James Swain - Take Down

“He’s mad, and he’s going to call the cops,” Ike said.

“You’re half-right. He’s mad, but he isn’t calling the cops. If he were going to call the cops, he’d stay a safe distance away from me. Try again.”

“He wants his money back.”

“That’s right. He’s mad, and he wants his money back. You just figured out the two things that were on his mind. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Easy as pie,” Ike said.

“So what do I do?”

“Give him a refund.”

“In front of the other suckers and risk exposing myself? No way. I stick my hand into my pocket where I keep my wad, peel two fifties off the roll, and palm them in my hand. I bring my hand out of my pocket and stick the money into the sucker’s palm as I shake his hand. The other suckers think we’re friends. I whisper in his ear. I say, ‘Play along.’”

“Did he keep his mouth shut?”

“Damn straight he did. He paid fifty for the watch, got a hundred back. He just made a one hundred percent return on investment. He goes home happy. End of story.”

A trio of waiters brought their meals to the table with the precision of a military exercise. The meats were cooked to perfection, the smells mouthwatering. Ike and T-Bird picked up their cutlery and dug in. He had hooked them with a story from his youth. Now came the hard part, which would be to reel them in. He ignored his meal and watched them eat.

Ike finished his rib eye in record time and wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. The look on his face was skeptical. “You ever try this in a casino? You know, during a scam.”

“I use it all the time,” he said.

“How’s that work?”

He glanced furtively over his shoulder. None of the waitstaff were near the table, but he did it anyway, just for the effect. “It’s Friday night, and I’m scamming Planet Hollywood at roulette. The ball falls, and one of the ladies in my crew deliberately places a late bet. The croupier sees her and says, ‘Lady, you can’t do that!’ The croupier slides her late bet back to her. He does this real deliberately, so everyone can see he’s got things under control.

“At the same time, the other lady in my crew makes a second late bet. She’s sitting next to the red-black boxes on the layout, and she drops five hundred on the red, which happens to be the color that just won. No one sees a thing because they’re preoccupied watching the croupier. His movements block out her movements. The scam’s totally invisible.

“Suddenly, a little old lady standing next to me says ‘Holy crap’ under her breath. She’s seen the whole thing. So what’s she thinking?”

Ike rubbed his chin in thought. “She’s thinking, shit, I wish that was me.”

“You nailed it. What tipped you off?”

“’Cause she didn’t broadcast it.”

“There you go. If she’d wanted to expose us, she’d have said it out loud. So I slipped a few hundred in chips into her hands, and I whispered, ‘Be nice.’ When you whisper to a stranger, you’re making them an accomplice. She walked away with a big smile on her puss.”

“Very cool,” Ike said.

“Think about what happened at the campsite. I knew what Mags was thinking as you brought her toward me. She’s praying I wouldn’t shoot her. When I whispered ‘Jump in the grave,’ her prayers came true, and she played along.”

“But what if she hadn’t played along?” T-Bird said. “What then?”

“They always do. You just need to play it cool, and they’ll come around.”

He was done talking and ate his now cold filet while watching the punishers converse with their eyes. Eyebrows arched up, eyebrows down, a few short snorts, each man speaking his mind. Ike was sold, the jury still out for the bird man. They both needed to be on board if he was going to rob Galaxy’s casino, and he raised his arm and clicked his fingers.

Their waiter hustled over. “Is everything to your satisfaction?”

He waved the waiter closer and whispered to him. The waiter nodded and left. To T-Bird he said, “I just told our waiter it’s your birthday. Just watch. He’s going to bring out a piece of cake with a candle and get the entire staff to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you.”

“Did you ask him to do that?” the bird man asked.

“I didn’t have to.”

“Then how you know he’s going to?”

“Because our waiter thinks we’re high rollers. I could tell by the way he served us and how overly polite he’s been. Our waiter thinks that if he takes extra special care of us, we’re going to take care of him, so he’s going to pull out all the stops.”

“A cake with a candle and everybody in the fucking kitchen singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to little ole me, and you didn’t tell him to,” T-Bird said skeptically.

“That’s right.”

“You’re messing with us again.”

“Bet you I’m right. Loser picks up the tab.”

“You’re on.”

Sixty seconds later, their waiter returned to their table holding a dessert plate containing a slice of molten chocolate cake with a lit white sparkler on top, which he placed in front of a slack-jawed T-Bird. The rest of the waitstaff appeared and gathered round the table, along with the female bartender, both the cooks, and a gang of grinning busboys. On the count of three, they broke into a rousing rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ sung in Portuguese while enthusiastically clapping their hands. By the time they were done, every diner in the restaurant was applauding, and Ike was laughing his fool head off.

While T-Bird settled the tab, Billy waited outside. It was a faultless night, and he watched a jet pass beneath the stars. He couldn’t remember ever gazing up and not seeing a plane. With the same ferocious determination of lemmings, suckers flocked to Vegas to gamble their money away. One day, they were going to collectively wake up and realize the town was a big scam. Until that happened, he’d ride the wave along with everyone else.

His Droid vibrated. Ly calling. The late hour spelled trouble. If she hadn’t been his friend’s girlfriend, he wouldn’t have taken the call.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Gaming agents come to motel looking for me,” she said. “They bang on everyone’s door, tell people open up. I climb out bathroom window, hide by pool. Finally they leave.”

“Tell the manager to move you to another room.”

“You tell him. I scared.”

“Come on, work with me.”

“You want gaming board to arrest me? Maybe I tell them how we cheat Slots A Fun. I bet they like to hear about that.”

Blackmail. As if he didn’t have enough problems right now. He told her to hold tight and ended the call. Ike and T-Bird came outside. He sensed a subtle change in them. They’d accepted the fact that they were clueless and needed to do what he said.

“I need you to cover for me for a few hours,” he said.

“No problem,” Ike said.

Ike took Flamingo to Koval and pulled into the motel parking lot where Ly was holed up. Billy checked for unmarked vehicles and saw none. As he started to get out, Ike stopped him.

“Me and T want to hear details about tomorrow’s scam,” Ike said.

“Yeah, like what are we supposed to do?” T-Bird asked.

He’d purposely avoided talking about details, knowing they’d wake up tomorrow having forgotten. It was the problem when you worked with morons.

“I’ll go over the details tomorrow over breakfast,” he said. “Just make sure you get a good night’s sleep. You need to be on your toes.”

“Sleeping’s never been a problem.” Ike shot T-Bird a disgusted look.

“That’s not funny,” T-Bird said.

Billy didn’t want to hear anymore, and jumped out. The Camaro roared away. He took another look around the parking lot before approaching Ly’s room and tapping on the door.