James Swain - Take Down

Peret’s disposition grew more hospitable. The detective crossed the office and handed Billy the video poker game. “Explain how you did it, and don’t leave anything out.”

“You got it.” He hit the play button on the machine and the game came to life. “I saw this game in a store last Christmas, and it got me to thinking. I knew Bally made casino video poker machines, and I wondered if they’d programmed the game’s internal clock using the same software that they’d used for their casino games. It would save time, and lots of money.”

“Did they?” Peret asked.

“Yes, although it took me a while to figure it out. First, I analyzed the game on a computer, and discovered it used a random function to shuffle its internal deck of cards. The random function generates starting values, called seeds, which are randomly changed each time you play. It’s a simple formula. When a player hits the game’s start button, the random function looks at the number of milliseconds which have elapsed since twelve a.m. and uses that number to create the seed. With me so far?”

“Keep talking, smart-ass,” Peret said.

“Since there are eighty-six million milliseconds each day, the seeds should be totally random, ensuring a fair game. Because I knew the starting point was twelve a.m., I was able to work my way backward, calculate the seed, and then calculate which cards would come out. I was able to cheat the store game within a few hours.

“Cheating the casino version of the game came next. Brett, Dan, and I visited the Mohegan Sun, and Brett played a game of video poker while Dan read the cards off the screen to me with his cell phone. I was in our hotel room on my laptop, and I ran the cards through my software program using the twelve a.m. starting point. Sure enough, the internal clock on the casino game was identical to the store game. We started beating the casino game right away.”

“How much did you win?” Peret asked.

“Two grand. I told them not to win too much. You know they say hogs get fed, pigs get slaughtered. I guess they didn’t listen.”

“That would be an understatement,” the detective said.

Tired of talking, Billy bought a bottled water from a vending machine, which he split with Ly when he returned to their poolside chairs.

“You get thrown out?” she asked.

“Yup. Packed my bags and left that morning. The dean took the award back, gave me a real dressing down. It was humiliating. Then I went home. That was worse.”

“What happen?”

“My old man was in the kitchen reading the Saturday paper. I came in through the back door and dropped my suitcases on the floor and told him flat out what had happened. I didn’t even take my coat off. When I was finished, my old man didn’t say a thing. He just took off his reading glasses and wiped the tears from his eyes. I never saw him cry before. Not even when my grandparents died or my mom got thrown in jail. You understand what I’m saying? The man didn’t cry. I broke my father’s fucking heart.”

“What you do then?”

“I took a Greyhound bus to Vegas.”

“You no make up?”

“It was too late for that.”

He’d called his old man every week until he’d passed, but it had never been the same between them. Every man worth his salt dreamed of a better life, if not for himself, then for his children, and he’d shattered his father’s dream with the reckless disregard of a drunk shattering an empty beer bottle on the curb. It was a hurt that he could not fix, and he hadn’t even bothered to try.

“That sad,” she said.

“Tell me about it,” he said.

She rose from her chair and held out her hand.

“Let’s go back to room. I make you feel better.”

He looked up into her pretty face. It was tempting, but he wasn’t going there.

“You go,” he said.

“But…”

“Just go.”

“Don’t you want to feel better?”

“It’s too late for that.”

She left without a word. She’d gotten to hear his story, and that was all she was getting.

He stared at the pool’s flat surface for what felt like an eternity. If he had to do it over again, would he have done things differently? For his old man’s sake, he liked to think so. He could have enrolled in a community college and gotten a degree in math or engineering and still made his old man proud. That wouldn’t have been so hard.

But he hadn’t done that. Instead, he’d headed to Vegas and never looked back. It was the life he’d chosen and he had no regrets, except when his old man’s birthday came around.

Then he cried like hell.

“Tell us about Saturday,” LaBadie said. “We want to hear what happened in Galaxy’s casino. Don’t leave anything out.”

LaBadie, Zander, and Tricaricco were not happy campers. Their all-day deodorants were starting to fade, their chins sprouting five o’clock shadows. Dinnertime had come and gone, along with any hope of spending Sunday night with their families. Billy wasn’t going anywhere, and he took his time drinking a warm can of soda before answering the question.

“A strange thing happened on Saturday,” he said. “I discovered that another crime was being hatched, right under Doucette’s nose, and he didn’t know a damn thing about it.”

“Another crime besides the Gypsies?” LaBadie asked.

“That’s right.”

“Tell us about it.”

“Doucette had a pair of gay football players on his payroll named Ike and T-Bird. I got to know these guys pretty well. They told me that Doucette’s strip clubs were a front for a drug dealer named Rock, and that Rock had bankrolled Galaxy. Needless to say, I got upset.”

“You got upset.”

“That’s right. I know how hard the gaming board tries to keep drug money out of the casinos. I mean, it’s what you guys get paid for, isn’t it? And here I’m being told that a drug dealer pulled the wool over your eyes and actually got a casino built with drug money.”

“You’re not funny, Billy.”

“I’m not trying to be funny.”

“Keep talking.”

“Where was I? Oh yeah, Ike and T-Bird told me that Doucette was using check-cashing stores in town to launder the profits from Rock’s drug operation and turn the cash into money orders. They said Doucette was laundering eight million a pop, which I couldn’t believe. Doesn’t the gaming board monitor those stores to make sure stuff like that doesn’t happen?”

“Make another remark like that, and you’ll pay for it.”

“I’m just trying to be helpful.”

“I’m sure you are. Tell us about this crime Ike and T-Bird were planning.”

“Ike and T-Bird were planning to steal the eight million in money orders from the cage and wanted my help. Of course, I said no.”

“Those money orders were stolen yesterday afternoon,” LaBadie said, barely able to contain his anger. “Are you saying that you and your crew had nothing to do with the theft?”

“I already told you, I don’t have a crew.”

“You’re lying.”

“My client did not rob Galaxy Casino and does not have a crew,” the attorney said, having not spoken a word for several hours. “Please stop repeating these false allegations.”

LaBadie retrieved his briefcase from the floor and placed it on the center of the table. From it, he removed a stack of eight-by-ten glossy photographs taken from a casino surveillance camera. Each photo had the date and time stamped in the corner.

The gaming agent placed the top photo on the table so it faced Billy. It showed Ike standing at the cage, cashing in the fake gold chips. T-Bird was also in the shot, accompanied by Misty and Pepper in their disguises.