The combo slipped into a tortured version of ‘Radio Ga Ga’ that would have brought a tear to Freddie Mercury’s eye; and not just from copping a rather large one up the date either.
They had another two rounds of drinks and Les noticed the six men exit stage-right with one or two more sour glances in Kramer’s direction.
‘Well, what are we gonna do?’demanded Crystal, three double bourbons under her belt plus the champagne earlier. ‘Sit on our goddam butts all night? I’m feeling lucky.’
‘Yeah,’ agreed Kramer. ‘Let’s go kick some arse.’
They finished their drinks and moved into the casino.
So this is the ultra swish Neptune’s, is it? mused Norton, taking a look around. There were roulette wheels, baccarat tables, Black Jack, Sic Bo, people playing keno and other games spread out around green baize tables and green vinyl chairs under a chrome ceiling. A bank of electronic card machines ran around all this, plus several bars and waitresses in floral dresses moving around the punters and the croupiers in grey and white striped shirts with flat, red bow-ties. It was a fair sized area and the people were either seated or walking around while light music wafted down from the ceiling. Yes, it’s certainly different from the Kelly Club, thought Les, not all that interested. Half the cunts in here wouldn’t get in for a start. There were no good-looking hostesses in cocktail gowns and no well-dressed patrons. Half the punters wore un-ironed T-shirts tucked into daggy jeans and scruffy running shoes. Les even spotted a couple of chats in daggy track-suit pants. And I went to the trouble of ironing a shirt and polishing my shoes. I’ve been in better RSLs.
‘Well, what do you reckon, Les?’ said KK. ‘Bit of class for a change, old son.’
‘Yeah, terrific,’ nodded Les. ‘Who did they design the place after? Western Suburbs Leagues Club?’
Kramer was about to say something when Les thought he heard some bloke calling out ‘Banzai. Banzai’. Crystal heard it too.
‘Hey,’ she said. ‘Did I just hear some guy say, “Hands high. We’re rolling”?’ She looked to Norton’s right. ‘Hey, I did. That’s a goddam craps table over there.’
Les glanced over to where a group of people, mainly men, were throwing dice. ‘Can you shoot craps, Crystal?’ he asked.
‘Can I shoot craps?’ Crystal looked at Les. ‘Can Liz fuckin’ Taylor do the Bridal Waltz? Has Buddy Holly stopped wearing glasses. Let’s go.’
‘I’m going to play Black Jack,’ said Kramer. ‘Will you look after Crystal while I’m gone?’
Norton was about to say yes. Instead he took off after Crystal, who made a bee-line for the craps table.
Norton wasn’t all that familiar with craps. Price put a table in once, but it was too noisy, and worse, if the punters weren’t careful, they could actually win. Billy and Les had a bit of muck around at the thing and were starting to get the gist of it when Price pissed the craps table off. The betting system was a little like two-up, you bet against the house, and you could bet with or against the punter who was rolling. It was more fun, though, to be with the thrower and hope he’d get on a roll, because while he was winning you won, and the more he won the more you did too. There were other ways you could bet. Like Hard Ways, where you had to throw the same two numbered dice or One Roll Bets, where the dice have to come up exactly as you call them, and Points. But if you’re not throwing you just follow the roller, hope he or she wins, and make plenty of noise while you’re at it. Although it is a fun game and very popular in America, it’s rarely if ever played in Australia and there would be one craps table in a casino at the most. The closest thing in Australia to it would be Crown and Anchor.
There was a fair smattering of punters around the long, green table, if not actually a swarming throng. Crystal was standing near the win line. Naturally the game slowed up when she arrived on the scene; even if there was no display of cleavage in her white chef’s jacket, you couldn’t miss everything else. The boxman had just yelled, ‘New shooter. High low to bet,’ when his voice trailed off and the entire crew of dealers momentarily stopped. The assistant pit boss, in his grey suit and red tie, moved closer to the table as one of the crew, with one eye on Crystal called out. ‘Hands… high. And… we’re, we’re… rolling.’ Then the shooter rolled and, monstrous boobs or not, the game got itself back together because there was money involved.
Crystal took Norton’s elbow. ‘Here, do me a favour, Les,’ she said, opening her bag and pulling out a thousand dollars. ‘Get me some chips. And I don’t mean a carton of fuckin’ French fries either, you big, dumb Australian peckerwood. Tens and twenties.’
