Karen Farmer had called the police and confessed. While being questioned, she had recounted eating dinner with Bronco in Sacramento two nights before, and Bronco paying with a credit card. The waitress had mistakenly presented the card to her husband, and Karen had noticed a different name on the card. Frank Revel.
Using that single piece of information, the police had tracked Bronco to a motel in Reno, and arrested him. While searching Bronco’s car, they had discovered a box of disguises, weapons, a welding kit used to make keys, and a diary with detailed notes about ten slot machine jackpots stolen from Nevada casinos in the past three years.
The second report had been written by Fred Friendly, the director of the Nevada Gaming Control Board’s Electronic Systems Division. The GCB was required to keep records of every jackpot paid out in the state, and Friendly had examined the ten jackpot thefts recorded in Bronco’s diary, and discovered four similarities.
1) All ten rip-offs had occurred in small, out-of-the-way casinos, where surveillance was less stringent than the state’s larger casinos.
2) Each jackpot was for one million dollars.
3) Each machine was a refurbished electro-magnetic model. By law, refurbs were not allowed in casinos, but some casinos used them instead of buying new machines in an effort to cut costs.
4) Each rip-off had occurred during a shift change in the casino’s surveillance control room, when the techs were less likely to notice theft.
The third report was a transcript of a meeting that had taken place between Bill Higgins and Bronco’s attorney, a mob-connected reptile named Kyle Garrow.
Garrow: “Bronco wants to cut a deal.”
Higgins: “No deals.”
Garrow: “Bronco has information that could destroy the gambling business in Nevada.”
Higgins: “Give me a break.”
Garrow: “I’m dead serious.”
Higgins: “You’ve got two minutes. Talk.”
Garrow: “Three years ago, Bronco was casing a casino when he spotted someone stealing a jackpot. He introduced himself, and the two became friends.”
Higgins: “How touching.”
Garrow: “The other cheater was an agent with the Nevada Gaming Control Board.”
Higgins: “An agent in my department?”
Garrow: “That’s right. Want to extend that two minutes?”
Higgins: “Keep talking.”
Garrow: “Bronco and this agent entered into an arrangement. Bronco taught this agent how to play the game. You know, pick dead times to beat the eye-in-the-sky, that sort of thing.”
Higgins: “What did Bronco receive in return?”
Garrow: “The agent told Bronco where all the refurbs were in the state. The agent knew the exact location of every one.”
Higgins: “Does Bronco know how many jackpots this agent has stolen?”
Garrow: “Hundreds. Maybe more.”
Higgins: “That’s (expletive deleted) and you know it.”
Garrow: “No, it’s not. The agent is stealing jackpots under ten grand so he doesn’t have to report them to the IRS. He’s flying under the radar.”
Higgins: “Keep talking.”
Garrow: “Bronco says your agent has developed a unique method of corrupting slot machines. I’m not talking old machines, either.”
Higgins: “Is this agent stealing jackpots himself?”
Garrow: “No. He’s using claimers.”
Higgins: “Different claimers for each jackpot?”
Garrow: “Yes. He recruits them.”
Higgins: “Let me get this straight. He’s corrupted hundreds of people to claim the money?”
Garrow: “That’s right.”
Higgins: “That’s (expletive deleted) and you know it.”
Garrow: “No, it’s not. Bronco taught him how to do it. Look at Bo and Karen Farmer. Neither has a criminal record, yet Bronco got them to help him rip off the Cal Neva.”
Higgins: “How does Bronco do that?”
Garrow: “I honestly don’t know.”
Higgins: “And Bronco is willing to give this agent up, provided we let him go.”
Garrow: “That’s the deal. Take it, or leave it.”
Valentine shut down his computer, and watched the screen become an iridescent blue dot. What Garrow was claiming was pure bull. Modern slot machines couldn’t be corrupted into paying off jackpots. They were sophisticated computers that had more anti-theft safeguards than most banks. At the heart of these computers were random number generator chips, called RNGs, which cycled hundreds of numbers per second, and selected jackpots. They were impossible to corrupt.
His stomach growled. The day he’d lost his wife, he’d stopped eating right. Yolanda was good about feeding him, but he tried not to make himself a regular at Gerry’s table. His son and his wife needed their space.
He decided on hot dogs, and was boiling water on the stove when he spied a note stuck to the refrigerator. It was from Mabel, informing him she’d left pot roast and mashed potatoes in the fridge. He tried to remember the last time he’d eaten homemade pot roast. It seemed like a hundred years ago.
He heated the food in the microwave, then ate with the sports section spread before him. Something was bothering him, and his eyes would not focus on the page.
Picking up his plate, he returned to his study.
Sitting at his computer, he retrieved the transcript of Bill and Garrow’s meeting. His brain had always been good at finding things that didn’t make sense, and turning those things inside-out. He stared at the screen.
Higgins: “Let me get this straight. He’s corrupted hundreds of people to claim the money.”
Garrow: “That’s right.”
Higgins: “That’s (expletive deleted) and you know it.”
It sounded familiar. Opening his desk drawer, he removed a stack of letters, and sorted through them. Lucy Price had written him weekly since going to prison nine months ago. Although he’d accepted that a relationship between them wouldn’t work, he still cared deeply about her. He found the letter he was looking for, and stared at Lucy’s flowing script.
I’m seeing a counselor several times a week to address my gambling problem. We talk about a lot of things that I would rather not dredge up, like how I left my children locked in the car so I could play the slots inside a casino, or lied to my ex about having my purse stolen when in fact I’d lost the money on slots.
The thing I am most ashamed of is that I once knowingly helped a man who was probably a cheater. This man approached me in a casino bar, and asked me to play a particular machine for him. He was a smooth-talker, and claimed he’d discovered a way to tell when a slot was going to pay a jackpot. I played the machine he directed me to, and it paid off $9,800. He let me keep 20%. I told my counselor about this, because it has bothered me for a long time. My counselor thinks this man was a nut, and probably just coming on to me. He also thinks it was luck that I hit the jackpot. I hope he’s right. I’d hate to think I ripped off a casino, along with all the other things I’ve done.
Valentine shook his head. It would be easy to dismiss the man who’d approached Lucy as a masher, only the slot machine he’d asked Lucy to play hadpaid off, and Lucy had sensed that something was wrong. The man had somehow rigged the machine, andtalked Lucy into being his claimer. Which meant that everything Bronco’s lawyer had told Bill Higgins was true.
“Jesus Christ,” he said.
Chapter 6
Gerry Valentine had been gambling since he was ten. Ever since he could remember, placing a bet had gotten his adrenaline pumping, and made him feel good all over.
Until today.
He was sitting at his kitchen table with Yolanda, eating take-out Chinese food from paper cartons. Back when he was a kid, his family had eaten Chinese food this way. Yolanda found it funny but went along with the ritual. Maybe that was why he loved her so much. She put up with his nonsense.