"Johnny Cattivo," read one of the floor men. "Twenty-two."
"Hey," said the other one, "there's a Cattivo in the Faustino mob. Any relation?"
"We had a breakup," said Heller. "We were wrenched apart."
The two men looked at Heller rather oddly. They gave him back the I.D. and walked off. I suddenly remembered Cattivo was one of the mob that had tried to kidnap Heller at the garage in Spreeport.
Meanwhile, a dopey croupier at table two suddenly realized he had paid Krak several times. He gave a signal to the man at the wheel. That one suddenly threw the ball in the opposite direction around the rim and quite obviously reached down to tamper with the result, probably a magnetic device under the table.
The number came up exactly where Krak had her money-on 5. Heller's system was even beating a crooked wheel!
Three men and a woman had caught on that Heller always won. They started placing bets alongside of his, riding his coattails.
Heller let it go that time and they all won. But the next time at the next table, still followed by the four, he put a thousand-dollar chip on the wrong number and with a great demonstration. It lost. They stopped following him.
Back and forth, back and forth. The big sacks were getting fuller and fuller.
There was a wait at one of the several cashier windows for Krak. Suddenly two armed guards rushed into the cage and handed the man there a flat case full of money. The cashier signed for it and then paid Krak.
Back and forth, back and forth. Win, win, win, win, win!
By half past five, each had a bulging sack. They met.
"This is hard work," the Countess said. "Can we go to dinner now? I got so involved, I didn't even hear Mamie sing. I've got these new boots on and my feet are killing me! I never knew before that winning all the time required that you walk fifty miles, too!"
Heller said, "All right. We'll refuel and get back at it again. I don't think there's more than half a million in each of these two bags. If we can push it to two million tonight, we'll have Izzy out of the woods."
"Won't they run out of money here?" said the Countess.
"I've seen them bringing some in from the bank or their other casinos," said Heller. "That's their problem. Let's eat."
Chapter 6
Mamie Boomp had already nailed down a big booth in the far corner of the large, posh dining room. She waved them over. They threw their sacks down on the semicircular red leather seat and sat down, one on either side of her.
"I didn't hear you sing," said the Countess.
"I didn't sing," said Mamie. "We're going on strike until we get paid. There's only thirty of us in the stage show but, Mafia or no Mafia, we can take them on. Four other casinos belong to the same crowd and they'll be walking out too, tomorrow. Let's eat. It may be a long time between pheasants under glass."
As they were a bit early, they had no trouble getting served. They had steamed clams and broiled lobster and Heller showed Krak how you used a fork and how you used a claw-cracker and a lobster meat pick. Mamie was so busy piling up the clamshells she didn't even notice that it might seem strange that Heavenly Joy Krackle from Sleepy Hollow, New York, thought it was pretty primitive not to have electric knives and suction-plunger tongs and proper spray cans to season the food correctly.
Krak was being a good sport about it. "If you kind of pretend you're camping out," she said, gesturing with a fork at the posh and ornate dining hall, "it's kind of fun. And this is delicious seafood. Do they cook it on the beach? I can taste the sea salts."
"It comes from the sea," said Heller.
"Really?" said Krak. "Not from proper tanks? Hey, now, they must have boat people that fish in the sea! Say, Jettero, I just remembered that there were some boat people that came with Prince Caucalsia. They must have settled here. That's why it's called Atlantic City. Mamie, you know all the answers. Is that a fact?"
"You bet I do know the answers," said Mamie. "That's why I'm advising you to order cherry tarts. I'm on a diet and have to watch my sweets. Call the waiter over, sailor. I'll have to content myself with half a coconut custard pie to wash down my coffee."
Finally, having attended fully to her diet, Mamie at last sank back with a sigh. "Well, the condemned enjoyed her last dinner, thanks to you, sailor. Now, tell me what you kids have been up to."
"I've worn myself out with walking," said the Countess Krak. "Never wear new boots when you're gambling, Mamie. Use some old gymnasium shoes."