‘Certainly, oh sweet magnolia blossom,’ answered Les dryly. ‘How could one possibly refuse.’
Norton got the chips, returned to the craps table and handed them to Crystal, who was studying the roller. Although he’d established a point, Crystal soon figured he didn’t have much of an idea what he was doing so she shoved a stack of chips on the Don’t Come, meaning she could get in on the action without waiting for a new Come Out Roll to start. The roller threw, the boxman called out ‘Sixes came easy’. No one appeared to do all that well but a pile of chips got pushed in front of Crystal. She left them where they were, three more blokes threw and more chips got pushed in front of Crystal. Before long it was her turn to roll.
‘New shooter,’ called the assistant pit boss, moving closer again. ‘Lady’s going to throw.’
‘Hands high, hands high,’ yelled one of the pit crew.
Crystal pushed all the chips she’d won, plus some more, onto the win line. She smiled round the table at all the punters, rattled the dice next to her ear then blew into her hand and winked at Les. ‘Momma needs a new pair of shoes.’ There was a quick flick of her wrist and bang! Up it came. 6 and 5. Norton gave a double blink.
There was a general hoo-ha from around the table, the assistant pit boss clapped his hands. ‘And the lady is good.’
Crystal pushed all her chips onto the win line as the dice came back to her. Again she rattled them next to her ear, blew in her hand and winked at Les. ‘Gotta get mah man off welfare.’ Whack! Crystal did it again.
‘Oh yeah,’ cried the assistant pit boss. ‘Rattle them bones, lady.’
Norton scarcely had time to blink when Crystal moved her chips round the table and had the dice up next to her ear ready for a One Roll Bet. Again she winked at Les. ‘Devil’s in hell, pappy’s in heaven, looks like ahm gonna have to roll a seven.’ The dice flicked across the table and bingo! there it was, 4 and 3. There was a roar from the crowd, the assistant pit boss clapped his hands again; Norton shook his head and gave a double, treble blink. Crystal was on a roll. The best thing was so were all the punters that had followed her.
After that Crystal gave the dumbfounded Australians the biggest dice lesson they’d ever had, as Norton looked on in admiration. She made it look easy, rolling the dice and pushing chips all over the place, covering herself so that even if she lost she’d still win, and the place was coming alive with people now crowding round the craps table to see what was going on. Crystal would rattle the dice near her ear, blow into her hand some more and every time she’d throw come out with all this weird talk and corny sayings. Around her the Australians, if they weren’t cheering, just stood there with their mouths open catching flies.
‘Any you cats been to North Caroline? Well here’s how the ladies roll a nine.’ Crystal flicked her fingers again and zap! 5 and 4 bounced off the end of the table to land right on top of the C and E in the COME lane. ‘Slam bam, thank you ma’am.’ Crystal raked in more chips.
Norton stood with the rest of the mob, staring around like a stunned mullet, then he cursed himself. If Crystal hadn’t taken him by surprise he would have got in on the action too. Then Crystal started to strut.
She wiggled her boobs and played for the crowd. ‘Brother’s a pimp, sister’s a whore, looks like I’m gonna have to roll a four.’ Ping! As sweet you like — 3 and 1. ‘Ah don’t pick cotton and ah don’t talk jive.
Now watch this, suckers, while I roll a five.’ Two and 3 flipped over. The crowd howled. Crystal shoved more chips around. ‘Boxcars’ she cried out, and up came a pair of sixes. The crowd yelled for more, even Norton started to clap. Then as suddenly as she started, Crystal stopped. ‘You gotta know when to hold ‘em. Know when to fold ’em.’ She pushed the dice back towards the boxman. Then she smiled round the table. ‘See you next time I’m in town — suckers. Help me out here, Les.’
Seeing Norton was still on KK’s time, what could he do? He helped Crystal scoop up the pile of chips, then went over and cashed them; twenty-six thousand dollars. Crystal dropped the money in her bag, picking out a thousand dollars which she handed to Les.
‘Here, handsome, get yourself a new toothbrush.’
Norton looked at the roll of hundreds for a second. ‘Thanks. I will,’ he said, and put it in his pocket.
