Michael Connelly - Void Moon

While Cavallito said Karch has been cleared of any wrongdoing in the death of Freeling, the district attorney did criticize the decision of Karch and Cleopatra officials to set up the sting operation without police involvement.

"We certainly wish that they had contacted the Metro Police Department before going ahead with this," Cavallito said. "Maybe then this whole incident could have been avoided."

Vincent Grimaldi, chief of security at the Cleopatra, declined to comment on Cavallito's criticism.

A spokesman for the Casino Association declined to say whether Karch could claim the reward in light of the death of the suspected thief and arrest of his accomplice.

More details about Freeling were emerging yesterday as well. Authorities said the suspect had twice before been convicted of burglary and had previously spent a total of four years in state prisons. Freeling was said to have grown up in Las Vegas and, like Karch, was the son of a figure of note. Freeling's father was Carson Freeling, who was convicted in 1963 of taking part in a daring armed robbery of the Royale Casino, a caper which many locals believe was inspired by the film Ocean's Eleven, starring Frank Sinatra and other members of the so-called Rat Pack.

Maxwell Freeling was three years old at the time of his father's arrest. Carson Freeling died in prison in 1981.

Karch studied the photo that accompanied the story. It was a mug shot of Cassidy Black taken on the day of her arrest. Her long blond hair was messy and her eyes looked red and sore from crying. He remembered that she had refused to say word one to the Metro cops, even through twelve hours of interrogation. She had stood up and Karch admired that.

During the investigation of the Freeling incident, Karch had never met her or even been in the same room with her. It was impossible to confirm that the woman in the photograph was the one he had watched on surveillance videos at the Cleo and the Flamingo but in his gut he knew it was.

He scanned through the remaining few clips until he got to the last story. This one had another photo of Cassidy Black running alongside the story. It showed her in a jailhouse jumpsuit and shackles being led from a courtroom by two bailiffs. There was something about the angle of her jaw and the focus of her eyes upward that he liked. It showed that she still carried her dignity, despite the cuffs and the jumpsuit and the situation she was in.

His eyes moved over to the story and he read it. It was the last story in the saga, the cleanup. It was short and had been buried inside the Sun.

HIGH-ROLLER ROBBER

BLACK ENTERS PLEA, GETS PRISON

BY DARLENE GUNTER

Sun Staff Writer Cassidy Black, one of the so-called High-Roller Robbers, pleaded guilty Monday to charges relating to the crime spree that included the dramatic death of her partner two months ago. She was immediately sentenced to state prison.

In a plea agreement negotiated with the Clark County District Attorney's office, the 26-year-old one-time blackjack dealer pleaded guilty to one count of manslaughter and one count of conspiracy to commit burglary. She was sentenced by Circuit Court Judge Barbara Kaylor to serve five to fifteen years in prison.

Black, dressed in a yellow jumpsuit, said little during the courtroom hearing. She spoke the word "guilty" after each charge was read by Kaylor and then told the judge she fully understood the ramifications of her plea.

Black's attorney, Jack Miller, said the agreement was the best Black could do, considering the overwhelming evidence of her involvement with Maxwell James Freeling in a seven-month crime spree that ended with her arrest and Freeling's plunge from a penthouse window at the Cleopatra Resort and Casino.

"This agreement still leaves her a chance to start over," Miller said. "If she keeps her nose clean in prison she can be out in five, six, seven years. She'll still be in her early thirties and that leaves her a lot of time to start over and be productive in society."

Authorities said the evidence mounted against Black indicated she was Freeling's spotter and lookout on capers in which the hotel suites of high-rolling gamblers were burglarized while they slept.

Karch dropped the clip onto the others without reading it to the end. Cassidy Black's guilty plea had precluded a trial and allowed him to avoid having to testify about what happened in that suite with Freeling. Her conviction also allowed him to claim the reward, though he'd had to get a lawyer to sue the Casino Association for it. After attorney fees and taxes he had walked away with $ 26,000 in reward money and Grimaldi's leash around his neck. He had allowed himself to become Grimaldi's go-to guy for all the misdeeds and dirty work, the runs out to the desert with the full trunk.

All that is going to change, Karch said to himself. Soon. Soon.

Karch carefully refolded the newspaper clippings and closed the file. He then closed the box of cereal and took it back to the kitchen on his way to the front door.

At the front door he picked up the suit bag he had packed earlier and chose a porkpie hat from the rack. His traveling hat. He looked at the inside lining before putting it on. It was chocolate brown, a Mallory, the inside label said, For Youthful Smartness. He fitted it on and geeked the brim flat like an old jazz musician would, the way he had once seen Joe Louis wear a porkpie as the greeter at the front door of Caesar's. He stepped out the door into the brilliant white sunlight.

AS Karch walked through the casino at the Cleo he felt eyes upon him and looked up under the brim of his hat to see Vincent Grimaldi staring back at him from the crow's nest. Grimaldi did not have to gesture for Karch to know he was angry and waiting. Karch looked away and made his way to the elevators, a little more speed in his step.

When he was ushered into Grimaldi's office two minutes later, Karch was met by a large man he knew was Grimaldi's chief in-house thug. Karch couldn't recall his name but remembered it ended in a vowel. It was Rocco or Franco or something close.

"He wants to see me," Karch said.

"Yes, we've been reaching out to you all morning."

Karch noted the use of the plural and the condescending smirk on the other man's face as he gestured toward the door that opened onto the walkway to the crow's nest.

As Karch made his way around Grimaldi's desk he saw that it was spread with tools and equipment: an electric drill, a Polaroid camera, a large flashlight and a small tub of earthquake wax. He picked up the drill and saw that it had been wrapped in black rubber sewn together with fishing line.

"We found all of this in the air vent in room – "

"Two-thousand fifteen," Karch said. "I know. I told him it would be there."

He put the drill down and returned the condescending smirk to the man. He then stepped through the door to the walkway. He closed the door behind him, his eyes holding the other man's through the glass.

Grimaldi didn't turn to Karch as he came out. He stood with his hands gripping the railing and stared out at the sea of gamblers below. Karch had never been in the crow's nest before. He looked around and down upon the casino floor with a sense of awe and reverence. He glanced back and saw Grimaldi's thug standing at the glass door watching him. He turned and stepped right next to Grimaldi.

"Vincent."

"Whereya been, Jack? I've been calling."

"Sorry, Vincent, I had my hands full."

"What, changing your suit? Who you supposed to be, Bugsy Siegel or Art Pepper?"

"I'm here, Vincent. What do you want?"

Grimaldi looked at him now for the first time with an expression of warning.

"You know, I wonder if I was right about putting you on lead on this. My ass is on the line and I have no idea what you're doing besides changing clothes and putting on hats. Maybe I should hand this off to Romero. I know he's good to go on it."