“Watch this,” I said.
I crouched down and slipped through the doors of the cabinet. I reached out and carefully unhooked a key from his waist and then returned to the slot machine and used it to pop the plating off it. I pulled the lever that would release the back door and lifted the back panel upward, finding the stack of nickels that controlled everything. Then I pumped the lever to dispense the coins into my hand.
“Nick!” Jay exclaimed, in a loud whisper. “You can’t do it that way.”
“Why not?” I said, laughing. “You get the money faster.”
“It’s not about the money.” He tried to reattach the back of the machine. “It’s about the fun of playing, hoping you get a match. You take the fun out when you up and steal all the goods! Now reattach that thing and return the key before they catch us.”
I dumped the nickels in my pocket and reapplied the backing.
“Okay.” Jay returned to the front of the machine. He pulledthat lever, hoping for the best, and then yelled, “Dammit!” when the symbols didn’t line up.
“See—it’s all a waste of time!”
“Well, what else is there to do?” He dropped his hands and looked at me.
I pulled him away from his game and weaved through the people until I saw the sign for a bathroom. I had to be somewhere private with him, only for a moment, so I pulled him into the bathroom and closed the door behind us. We stood chest to chest between the narrow walls.
I grabbed the chain glinting around his neck. “What is this? Silver?”
“Nickel-plated.” Jay unbuttoned his shirt some to reveal a locket with a picture of his mom inside. “Why did you drag me in here?”
I struggled to stay focused on his eyes, but it was hard. He was doing this on purpose—I was sure of it.
“Because I don’t like Italian casinos,” I said. “We’re the only Negroes—haven’t you noticed? There’s weird energy from these people. Who knows if we’ll even find the guy, or what he even looks like? A lot of those Italians got pistols hanging off their waists tonight too. If we’re found out, we’re goners.”
“You brought that staff, didn’t you?”
I had. Even though it was retractable, I could feel the cold rod in my sock.
“You have trouble having fun, Nick,” Jay said. “Why don’t you relax a bit?”
“I don’t have trouble with anything. Back off, Jay.” But I thought about what he said. Was I someone who struggled to relax? Perhaps I was. He was getting to know me quite well.
We were inches apart now. I caught the scent from his neck, and it smelled like a bar of eucalyptus soap.
“Let’s go back to the slots.” Jay took my hand as if shaking it backward and pulled me from the bathroom.
Once we were outside, he instantly let go. Of course he did. He started playing the slots again, and I left him there to go up to the balcony, where I could survey the room for Pierre.
Was he that man with the bulbous nose who laughed loudly every two minutes? Or was he someone quieter and more discreet?
From afar, I saw Daisy lean over a casino roulette wheel, whispering things to a smiling tan man she’d just met. Was that Pierre? If we were ever going to locate the guy, she’d be first to find him what with her magnetic personality and captivating beauty.
A security man came up to me, blocking my view. “Hey, big guy. Who’s your boss?”
“Um... Mister...” I scanned the room, landing on a blinking concessions sign, offering snacks. “Mr. Pretzel... ton?” I said. “Mr. Pretzelton?”
“Who the hell’s Mr. Pretzelton?”
“He’s my boss,” I said, as if it should be obvious.
The man held out a meaty hand. “Where’s your ticket? Ain’t no such thing as a Mr. Pretzelton. You ain’t part of Uptown Crew.”
“Ticket? My boss is friendly with those guys, sir. See, it’s all about camaraderie.”
“Ticket?”