‘That crap ain’t worth taking back to the States anyway. Just don’t tell my mockey boyfriend,’ she added with a wink.
‘Good as gold,’ answered Les.
Norton ordered a couple of drinks, paid for them and they stood around quietly waiting for KK. Crystal had a look on her face, not like a cat that just drank all the cream: a fox. The hand holding her drink seemed to be shaking just a little and if Les wasn’t mistaken a lot of adrenalin was pumping through the American girl from the South. Still, why wouldn’t you be on a high after winning twenty-six grand? mused Les. He was trying to work out her facial expressions, however, when Kramer returned. Unlike Crystal’s, Kramer’s face looked like a piece of chewing gum someone had just stepped off on a hot footpath.
‘How did you go, KK?’ said Norton, knowing he needn’t have bothered to ask.
‘I could’ve done better,’ he muttered, then looked at Crystal. ‘What about you.’
Crystal shrugged delicately. ‘I ended up about even.’
Kramer’s hang-dog expression didn’t change. ‘What do you want to do now?’
‘I ain’t fussy, honey,’ replied Crystal.
‘I reckon we may as well piss off. I want to see a bloke for a minute and have a couple of drinks, then go home. I don’t fancy a late night.’
‘What ever you say, lambchop.’ Crystal reached across and gently kissed Kramer’s cheek.
Les and Crystal half finished their drinks then filed out of the casino to the stares and silent applause of the crowd, the punters who had followed Crystal, and the pit crew; it would be a long time before they’d ever see anything like that again. Tony was waiting right outside the door with the limo. Shit, that was quick, thought Les. Has Tony got ESP? Then as they climbed in the back, Les noticed for the first time the tiny beeper on Kramer’s belt. He simply tapped it and Tony knew exactly when to be out the front of wherever they were. Crystal told the driver to stop on the bridge they crossed over on the way in, she wanted to get some air.
It was quiet and cool in the back of the limo, Kramer especially. The silence was broken by Crystal taking in a deep breath and letting it out again.
‘Well, I guess I won’t be needing these anymore,’ she said.
Crystal slipped her hand up her sleeve and pulled out two dice using her index and middle finger. She rolled them into the palm of her hand then eased them up onto her knuckles and rolled them backwards and forwards across the back of her fingers. Smoothly and easily she passed her left hand over her right and the dice disappeared. She turned her empty hands over a couple of times then flipped a dice up onto the back of each hand where she’d had them hidden in the crooks of her thumbs.
‘You ever heard of the Baton Rouge Roll, boy?’ smiled Crystal. Very, very slowly, Norton shook his head. ‘No. You ain’t from round these parts, are you, boy? In fact where are you Aussies from, boy?’ Again Norton was forced to shake his head. Crystal held the dice up to the light. ‘Ain’t it just amazin’ what a li’l ’ol bit of clear nail-polish will do.’
Norton noticed a shiny slick down one side of each dice. ‘Did you switch the dice?’ he asked, then wished he’d never opened his mouth.
‘No, Les, I squirted them out of my pussy. Don’t ever come to the South, boy. Folks there’ll have you wonderin’ which way is up.’ Crystal tugged at her cuff. ‘I had a little binny up my sleeve. Like the rest of them Aussie meatheads in there, you were all too busy watching my boobs instead of my hands.’ She gave her boobs a bit of shake. ‘Gotta make the best of what you got, boy.’
The limo stopped on the bridge, Crystal got out, took a couple of deep breaths and had a look around. She shook the dice next to her ear again then blew into her hand. ‘Momma likes to hump. Poppa likes head. But momma’s little baby likes shortenin’ bread.’ She flicked her wrist and the two dice disappeared into the river. ‘How about that. Snakes eyes.’
Back in the limo Crystal snuggled up to KK. ‘Where to now, darlin’?’ she mooched.
‘A place in Cavill Avenue called CJ’s.’ Kramer looked evenly down at Crystal. ‘So you just broke even, did you?’
‘Would I lie to you, honey? Why, Kelvin, I declare.’