Heller said, "Miss Boomp, how would you like to make some money?"
"Do bees prefer honey? What a silly question. What are you up to?" said Mamie.
"Ripping off the Atlantic City Mafia," said Heller.
"Goody," said Mamie. "Turnabout is fair play. Not only they haven't paid us, I could have had a job in pictures but I passed it up for this, and the winter season is a long time between jobs."
"All right," said Heller. "I have a list of the winning numbers for the rest of the night on roulette tables one, two and three in the casino upstairs. You bet them like Itell you and you can have ten percent of your winnings."
"Really? You some kind of a seer? You got a system?"
"I got a system," said Heller and told her how it worked and how to cash in every winning bet. He took out the pack of black garbage bags and tried to give her a thousand dollars for starting money.
But Mamie looked at the bulging sacks they had thrown on the seat beside them, opened one, peeked in and then extracted a fat fistful of bills. She shoved them into her bosom. Then she reached over and picked up the whole carton of garbage bags.
"Ten percent, eh?" said Mamie. "You got yourself a deal, sailor."
She got up and sped out of the dining room, not impeded in the least by her vast dinner.
The Countess got up. She picked up the two fat garbage sacks. Heller, who had already risen to let Mamie out, followed along behind her. She went ahead and got interested in some display photographs of Miss Americas who had won the Atlantic City beauty contest in former years.
Heller stepped up to the cashier counter with the check and was paying the bill. His change had just been laid out when his hands flashed suddenly.
He turned.
His left hand held the wrist of a waiter in a red jacket and that waiter held Heller's.45 automatic!
The waiter had lifted the weapon out of Heller's back belt holster!
But the.45 was being gripped by nerveless fingers.
Heller's left hand closed tighter. The.45 dropped into Heller's right hand.
The waiter-who probably was no waiter at all, judging by the silk shirt he wore-was staring at Heller with very agonized eyes. It was obvious that only the way Heller was supporting the wrist was keeping the man's knees from buckling.
"I didn't call for anything," said Heller smoothly. He slipped his gun back into its holster under his coat. Then he proceeded to pat the man's side and chest. He reached into the jacket and drew a handgun from a shoulder holster. He looked at it. It was a Taurus.38 Special double-action revolver, nickel plated. He gave the cylinder catch a flick with his thumb, let the cylinder swing out, checked the bullets and then, with a snap, all only with one hand, flipped the cylinder back into place.
"Thank you," said Heller, "for calling attention to the fact I'd dropped my gun." He put the Taurus in his own pocket.
"Your change, sir," said the cashier.
Heller was still holding the "waiter's" wrist. The man seemed paralyzed. Heller turned and picked a dollar bill out of the change. He put it in the paralyzed hand and then closed the man's fingers on it. Heller let go. The "waiter" went almost to his knees, recovered and in a zigzagcourse made his way back toward the kitchen.
Krak had gotten too far ahead to notice the action.
Heller joined her and they went up a wide, carpeted stairway to the mezzanine. They came to the place Heller had first chosen. There was no one else on this level but the casino floor below was swarming. An evening crowd, better dressed than tha
t of the afternoon and far more numerous, made a jostling kaleidoscope of color below.
"Look at that!" said the Countess Krak.
Over against the wall, on a high stool behind the backs of the croupiers at tables one, two and three, Mamie Boomp was sitting.
She had money in one hand and the lists for the tables in the other. And in a loose congregation around her were the show people. She was giving each one a series of numbers and the money to bet and to some she gave a black plastic bag.
SHE HAD THE FLOOR-SHOW PEOPLE WORKING!
Heller laughed. "That's quite a friend you've got there." He turned to Krak. "You see that corridor directly behind us? You put your money sacks down just inside it and you sit on them and rest your pretty feet. And I'm going to sit right here and watch the shearing of the wolves."
Chapter 7
The dice tables were crowded. The chuck-a-luck cages flipped. The endless rows of slot machines whirred. The keno numbers kept pouring through the speakers. But Heller's attention was mainly on the roulette tables below.
