apologizing for barging in but something terrible had happened and they were broke and far from home. They were near the end of a two-week trip to Tampa and back, had been headed to New Orleans for a night on the town when tragedy struck the day before.
It was obvious they were not injured. Their nice car parked at the curb seemed undamaged. As a busy lawyer hustling the streets of Biloxi, he immediately suspected trouble from the shadier side of town.
Guy began the narrative and Millie wiped her red and swollen eyes with a tissue. He kept glancing at her as if desperate for approval, and absolutely none was forthcoming. It was obvious he had screwed up, he was the villain, she had tried to talk him out of whatever nonsense he’d fallen into, and so it was up to him to confess and seek absolution.
After five minutes, Jesse knew exactly what had happened.
The first clue was the location. The Blue Spot Diner on Highway 90, with a view of the beach. It was an old greasy spoon that advertised homemade biscuits and cheap steaks. A few years back a hustler named Shine Tanner bought the place, kept the café as it was, and added a room in the back where he put on Bingo & Beer nights that drew crowds. He also had card games and a few slots but no girls for rent. He preferred to prey on an older crowd and keep the soldiers and college boys away.
Guy was saying, “And so we had a nice breakfast, late in the morning, the place was empty.” That was the second clue. Shine liked to swindle out-of-towners when the traffic was light.
“And the bill came to two dollars. I was getting ready to pay when the waitress, her name was Lonnie, asked if we liked to play games of chance. We weren’t sure, so she said, ‘Look, everybodyplays games around here. It’s all harmless fun. Here’s a deck of cards. I pick one. You pick one. If your card is higher, then breakfast is free. A simple game or double or nothing.’ ”
Millie managed to say, “She had a deck of cards in her pocket. I’m sure they were marked.”
Guy smiled at his wife, who did not return one of her own. Guy said, “So she shuffled, I mean this gal could really shuffle, and after three rounds I was up four dollars. Then eight. Then I lost, back down to zero. Back up to eight. Another customer came in and she took his order. I couldn’t leave because she owed me eight bucks.”
“I wanted to leave,” Millie said.
Guy ignored her and became fixated on his coffee cup. When he continued his voice was lower. “This guy shows up, I think he owned the place, real friendly type, asked if we wanted to see his casino.”
Jesse asked, “Short, bald, not a hair anywhere, really brown and tanned?”
“That’s him. You know the guy?”
“He’s the owner.”
The next clue. Shine Tanner arrived on the scene to lay the trap.
“She paid us the eight dollars and we followed him through a door to the casino stuck to the side of the diner. It was dark and empty. He said the casino was closed, didn’t open until six o’clock, but he had a new game he wanted to show us.”
“Bolita?” Jesse asked.
“Yeah, you been there?”
“No, but I’ve heard about the Bolita table. It’s also called Razzle.”
“That’s what he said. There was this green, felt-like table, like a big checkerboard, with squares numbered one through fifty. He said the game was all about dice and arithmetic and easy to win. He asked if I wanted to put down a few bucks and he’d sort of walk me through the game. Lonnie popped in and asked me if I wanteda drink. The owner said the bar was closed and they went back and forth, making a big deal over whether they could offer me a drink. I didn’t want one, but after all that chatter I felt obliged to ask for a beer.”
Millie shook her head and stared at a wall.
“So, he rattled eight dice and rolled out the ‘bones,’ as he called them, then scooped them up almost as fast. Said it totaled thirty-eight. He put down two of my dollars on
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