Well, I bloodywell declare too, thought Norton. What a sheila. How much balls must she have to put on an act like that, then switch the dice right under everyone’s noses in the middle of a dice game in one of Australia’ biggest casinos. No matter what he thought about Crystal and the abysmal way she spoke to him and just about everybody else, Norton now had a definite admiration for the girl from the South. And she knew to get out when she was in front too. It was certainly worth a word or two with Price and the rest of the boys when he got back to Sydney. Yes, Crystal baby, you might have a giant pair of tits but you’ve also got bigger balls than a lot of blokes I know, Les repeated to himself as he watched her open her bag and slip Kramer a roll of bills.
CJ’s was a small nightclub Les had noticed earlier, just down from the post office in Cavill Avenue. It was all black and white and smoked glass out the front with ‘CJ’s Night Spot’ in white across a grey background over the top. The club was two storeys above the shops and an arcade, where a short flight of stairs led into the arcade with the entrance at the rear.
The limo pulled up out the front and the passing swarm of punters stopped to see who it was, but before they had much chance Les had KK and Crystal up the stairs and halfway down the arcade. There was a skinny sort of bloke on a desk at the entrance who just had time to give KK the usual big welcome before they bowled past about half a dozen people waiting to get in. They filed up the stairs past a bar on one level overlooking Cavill Avenue, up another flight into the disco. The decor was black carpet and black wallpaper with long wall mirrors in between. The half-packed dancefloor was on your right as you walked in where the punters were giving it heaps to Sex Industry’s version of ‘Jail Break’ under the strobe and spinning lights. A long bar started opposite and just past the dancefloor cornered off, splitting the club almost into two sections. There was no shortage of chairs and tables and a kind of lounge ran round the wall underneath the mirrors where more people were sitting, drinking and talking. Two hundred would have packed the place; there would have been a little over a hundred in there. For some reason Norton liked the place as soon as he walked in. It wasn’t too big or too small, it wasn’t smoky or gloomy and the punters looked all right too, well dressed and not blithering drunk. Maybe the sign he noticed as they walked in saying ‘Patrons Must Be 21’ had something to do with it.
There was a bit of a sticky-beak in their direction at first then everybody seemed more interested in what they were doing; having a few drinks, boogying around or chatting up girls or vice versa. Les and Crystal waited just past the dancefloor as KK went to the bar. Norton watched as the barmaid shook KK’s hand, listened to him for a moment, shook his head, listened again then got some drinks. While they were waiting, Les checked out some of the punters then had to smile to himself. Did I say something about not a bad clientele? Standing a few metres away in their yellow shirts were the same bunch of blokes Les had noticed on the plane. T
he Mac’s Head Muff Divers. There were about ten of them and they even had a couple of blowsy looking blondes in tow. Jesus! I hope they don’t go mad when they lamp Crystal’s tits, thought Les. They were a pretty big bunch. But they seemed happy enough, throwing down the VBs, slapping each other on the back and laughing uproariously at everything and nothing. KK returned with the same three drinks they’d had at the Azmuth Lounge.
‘Colby’s not here,’ he said, sounding a little disappointed as he handed them their drinks.
‘That the owner you were supposed to meet?’ said Les.
‘Yeah. Colby Jones. I wanted to see him too.”
‘Ah well, it don’t matter,’ said Norton, taking a sip of his drink. ‘He might turn up. Have a couple here anyway.’ Norton also noticed quite a number of girls standing around; not bad sorts and not doing much except slew around, and one or two eyes slewed in Norton’s direction. ‘This isn’t a bad little place.’
‘Yeah,’ agreed Crystal. ‘I like it here.’
‘Okay,’ shrugged Kramer. ‘We’ll have a couple of drinks. Why not?’
They decided to move a little further away from the dancefloor. All the chairs and tables were full and they finished up somewhere between the bar and the Mac’s Head Muff Divers. The DJ threw on ‘Some People’ by James Reyne and if KK wasn’t in the best mood, Les was and so was Crystal. Norton was just about to ask her for a dance, mainly because he felt like it and also so he could say he’d danced with Crystal Linx, when he spotted something out the corner of his eye that sent a squirt of adrenalin into the pit of his stomach. It was the same team he’d spotted in the Azmuth Lounge: even in the soft light of the disco there was no mistaking their builds and presence, especially the one with the thick hair. They’d already noticed Kramer and if the looks in the casino were a little on the sour side, here they were positively rancid. Shit! This is lovely, thought Norton. Something’s definitely not quite kosher here.
White Shoes, White Lines and Blackie Page 13