Round and round the little ball went and where it would stop, he and the floor-show people knew exactly. And there were always bets on the winning numbers.
Because there were so many floor-show people and because they kept changing, other players at the table did not get much chance to ride anyone's coattails.
The stream of actors to the cashiers' cages was a continuing circle. There seemed to be a young man who had more hair than face circulating along this line and Heller watched him.
Suddenly, the young man turned and came bounding up the mezzanine stairs. He was carrying a huge, black bag.
He paused near the rail, looked down and across the hall at Mamie and pointed to Heller. Mamie nodded.
The young man came closer. "So you're the sailor with the crystal ball," he said. "I'm Tom-Tom, the drummer of the Dingle-Poop Rock Band. They won't let me work the tables because I can't count above four. So I got the job of collecting the money and bringing it up here. Where do I put it, man?"
Heller pointed at Krak, sitting just inside the corridor at the back. She took it. Tom-Tom stood staring at her.
"Well?" said the Countess.
"Nothin", beggin' your pardon, but I was just surprised, kind of. I didn' know no Miss America was in on this deal. Excuse me. I'll be right back with more bread. Lots more."
She touched her collar. She said, "Jettero, why do so many girls have the same name here on this planet?"
The signal came through to Heller thirty feet in front of her at the mezzanine rail. He touched his collar and said, "It's probably some family they named the country after."
"Well, I was looking at some pictures of them down in the dining room foyer and two or three look a lot like some of the girls in Atalanta Province. Some of Prince Caucalsia's court must have brought their wives. Is this where he landed, Jettero?"
"He apparently landed on a continent out in that ocean and it got drowned when the poles melted or something. The survivors got to a place called Caucasus above Turkey and you can't go there because the Russians are holding them prisoner and won't let them defect."
"Well, some of them must have swum west and landed here, then," said Krak. "Thanks for clearing that up."
Heller had his eye on a side door of the casino. Some armed guards with cash boxes had just entered. They carried their burdens to the cashiers' cages. Money was evidently being brought in from the other casinos.
He returned to watching the floor-show people circulating past Mamie, to the roulette tables and to the cages and around again. Tom-Tom was collecting everything but their retained ten-percents. And here he came again with another huge sack of money. He went straight to Krak, gave it to her, gazed at her in awe and said "Jeez!" and rushed off again.
The Countess Krak said into her radio, "The people seem nice. I wonder why Prince Caucalsia's survivors couldn't bring more civilization with them when they swam here."
"Actually," said Heller, "it's a very tough coast to land on. Stands your hair on end to read about it. Which reminds me that you're sitting on four bags of money now and there will be more. My experience with these inhabitants tells me that somebody may try to rip us off. Look around and see if there's anyplace there to hide the money. Just a tactical precaution."
It was more than that. Heller's eye had singled out a couple of tough mugs, the same ones who had asked him for his I.D. The "waiter," now without his red coat, had come up to them and talked briefly, and the two mugs had looked up at the mezzanine at Heller.
Another bustle occurred at the side door. Armed guards were bringing more money to the cashiers' cages. Since the banks were closed, it must be coming only from the other casinos.
The Countess Krak went wandering down the short corridor, poking at the walls, trying to open doors.
Tom-Tom came racing up with another sack and she went to the mezzanine end and took it. He stared at her again and once more said "Jeez," and rushed off.
The Countess returned to her inspection. She found a large, square panel. It swung to the touch. She backed up. A small sign said Laundry Chute.
She touched the section. It was actually a flap door, hinged at the top. She poked her head in.
Straight down! At least sixty feet. It was a vertical duct, square, about four feet wide and as many deep. At the bottom was hard concrete, possibly a laundry room.
She came back and sat on the bags.
Heller was watching more armed guards at the door with money boxes. They were refilling the cashiers' cages.
