The CrimeLords' War (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 7)

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The CrimeLords' War (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 7) Page 6

by Liza O'Connor

Vic frowned. “But Tubs said croupiers could take bribes to favor a person.”

  Samson sighed. “Yes, with the use of magnets, a means to manipulate the magnetic force and a steel core ball, a skilled croupier can place the ball in whatever pocket he wants. However, this table is not magnetized, and the balls are not steel cored.”

  David scratched his chin. “But I believe that is how they are doing it.”

  “That’s not possible. There are no magnets or steel on this table.”

  Vic smiled at David. “You think the customers are bringing in their own magnets and have created their own switch to manipulate the ball.”

  He nodded. “While it would probably take me forever to get the ball to go where I wanted, I could easily create the rest.”

  “But the balls aren’t steel lined,” Samson insisted.

  “What you mean is that you don’t buy steel lined balls,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean someone isn’t buying them and performing a sleight of hand switch.”

  David agreed. “The ball is easy to switch out.” He pulled a ball from the table and marked it with an X. “Now get another ball and show me how it’s handled.”

  Samson went to the office and returned with a ball. He placed it on the wheel. “It remains in sight all the time.”

  “It never flies off?” David challenged.

  Samson’s brow furrowed. “On occasion…” A frightening rage overcame him, which caused Vic and David to step away from him.

  Vic knew why. “The ball has been flying off before the table goes lucky.”

  Samson nodded.

  “Is there some way to force a ball to fly off?” Vic asked.

  “Yes, create a distraction while someone blows air at the ball through a straw. God Damn it! This would never work at other casinos, but because I wanted to offer a fair table, these bastards took advantage of me.”

  Vic recovered from the frightening change in Samson and gripped his arm. “It’s all right. You just got smarter than them. All you need to do to fix this is place a thick wood covering on the bottom of your table.”

  David smiled at Vic. “That should do it. They are presently using a clamp to attach the magnets to the ridge on the bottom of the wheel.” He waved Samson down beneath the table. “On your removed table, there were significant scratches on these wood pieces. No doubt from attaching and removing the clamps which must either be magnetized or have magnets attached to them. If I were making this, I would do the first. If your clamp is your magnet, you never have to worry about it falling off. However, it would have to be a very strong magnet which means they are probably electronically induced magnets that require recharging after about an hour.”

  Samson sighed and shook his head. “The good luck only last about an hour, but by then, everyone at the table has walked away a winner.” He slammed his fist into his palm. “Not tonight.”

  Vic worried he might toss every winner into the Thames. “Samson, just because they win tonight won’t mean they are part of the theft. An innocent person could just be playing on someone else’s luck.”

  “Also, if you just pick up the people at the table, you’ll probably miss the one who set up and oversees this clever theft,” David added.

  Samson frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “He could be standing eight feet away, or better yet, up there on the balcony. In fact, if this were my scam, that’s where I would stand. Gives me a great view of all tables at once. And no one will notice me at all.”

  “But how would he communicate with his men? I assure you my people would notice any hand signals,” Samson asked.

  David rubbed his chin then smiled. “He can communicate by invisible means.”

  “Explain!” Samson barked.

  “An Italian named Guglielmo Marconi has created a wireless messaging system to be used by ships and other places not easily accessible to running wire. It’s like a telegraph sent in a cryptic language called Morse Code over airwaves. Perhaps your fellow has come up with something similar but smaller in scope. Marconi is focused on long range transmissions, which requires substantial equipment. But it might be possible to make a small device if the code is simple and only has to travel a very short distance. The transmitter might even fit in a fellow’s pocket.”

  “But how would the fellow hear anything in this noisy environment?” Vic asked.

  “Good question.” David mulled the matter further. “Perhaps the fellow at the table doesn’t hear it, rather he feels the vibrations on the device in his pocket. If the code is simple enough, it might work.”

  “Why would they require a mastermind at all? You’ve prove they have my tables rigged so why do they need an overseer?” Samson asked.

  “If the same four people kept winning at your tables for a month, I’m assuming you would notice.”

  “I would notice within a half hour,” Samson snapped.

  “Which is why everyone at the table seems to be lucky.”

  “Yes, but they are not winning all the time, just enough to make it seem like a they’re having a bit of luck.”

  “And to create such an event, you need a conductor, who can pull back a player if he’s getting too lucky and send him to a different table while someone else takes his chair or have him leave entirely as someone else takes his place. Immediate calculations of this nature requires a mathematical mind who knows the probabilities of winning and the reasonable space he has to work within before your croupiers notice.”

  Samson stared at the balcony then at Vic. “I’ve a very big favor to ask.”

  “You want us to stay and help you identify your thieves.”

  He nodded and looked at Vic. “Only you will need to be in disguise because someone on my staff is probably involved and they’ll know who you are.” He glanced at David. “You’re fine. No one will know you.”

  Vic didn’t want David to feel left out. “But if you want a disguise I can get you one, only I should warn you, they aren’t as fun as you think.”

  David smiled from ear to ear. “I’m in, but if Claire finds out about this, then you have to be my alibi.”

