Within ten minutes, I was pulling up and parking across the street from
the Golden Casino. I locked the car and dodged traffic to get across the
street, as though I'd never heard of laws against jaywalking.
There were still plenty of people in the Casino. The bar was full, and
the dice and card games were going full blast. The slot machines were
jingling out their infernal din while fools fed coins into their
insatiable innards.
But the roulette room was closed, and a couple of be-Stetsoned deputies
were standing guard over the entrance. I headed straight for them.
Both of them stood pat, blocking my way, so I stopped a few feet in
front of them.
"Hello, counselor," said one. "Sorry, the roulette room's closed."
I knew the man slightly. "Let me in, Jim," I said. "I want to see
Thursby."
The men exchanged glances. Obviously, the D.A. had given them orders.
"Can't do it, counselor," said Jim. "We're not to let anyone in."
"Tell Thursby I'm out here and that I want to see him."
He shrugged, opened the door, stuck his head inside, and called to
District Attorney Thursby to tell him that I was outside. I could hear
Thursby's muffled "Damn!" from within. But when he showed up at the
door, his face was all smiles.
"What's the trouble?" he asked pleasantly.
I smiled back, giving him my best. "No trouble at all, Thursby. I just
wanted to watch the experiment."
"Experiment?" He looked honestly surprised, which was a fine piece of
acting. "We're just checking to see if the table's wired, that's all. If
it is, your client may be in the clear; maybe we can hang it on the
croupier."
"And get a conspiracy charge on my client, too, eh? Well, if you don't
mind, I'd like to watch that table check myself. You know how it is."
Thursby hesitated, then he scowled. "Oh, all right. Come on in. But stay
out of the way."