Jerry showed up at the apartment at 8:30. Duke was wearing a T-shirt, jeans, and a ball cap. Jerry had on a dress shirt and slacks. Their respective functions as mechanic and check-bettor made no particular demands on their wardrobe, so each attired himself to his own taste. I, however, had to put on the suit, despite the heat that didn't let up much summer nights in the desert. Joe had gone through my bedroom closet and decided that the lone suit hanging there wasn't suited to my role, so he bought me two new ones with money from the team bankroll. Everybody's clothes came off the top; nobody got chintzy if one guy got a suit while another only a shirt or a pair of pants. Joe tolerated no un classy acts in his operation.
Our goal for the night was two paid roulette moves, to try and pick up $7,000. The first target was the Sands, another classy Strip casino used to the big action. Jerry got on the table first and bought in for their dark brown chips. They went best with the black. Joe followed a few minutes later and bought the off-whites from the stacks at the rear of the dealer's chip well. They both sat at the table making minimum bets, waiting for one of the chairs at the bottom of the table to become vacant. Duke stood nearby, waiting to pounce on it; he didn't want to lose it to yet another player who might end up staying there a long time, further delaying our move.
Again, it took over an hour for the team to get properly in position another wheel across the pit. Joe signaled, and I walked up to the table and made the setup bet, again on 33. The dealer alerted the floor man, who came over and watched her spin the ball. I lost the bet and retreated back to my position across the pit.
Four spins later, the dealer hit number 31, and Joe joined me back to the table. In the same basic fashion as at the Tropicana that afternoon, the dealer swept the losing chips off the layout, then turned to get the two off-white stacks he needed to pay Joe's winning bet on the third-dozen box. This particular female dealer's turn was more pronounced than Willie's had been at the Trop. Duke went right out and popped in the move, casually leaving the table.
While claiming, I noticed that two of the dark brown chips now underneath the marker were a little beveled, one slanted slightly off the other, and that all four of them, including the black, were slightly off center. Duke's speed had been good, but his placement was just a little off. I feared the inaccuracy of the move might cause me a problem but didn't let it stop me from claiming. I had discussed that exact situation with Joe. He'd said that if I ever noticed something amiss during a move, I had the final say regarding the claim and could cancel or abandon it at any time. The chins he gave only concerned conditions inside the casino and at the table. They represented a positive evaluation of casino personnel, determining that the atmosphere was right for a move. It was also Joe's responsibility as head of our security to observe the other players wherever the move went down. Had he seen somebody that bothered him-a potential rat or, undercover gaming agent-he would obviously nose off the move.
Nobody in the pit seemed to notice the imperfection of Duke' move, and I was quickly paid the $3,500. I let the black chip rid on number 31. After it lost, I left the casino and walked to the bar in the Castaways casino.
The second $3,500 payoff came off a roulette table at the Bal1 bray Coast, a casino we didn't work much because of its proximity to the Four Corners, the intersection of the Strip and Flamingo Ro: where Caesars Palace, the Dunes, the MGM Grand, and the FI mango Hilton all stood. Since those four casinos were all majors one.