  Vic nodded.

  “Even if that means Xavier finding out you’ve blatantly disobeyed him.”

  Vic growled. “He is not my master. We are equal partners.” She looked at Samson, who seemed most interested in David’s comment.

  “I will need you to swing by a house in Cheapside so I can get a disguise.”

  “It needs to be a good one,” Samson warned.

  “No one will have any idea it’s me,” she promised.

  ***

  When Vic left the Cheapside house dressed as a sensual redhead and entered the carriage, both David and Samson stared at her in shock. Samson leaned forward. “My dear, I appreciate the offer, but we are waiting on our friend and then must be off.”

  “Then let’s be off,” Vic replied and laughed. “It’s me.”

  David’s eyes rounded. “Vic?”

  “In disguise.” She smiled at Samson. “Any chance I’ll be recognized?”

  “None whatsoever,” he replied, his eyes frighteningly tense. “However, I dare not leave you with David, or some bloke will run off with you.” He glanced at David. “No offense, but down here you need muscle to keep a woman like this.”

  David held up his hands in surrender. “I agree.” He then leaned forward. “Vic, I don’t think this is a very good idea. Couldn’t you find a better disguise…maybe an old man?”

  Samson spoke before she could. “No, in such a disguise, I can keep her close to my side and no one will find it in the least bit strange. Nor our propensity to watch rather than play.” He smiled. “It is the perfect deception for the night.”

  When they arrived back at the casino, the place had a very different feel, now filled with employees rushing about getting ready for the doors to open. The manager greeted Samson, looking a bit nervous. “It’s good to see you, sir. Did you wish a table?”

  “No, I’m here because
my lovely lady and her brother wish to see a casino.”

  The man nodded and nervously glanced across the room. “Well, if there is anything I can do to improve your evening, let me know.”

  Once he had left, Vic leaned in seductively and whispered in Samson’s ear, “My name is Tally Whisper, I was the back-up actress for Ebson’s play, but currently I am out of work, which is why I am here with my brother, David Collins.”

  He chuckled as if she had said something funny and pulled her closer to him.

  “As her protective brother, could you not hold her quite so tightly,” David softly scolded.

  Vic laughed and pushed out of Samson’s arms and took hold of David’s. “My chaperone.”

  Samson growled but offered his arm to her, which after a moment of hesitation she took.

  “I’ll show you the back areas now. The lucky tables don’t normally turn until ten or so.” He snapped to get the bartender’s attention. “Sam, drinks are free for my friend, David,” he yelled.

  “Thanks, but all the same I’ll stay sober and with Tally. She’s the only sister I have. My parents would never forgive me if I let something happen to her.”

  Vic laughed and took David’s arm too. “That is true. Father is very protective of me. He believes I’m a trouble magnet.”

  “You are a trouble magnet,” David replied in clear annoyance.

  “That must make you trouble,” she teased Samson.

  His dark brown eyes captured hers. “Me? Not tonight. Tonight I am a man on a mission.”

  “As long as the mission is not seducing my sister,” David hissed beneath his breath.

  “You have a very possessive family,” Samson complained.

  “I do,” she agreed happily.

  David whispered, “And some of them are not going to be pleased with you coming here tonight, nor the way you are behaving.”

  Samson chuckled and spoke softly in her ear. “My God, he is truly like a protective brother.”

  “Well perhaps if you stop behaving like a lion eyeing a lamb, he will cease his over-protectiveness,” she suggested.

  For a moment she saw pain in Samson’s eyes, quickly masked as he stepped back, holding hands up in surrender. “For now I will refrain from touching you. However, when the place becomes crowded, I will have no choice. Otherwise, a diamond such as you will be carried off.”

  “Fair enough,” she said. She then smiled at David. “You can hold my other hand if you wish.”

  David frowned. “I don’t think Claire would appreciate me being seen holding another woman’s hand, even if that hand proved to be yours.”

  Vic nodded in agreement and smiled at Samson. “Then the job falls solely upon your broad shoulders.”

  “I will keep you safe,” he promised and pressed his mouth close to her ear, breathing out before he spoke. “As long as you let me.”

  The warm air intimate air sent her stomach into flutters. Dear God, this was like the time Jacko had kissed her during an investigation, possibly even worse.

  Damn it Xavier. Why did you have to run off?

  Chapter 7

  By nine, the casino was packed. “Is this crowd typical?” Vic asked. If it was, then their drinks and food revenue should be higher.

  “No. This is more crowded than normal.” He caught the attention of the floor manager and motioned him over. Fifteen minutes later the man had managed to push through the crowd.

  “Yes, sir?” the man asked, leaning close to Samson to be heard.

  “Any idea why this place is so crowded?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve no idea.”

  “If you find out, let me know.”

  The man nodded and hurried to a croupier motioning for him.

  “Let’s watch from upstairs. This place is a crush.”

  Vic sighed in relief as they took the back stairs up to the second floor. As they walked down a long hallway with doors on each side, Vic asked Samson what the rooms were for.

  “Private rooms.”

  “Private rooms for whom and what purpose?” Samson’s ledgers made no indication that the casinos had rooms for prostitution.

