“I figured you’d all say that. In fact, that’s how this weasel operates—he makes it sound complex, so even the savviest investor may not pick up on the scheme. I brought a little primer.” She pulled up a PowerPoint presentation on her computer.
Irene gasped as the graphics began to dance around the screen before settling into a presentation. “You did that, Edie?”
“Lord, no,” Edie scoffed. “I downloaded it off the internet, and even that took an hour to figure out how to do. All right, so here is how he made it work. Like a regular Ponzi scheme, he had a pie-in-the-sky deal, and in the beginning, he made sure investors got some great returns. Of course, that money was coming from other new investors. When Marcy gave him her inheritance because of this promised enormous windfall, he used that to pay investors who had come before her.”
“Where was this kid getting all these investors?” Irene asked.
“Vanderbilt students and alum. He probably had some of his family’s cronies buying in. Anyway, he ran this scam, but eventually he ran out of investors because, of course, there was nothing there to invest in, and savvy people figured it out. He couldn’t pay those double and triple returns, and people tried to pull their money out, and there was a run on deposits because they had figured out by then nothing was there … but he’d already made off with most of the money.”
The four of them sat silently, pondering. Joan spoke first. “She lost everything?”
Edie nodded. “She even took out credit card debt.”
“Oh my God, never take out credit card loans,” Irene muttered. “And this kid, what did he end up with?”
“Who knows?” Edie said. “I’m sure he skimmed as much as he could. Marcy said in addition to her investments, she got hit with monthly trading and deposit fees. I bet that went right into his pocket, too.”
“He didn’t get caught?” Joan asked.
Edie snorted. “Not in this state. I tried to bring it to the attention of the authorities, but the kid is smart—he’s a big campaign contributor and the people he hurt were no one that politicians care about.”
“What a prick,” Frances said. “Do we know anything about his other victims?”
“Not really. Marcy talked a couple of friends into investing. They also lost everything.”
“And where is this asshole now?” Irene asked.
“Vegas. He’s making a splash with his plans to make the Pelican the first-ever crypto-only casino. He’s lined the pockets of Nevada politicians, and he got the legislation he needed to go ahead. I read an interview where he said he plans to convert everything to crypto just as soon as his crypto machine is ready to go. Once it’s up and running, they will take the cash reserves from the casino and bank it all.”
“How much is in the cash reserves?” Frances asked.
“I’m not sure. You know the gambling on the floor must be backed up with cash. So, every casino has a full vault. One article I read said the Pelican has anywhere from twenty to seventy million on hand. Now, a few casinos are allowing people to use bit-coin to pay for everything but the gambling—food, lodging, etc. There is some speculation that slot machines will be available for crypto accounts by the end of the year. There are even bitcoin ATMs where you can withdraw from your bitcoin account and receive cash. All that to say, he wants to get his casino up and running before anyone else. The clock is ticking.”
“Wow,” Frances said. She closed her eyes as if the entire discussion pained her and pressed two fingers to her temple. “What is the heist, exactly? How do you steal crypto?”
“Stay with me,” Edie said. “We aren’t going after the crypto. We’re going after the cash.”
“In thevault?” Irene asked incredulously.
“In the vault,” Edie confirmed. “In that Rat Pack–era safe with the wheel lock that supposedly no one can crack.”
The four of them sat in utter silence for a few moments. It was a big ask, Edie knew. She imagined they had in mind something a little tamer—a painting. Some jewelry. But twenty million in cash? Four women in their seventies weren’t exactly the black body suit, vault-cracking, cash-stealing crew one would imagine. But they were more than capable, and if there was one thing Edie was certain about, it was that Rocco knew how to bilk people. He was a natural. He was begging for a takedown.
“That casino is sitting on a huge, unmarked cash reserve. The more crypto he uses in his casino, the less actual cash he needs on hand. He’s going to move that cash out to the bank for his own personal use, and I want to get there first. I want payback for his being a dick in general and to make Marcy and her friends whole. The rest, we would keep.”
Frances carefully closed her folder.
“So, what do you think?” Edie asked. “I know it’s a lot. But it’s Vegas. Remember our summer in Vegas? We had the best time.”
They’d gone to Vegas a couple of summers after Sweden. A couple of summers after a few other jobs. They’d been free spirits, dressing like Stevie Nicks and Pam Grier. They acted like rock stars, with money to burn and nothing but time. That summer lived fondly in her memory—there was nothing more alluring than being young and beautiful and living with absolutely no fear.
“This is all so interesting, Edie,” Frances said. “It looks like you’ve put a lot of thought into it.”
“I’ve done a lot of research. That’s the hardest part, right?”
“Well. Cracking a safe is no picnic. I’ll be honest—taking down a Vegas casino might be the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard. You realize, don’t you, that the odds of us pulling anything off at this age, with these bodies, is slim to none, right?”
She was repeating what Edie had said in the gazebo. “Yes, Fran, I know. But I have faith in us.”
