Chapter 47
Cully, making his final plans to depose Gronevelt, could not think of himself as a traitor. Gronevelt would be taken care of, receive a huge sum of money for his interest in the hotel, be allowed to keep his living quarters suite. Everything would be as it had been before except that Gronevelt would no longer have any real power. Certainly Gronevelt would have “The Pencil.” He still had many friends who would come to the Xanadu to gamble. But since Gronevelt “Hosted” them, that would be a profitable courtesy.
Cully thought he would never have done this had Gronevelt not had his stroke. Since that stroke the Xanadu Hotel had slid downhill. Gronevelt had simply not been strong enough to act quickly and make the right decisions when necessary.
But still Cully felt some guilt. He remembered the years he had spent with Gronevelt. Gronevelt had been like a father to him. Gronevelt had helped him ascend to power. He had spent many happy days with Gronevelt listening to his stories, making the rounds of the casino. It had been a happy time. He had even given Gronevelt first shot at Carole, beautiful “Charlie Brown.” And for a moment he wondered where Charlie Brown was now, why she had run off with Osano, and then he remembered how he had met her.
Cully had always loved to accompany Gronevelt on his casino rounds, which Gronevelt would usually make around midnight, after dinner with friends or after a private dinner with a girl in his suite. Then Gronevelt would come down to the casino and tour his empire. Searching for signs of betrayal, spotting traitors or outside hustlers all trying to destroy his god, percentage.
Cully would walk beside him, noting how Gronevelt seemed to become stronger, more upright, the color in his cheeks better as if he took strength through the casino’s carpeted floor.
One night in the dice pit Gronevelt heard a player ask one of the dice croupiers what time it was. The dice croupier looked at his wristwatch and said, “I don’t know, it stopped.”
Gronevelt was immediately alert, staring at the croupier. The man had on a wristwatch with a black face, very large, very macho with chronometers in it, and Gronevelt said to the croupier, “Let me see your watch.”
The croupier looked startled for a moment and then thrust out his arm. Gronevelt held the croupier’s hand in his, looking at the watch, and then with the quick fingers of the born card mechanic he worked the wristwatch off the man’s arm. He smiled at the croupier. “I’ll hold this for you up in my office,” he said. “In an hour you can come up for it or you can be out of this casino. If you come up for it, I’ll give you an apology. Five hundred bucks’ worth.” Then Gronevelt turned away, still holding the watch.
Up in Gronevelt’s suite Gronevelt had shown Cully how the watch worked. That it was hollow and there was a slot in its top through which a chip could be slipped. Gronevelt easily took the watch apart with some little tools in his desk, and when it was open, there was a single solitary gold-flecked hundred-dollar black chip.
Gronevelt said musingly, “I wonder if he just used this watch himself or whether he rented it out to other shift workers. It’s not a bad idea, but it’s small potatoes. What could he take out on the shift? Three hundred, four hundred dollars.” Gronevelt shook his head. “Everybody should be like him. I’d never have to worry.”
Cully went back down to the casino. The pit boss told him that the croupier had resigned and already left the hotel.
That was the night that Cully met Charlie Brown. He saw her at the roulette wheel. A beautiful, slender blond girl with a face so innocent and young that he wondered if she was legally of age to gamble. He saw that she was dressed well, sexily but without any real flair. So he guessed that she was not from New York or Los Angeles, but from one of the Midwest cities.
Cully kept an eye on her as she played roulette. And then, when she wandered over to one of the blackjack tables, he followed her. He went into the pit behind the dealer. He saw she didn’t know how to play the percentages in blackjack, so he chatted with her, telling her when to hit and when to stick. She started making money, her pile of chips growing higher. She gave Cully plenty of encouragement when he asked if she was alone in town. She said no, she was with a girlfriend.
Cully gave her his card. It read, “Vice-president, Xanadu Hotel.” “If you want anything,” he said, “just call me. Would you like to go to our show tonight and have dinner as my guest?”
The girl said that would be marvelous. “Could it be for me and my girlfriend?”
Cully said, “OK.” He wrote something on the card before he gave it to her. He said, “Just show that to the maitre d’ before the dinner show, If you need anything else, give me a call.” Then he walked away.
Sure enough, after the dinner show he heard himself being paged. He picked up the call and he heard the girl’s voice.
“This is Carole,” the girl said.
Cully said, “I’d know your voice anywhere, Carole, you were the girl at the blackjack table.”
“Yes,” she said. “I just wanted to call and thank you. We had a marvelous time.”
“I’m glad,” Cully said. “And whenever you come into town, please call me and I’ll be happy to do anything I can for you. In fact, if you can’t get reservations for a room, call me and I’ll fix it for you.”
“Thank you,” Carole said. Her voice sounded a little disappointed.
“Wait a minute,” Cully said. “When are you leaving Vegas?”
“Tomorrow morning,” Carole said.
“Why don’t you let me buy you and your girlfriend a farewell drink?” Cully said. “It would be my pleasure.”
“That would be wonderful,” the girl said.
“OK,” Cully said. “I’ll meet you by the baccarat table.”
Carole’s friend was another pretty girl with dark hair and pretty breasts, dressed a little more conservatively than her friend. Cully didn’t push it. He bought them drinks at the casino lounge, found out that they came from Salt Lake City and, though they were not yet working at any job, they hoped to be models.
“Maybe I can help you,” Cully said. “I have friends in the business in Los Angeles and maybe we can get you two girls a start. Why don’t you call me in the middle of next week and I’m sure I’ll have something for you two either here or in Los Angeles?” And that’s how they left it for that night.
The next week, when Carole called him, he gave her the phone number of a modeling agency in Los Angeles where he had a friend, and told her she would almost surely get some kind of a job. She said she was coming into Vegas the following weekend, and Cully said, “Why don’t you stay at our hotel? I’ll comp you. It won’t cost you a penny.” Carole said she would be delighted.
That weekend everything fell into place. When Carole checked in, the desk called his office. He made sure there were flowers and fruit in her room, and then he called her and asked if she would like to have dinner with him. She was delighted. After dinner he took her to one of the shows on the Strip and to some of the other casinos to gamble. He explained to her he could not gamble at the Xanadu because his name was on the license. He gave her a hundred dollars to play blackjack and roulette. She squealed with delight. He kept a sharp eye on her and she didn’t try to slip any chips into her handbag, which meant she was a straight girl. He made sure that she would be impressed with the greetings he got from the maitre d’ at the hotel and pit bosses at the casinos. By the time the night was through Carole had to know that he was a very important man in Vegas. When they got back to the Xanadu, he said to her, “Would you like to see what a vice-president’s suite looks like?”