Rufus stopped rubbing his feet to give him a round of applause. It would have seemed sarcastic coming from anyone else, but from this old codger it meant something.
Thats damn good, Rufus
said, clapping.
Heres my theory about DeMarco, Rufus said. I know the cards in the game are being checked every night, and so far nothings come up, but maybe DeMarcos using a special luminous paint that grows invisible after a few hours.
No such thing exists, Valentine said.
Maybe someone invented it.
The snapshot of Rufus was lying on the coffee table. Valentine thought over what Rufus had told him about the scam in London.
You think theres a hole in the ceiling of the poker room, and someone is reading the cards, and signaling their values to DeMarco, Valentine said.
It would make sense, dont you think?
But how many times could they do that without people noticing? Valentine asked, having seen enough scams to know that what eventually doomed them was repetition. It would become obvious.
Yes, it would. Rufus stretched his arms and made the bones crack. But I learned a good lesson in jolly old England. You only have to cheat a man once in a poker game to get his money. Ive checked the ceiling of every poker room Ive ever played in since that little episode. He paused. Except here.
Checked how?
With a flashlight.
Do you have one with you?
Rufus flashed his best cowboy smile. I thought youd never ask.
7
Casinos never slept. It was the greatest thing they offered people who liked to gamble. At any hour of the day or night, you could enter one and make a wager. Old-timers called it the itch for play.
Casinos surveillance departments never slept, either. They watched the floor of the casino every minute of every hour, every day of the year. When President Kennedy was assassinated, one Las Vegas casino had stopped play for an hour in his memory, but the surveillance department had not stopped watching the casino.
Valentine knew he was taking a risk searching Celebritys poker room for holes in the ceiling, but it was a risk he was willing to take. Celebrity had surveillance cameras covering the poker room, but that didnt necessarily mean those cameras were being used. Surveillance technicians were trained to watch the money. Places where money didnt change hands were often neglected, or ignored.
Celebritys poker room was a good example. Tournament play ended at six oclock each night, with everyones chips stored in a safe and the room locked down until the next day. Since the opportunity for theft no longer existed, the technicians stopped watching the room. They might glance in from time to time, but chances were, they probably wouldnt.
Valentine and Rufus stood in the lobby in front of the poker room. Valentine had decided to pick the door and he eyeballed the lock. Hed used lock picks as a cop, and had kept them after hed gone to work for himself. His lock pick kit looked like an ordinary car key case, and contained a dozen picks made from tungsten steel. He unzipped the case, and chose the appropriate pick.
Youre a man after my own heart, Rufus said.
Valentine heard a whirring noise and stopped what he was doing.
What the hecks that? Rufus asked.
Acoustics in casinos could be deceiving. The lobby was empty, and Valentine decided the noise had come from behind the door. He grasped the doors handle, and to his surprise, found that it was unlocked.
This is our lucky day, Rufus said.
Putting his picks away, Valentine stuck his head in side. In the old days, casino poker rooms had been toilets, reeking of ashtrays and body odor. Televised poker tournaments had changed that. Celebritys poker room had thick carpet and cut-glass chandeliers the size of wrecking balls. He spied a team of Hispanic cleaning men vacuuming the floor with a level of enthusiasm you hardly saw anymore.
Follow me, and take off your hat, Valentine said.
Why?
Because I dont want anyone in surveillance who might be watching to see it and recognize you.
Got it. Rufus removed his Stetson.
Walking to the rooms center, Valentine took from his pocket Rufuss flashlight and twisted it on. He shone the light at the ceiling, then moved it back and forth in a slow, steady pattern. If what Rufus had alleged was trueand the cards at Skip DeMarcos table were marked with luminous paintthen someone was reading them while looking down from above. That someone had to be looking through red-tinted lenses, which would become reflective the moment his flashlight shone against them. The hidden accomplice in the ceiling trick. An old scam but still a good one.
After a minute his hopes came crashing to earth. No glitters had appeared in the ceiling, the pure white alabaster
not showing a single crack or imperfection.
Damn, he muttered.
No luck? Rufus asked from several tables away.
Valentines neck hurt from looking up, but he kept looking anyway.
No, and its pissing me off.
He twisted the flashlight off, returned it to his pocket. The cleaning men were racing around the room on their machines, making a game out of who could finish first. He saw Rufus take out a pack of cigarettes and light up.