  “They are called private rooms because who uses them and for what purpose remains private.”

  She frowned at his poor reply.

  He sighed. “Most rooms are purchased by a wealthy gentleman who has brought a woman to the casino and wishes a pleasant respite from the noise and crowd below.”

  “You mean a place to make love.”

  “Not sure if love is normally involved, but frequently sex is on the menu.”

  “And how do you stop them from bringing children upstairs?” she whispered.

  He kissed her hand. “My floor manager has strict orders to not allow children into the casino or upstairs.

  She rewarded him with a smile. “Thank you.”

  Finally, they made their way to the balcony. Already seven other people stood on the thirty-foot-long balcony. Samson led her to a section above the roulette table. “This should give you a good view of the casino. I am honored to teach you how to play the tables. Point to whatever table you wish to learn.”

  “The one with the pretty wheel,” she declared.

  Samson wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck. “You are most adorable.”

  Again with the stomach flutters. She greatly wished to elbow him in the stomach to make him stop holding her to his body so tight. However, one or more of the men on this balcony were probably thieves, so she could only play her role, as Samson played his.

  “Could you not hold my sister quite so tight,” David complained.

  Samson sighed and relaxed his grip. “Can you breathe now, my love?”

  “Yes, thank you. My brother takes very good care of me.”

  Samson sighed heavily. “Perhaps tomorrow night you can leave him at home?”

  “Not likely,” David snapped.

  “You two stop fighting.” She then leaned her head back and stared up at Samson. “You have yet to teach me about the pretty wheel table.”

  “Well, first of all it’s called a roulette table.”

  Vic pulled out a pencil and small notebook and wrote her observations for Samson to read as anyone else would assume she was taking notes on his tedious explanations on how to play the tables.

  Twenty minutes later, the ball flew off the table. Vic moved so quickly that she was halfway down the private rooms hall when Samson snared her. He pulled her into his arms and whispered in her ear. “What are you doing?”

  “Giving the thief a chance to take our place on the balcony. Look, he’s already moved over.” Vic smiled with satisfaction.

  Before she knew something was wrong, Samson’s mouth came down upon hers. Her whole body threatened to melt in a puddle. She frantically pushed him away, only to feel a seething rage coming from an open door further down the hall. She looked at the blonde aristocrat glaring at her. While she had never seen him, nor the elegant woman in his arms, the suit she recognized. It was the tuxedo Xavier had bought a couple years back to have breakfast with the Queen.

  Samson moved her to the balcony. She wanted to look back, to be certain the arrogant, blond aristocrat was indeed her missing partner. Her sickened gut told her it had been Xavier and only the fact he was on a mission prevented him from wringing her neck. He couldn’t possibly be angry about Samson’s kiss. Jacko had kissed her far more intimately and Xavier had assured her it was nothing. While on a case, playing a part, these things would sometimes happen.

  She wondered if such things were happening even now with the pretty woman in Xavier’s arms.

  Surveillance, my ass!

  “Are you all right?” Samson whispered.

  She had to put all her worries away and identify all the miscreants deserving of having their arms broken.

  When the luck changed on the table, ‘Tilly’ got so excited she fell against the man beside them, sending them both to the floor. Samson apologized to the angry fellow up to the point
the fellow shoved ‘Tilly’. Then Samson hit the guy in the chin hard enough to knock him out cold.

  “Stop!” she cried. “I fell into him. He had every reason to be angry.”

  Samson sighed. “I would have let him alone had he not touched you.”

  She moved her angry protector into the hall again, hoping if any of the others were working with the fellow, they’d come to his rescue, if for no other reason than to retrieve the control device.

  She softly explained her hope in what would hopefully appear to any observers to be a quiet fight.

  When the young guy from the end reached into the man’s pocket Samson kissed her again, but this kiss seemed more of a reward for being so clever. She liked rewards.

  They returned to the balcony. Bad luck that had come to the table when she took out the cranky guy had gone away again. From the balcony, Samson caught someone’s attention below. A few minutes later, two muscular men entered the balcony and tried to remove the unconscious guy.

  “Hold on. Where are you taking him?” a third man demanded.

  “Is he a friend of yours?” the muscle asked.

  The man paused. “No, but I’d still like to know what you are planning to do with him.”

  “We’re going to put him in a private room and let him sleep it off.”

  “Yes, of course. Carry on,” he stated and watched the men carry the man to the first room and put him in. When they locked the door upon leaving, the man challenged them. “You’ve no right to lock him up.”

  All but three of the men on the balcony turned to watch the battle between Mr. Rights and the two muscles. The main muscle shook his head and unlocked the door. Before the interfering man could even smirk, he was tossed inside. The second muscle followed him in, and a moment later, Samson’s man exited the room and the door was locked once again.

  Ignoring the young man on the far side of the balcony since he was certainly a thief, given he had the control box, ‘Tilly’ wiggled out of Samson’s grip and up to David. “The guy on the right, watching matters so intently, does he look familiar to you? I seem to remember him from Oxford.”

  David glanced up. “Jackson?” he asked as he walked up to the fellow.

 

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