The floor-show people were getting more efficient. Tom-Tom came racing up to the mezzanine, gave the Countess a sack, said his customary "Jeez," and raced away.
Heller had his eye on the clock. Gradually, it crept forward. More guards, bringing in money, more circulation of the floor-show-people lines. Round and round the little balls went on three tables, stopping exactly where predicted. Up came Tom-Tom time and again with more sacks and more exclamations of "Jeez."
The Countess Krak, as the clock crept on, was sitting on a higher and higher stack of bulging black bags.
Heller was watching more mugs on the floor being joined by more mugs.
An explosive situation was obviously building up.
At length, some armed guards came in at the side door and talked to a man in a tuxedo. The guards were empty-handed and shaking their heads. Another group of guards came in and did the same thing and left. The man in the tuxedo went over to one of the cashiers' cages and spoke to the cashier. They took some scraps of money, locked the cage and shifted the waiting line over to the next cage and combined the money left.
The little balls rolled with their unmistakable ringing sort of whir. The man in the tuxedo closed another cashier's cage, shunted the line. They were consolidating any remaining cash.
It was 10:18. The man in the tuxedo went rapidly to the three croupiers. Each said something to his roulette players. Each table did just one more spin. Chips were paid just one more time. Then green covers were tossed over the tables and the wheel.
It was 10:20!
The last keno number was called over the P. A. Then another voice came on.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the casino is closed!"
Chapter 8
The sounds of all games and devices faded out. The crowd, quiet for a moment or two, then began to talk and move toward the remaining open cashier's cage.
The line was very long. People were standing there in it, holding their chips. The man in the tuxedo and two additional cashiers were working hard to shovel in chips, hand out cash. The cage computer was a stuttering blur of flashing lights.
One more floor-show player was at the window. A cashier handed him all the bills he had left. Then he turned to the man in the tuxedo and said something. He turned back and began to write on a pad. He handed the floor-show player a slip of paper.
The P. A. suddenly opened up: "Ladies and gentlemen, we regret we have to announce that your c
hips will be taken in, in return for IOUs. Please be orderly."
There was a hubbub. But all three cashiers there began to accept chips and issue IOUs. Tough mugs patrolled up and down the customer line, looking grim.
A man came in from the street, some gambler in a violet-hued suit. He yelled, "The other casinos on the Boardwalk are shut! Somebody has broke the banks!" The guards rushed him out.
The P. A. said, "Ladies and gentlemen, be calm. Keep the line moving, please."
Tom-Tom raced up with his last bag of money, handed it to the Countess Krak, said "Jeez" one last time, and vanished.
The line, impressed by the tough mugs, moved rapidly, taking IOUs for their chips.
Heller was looking around a pillar and down the stairs. Two tough mugs were standing there. He looked up the long corridor that ran at right angles to the one the Countess Krak was sitting in. Two tough mugs were standing there. Heller looked along the mezzanine itself. At the far end, blocking any exit, were two more tough mugs. He had obviously waited too long. He was boxed!
The line below dwindled at the cashier's cage. Aside from tough mugs, the casino was more and more deserted. But the tough mugs were being added to, probably from other, now-closed casinos.
There were a lot of eyes on Heller on the mezzanine. Several tough mugs moved toward the bottom of the stairs.
"Dear," said Heller as he touched his collar, "did you find a place to hide the money?"
"Yes, dear."
"Well, I think you had better start working on it. I have a hunch certain people are not pleased."
There were just a few left at the cashier's window. It was pretty obvious the management wanted all the public witnesses safely out of the building and away.
I hugged myself. This was going to be juicy. I even began what kind of a surprised message I would have delivered to Heller and Krak in the hospital. And condolences. "Dear Jettero. I was amazed to discover that you were in the Atlantic City morgue...."
My attention was drawn to the Countess Krak. She was pitching bag after bag of money down the laundry chute! Oh, how obvious. That was the first place they would look! All the management had to do was go down to the laundry room and wheel it out!
Mission: Earth Fortune of Fear Page 12
