“Looks like it, yeah. One-to-one. Her pile's growing though.”
“What do you think, sir?” Terry comes up from behind me, having quickly taken care of the security task. He takes off his round glasses and polishes them with a handkerchief, blinking quickly. He stares at the screen for a second before turning to me. “Want to move that money off the main floor?”
“Let her hit half-a-mil. Then let’s get a plant down there. I want her on the high-stakes poker game at the back. What else do we know about Miss Roulette? Deanna.”
“Already checked her out. She’s a local. Deanna Marie Madison.”
“Not a hotel guest? Her sister is an out-of-towner for sure. Just had a chat on the floor.”
Terry gives me a sharp look. He knows I rarely make an appearance on the floor myself. “Nah. The girl playing lives in the area. One of our shooter girls knows her from the scene. Twin sister is here celebrating their birthday. They’ve been ordering shots all evening.”
“Hm. Where’s the local one working?”
“The Circus Lounge. Bartender.”
“And her friends?”
“All got nightlife gigs. The usual Vegas riffraff. The guy is a small-time drug dealer. But he seems to be taking the night off.”
“Good. I don’t want that shit in our houses. 86 him if you see any hint of activity.”
I don’t ask Terry how he’s gotten all this info about Deanna and her friends. He could probably tell me Deanna’s social security number if I asked. Las Vegas might seem big to outsiders but it’s got a small-town feel to it if you work here. Everybody knows everybody. Part of Terry’s job is knowing everything about everyone. He no doubt started digging for information about Deanna as soon as she passed the $250k mark on winnings.
“I’ll go ahead and let Jerry know,” Terry says shortly and walks off. Jerry is the pit boss for the section of the floor Deanna is playing in. He’ll send a mole to wrangle Deanna into the poker game, someone friendly and charming who can dangle the prospect of even bigger winnings in front of her nose.
“Terry.” I stop him short. “I don’t want the friends back there. Too out of control. Just her and the sister.”
“Sure thing.”
“And make sure there’s a spot for me at the table.” I scan Lilly’s face on the security screen. She’s peering directly up at the eye-in-the-sky, a look of slight wonder on her face. “I think I’ll play tonight.”
“You got it.”
I tear my eyes away from Lilly’s face on the screen and step back. I have other areas to check on. I slowly make my way around our security hub. The carpeted section of tables in the casino’s center could be called the heart of the casino. This is the brain of the casino. And this is where I spend a good portion of my days. The massive windowless room requires two levels of security to enter. The first door requires a pin code that changes daily. This is followed by a fingerprint scan. The only part of the casino with more stringent security measures is the cage, where the actual money is kept.
Rows and rows of screens are laid out in front of me. Each one is showing a live feed, relaying valuable information about what’s happening on the floor. Paul is just one of the many security camera monitors in the room. Each one is attuned to his or her own cluster of screens. Buttons and dials on the control panels in front of them allow them to zoom in and out, catching every nuance. They are a source of information, relaying details to Terry about potential high rollers, brewing altercations, and, of course, possible cheaters. In a casino, as elsewhere, knowledge is power. Terry then communicates with pit bosses, located on the floor, giving them intel and instructions. When Terry isn’t on the job, I’m the one giving orders.
“Sir?” Paul, the young, baby-faced security camera monitor raises his hand tentatively, as if he were a schoolboy asking to go the bathroom. I stifle a grin and resist the urge to call the kid out. He’s new.
“News?” I step towards him.
“The fish at Table nineteen hit a half-mil. The mole is wrangling her now.” Fish. Slang for a novice gambler. Even Paul can recognize that Deanna isn’t a pro but just a girl having an exceptionally lucky night. The luckiest I’ve seen in a while.
“Good.” I straighten the collar of my shirt and check my cufflinks.