Chapter 3
Crash
I smashed my hand down on the desk in frustration.
In anger.
In rage.
Yeah, I knew all those emotions well.
“Well what the f*ck do you mean there's not enough booze?”
I could hear the voice of my brother, Jude, on the other line. He was the youngest, the most f*cking incompetent.
“Crash, the order didn't come in. Some problem at the wholesalers, I don't know, a fire or something. I don't know what to tell you, we're running dry.”
I closed my fist as tight as I could, so tight I thought my fingers with rip through my palms. OK Crash, calm down. Think.
“What are we running low on?”
“Um, a few spirits. Vodka, I think, some whiskeys, not sure we've got much tequila.”
“And beer, wine?”
“Oh no we're good for the rest. It's just a few spirits.”
I thought for a moment. I had a newfound respect for my father, having to deal with all this shit on a day to day basis. I mean, I always respected him, but this just added an extra layer. The amount of work he must have put into build what he'd built. Amazing.
“OK look, this is what you're gonna do. You're gonna list down every spirit we've got plenty of, and make a new cocktail list for tonight based on those. Offer them cheaper, OK, like a 20% discount. Beers, wines, champagne, all that, same price as always. If people come in wanting a spirit we don't have, offer them a discount on something else. Use your top two inches, all right Jude. Can you do that for me?”
“Sure Crash, I won't let you down.”
“Good lad. I'll see if I can make it down later on, OK, but I'm not counting on it. I've got my own shit to deal with over here.”
“No, that's cool, I'll take care of it. It's all good.”
His optimism didn't really inspire me, but at least he was making an effort. The same couldn't be said of all of my brothers.
I stood up from my desk and walked over to the cabinet where I kept a range of spirits. I quickly saw off a shot of whiskey and stepped towards the window. Well, it was more of a glass wall than a window really, covering thefront of my office. Thankfully you could only see through it one way, so no one was ever looking in on me.
I was looking out on them, though. That was my job. One of them at least. My father had entrusted me to manage his casino a few years ago, but now that was only one of my concerns. Since his death I'd taken up the responsibility of overseeing everything, just as he'd done. It was another wish of his, in his will, to see me in charge of all of his interests.
I wasn't going to let him down.
I stepped out of the door and looked down on the balcony from above. The familiar sound of bings and bells and chatter filled the air as hundreds of people sat at machines or tried their luck at live tables.
Fools. They'll never f*cking win, not in the long term.
It was the easiest business in the world, like taking candy from a baby. That old mantra - the house always wins - I'd always thought that was bullshit when I watched films like Casino or Ocean's 11 as a kid. Now, though, I knew that it was gospel.
Sure, some people would do well, come in with a strategy, win more often than not. But that's not who I was worried about. They could take their winnings because the rest of the cattle would more than make up for it.
Take from the majority, give to the minority. I was like Robin Hood in reverse.
“Mr Logan, there's a problem at blackjack table 5.”
I looked to my left to see my floor manager, Graham, approach me up the stairs. He took so much heat off my back, more since my father died. Now, he was pretty much running the casino for me when I wasn't around.
“Can you not take care of it yourself?”
He hesitated, as if he wanted my input but didn't want to bother me. People never knew exactly what mood I'd be in.
“I can, if you want. I just thought this one might interest you.”
“What is it?”
“A hustle sir, someone gaming the system.”
My eyes narrowed. F*cking hustlers, always trying to cheat their way to riches. They'd come here to try out their scams, taking them through Vegas and Atlantic City once they'd got them down. I loved catching them in the act though. Depending on how much money they'd think they cheated from me, my reaction would range from mellow and disinterested to apoplectic and severe.
“What's the steal so far?”
“Roughly 20 thousand sir.”
“OK, let me take a look.”
I followed my floor manager down the steps and into the main room. The blackjack tables were set up in the center, and the casino was busy tonight. A perfect chance for someone to dupe my dealers.
“The man on table 5 Mr Logan, in the red baseball cap. He's been on a crazy run. It's unnatural.”
“Counting cards?” I asked.
“I don't think so sir. I think he's working with someone.”
I nodded before stepping forward into the crowd. These cheats, they didn't know who I was. I could have been another patron for all they knew, so my sudden presence wasn't alarming to them.
In fact, no one would think that a man of just 27 would be in charge of a casino like this. Little did they know that this was now only one of many businesses under my umbrella.
I could see a good stack of chips accumulating in front of the man at table 5. He was getting plenty of attention from the crowd, but that wasn't unusual, not when someone was on such a winning streak. None of them seemed to be involved, just interested onlookers.
I looked closely at the dealer. He was new, and weak, raising the cards a little too high on occasion when he checked them. I watched on as a pattern emerged. When he raised the cards too high, the man in the cap would bet high, and invariably win. When he was secure with the cards, he'd bet low, and his win/loss ratio would be average.
Clearly, he was working with someone.
I looked along the eye line of the dealers cards. It was rule 1 that you always cover the cards, but this guy was too loose. He'd be sacked by the end of the night.
Table 3 was a couple back from table 5, just a few meters behind it. There was a man having what appeared to be a mediocre night, his stack nothing to speak of, his expression one of rueful disappointment at losing so regularly.
But I knew the truth. He was having a great night really.
His eyes kept darting to the dealers back at table 5. When the dealer lifted his cards, the man at table 3 could see them clearly. He'd see the cards, communicate to his friend at table 5 via text and, lo and behold, they'd take away a nice pot.
It was something I'd seen often. These guys would cruise round casinos, looking for weak dealers, and exploit their inexperience. There were 101 ways to scam a casino, and this was one of the easiest.
I walked back to my floor manager, who lingered in the background as I did my Sherlock Holmes bit.
“Table 3, the guy with the beard. He can see the dealers cards at 5, relaying it to the guy in the cap.”
“What do you want us to do?”
“Bring them round the back. Do it quietly, don't make a fuss. I'd like to have a word. Oh, and fire the dealer at 5, the whole world and his f*cking wife can see his cards.”
....
I stood in the storage room of the casino, a warehouse out the back where old slot machines and stacked chairs lined the walls. It was a place that I had also used for another purpose over the years. Punishment.
The door opened and a group of security men came bustling in, dragging the two cheats from the casino floor in behind them. Their eyes were wide with fear as they struggled. It wasn't going to get them anywhere.
The guards lined them up in front of me, standing them to attention as they cowered. Their guilt was palpable.
“Do you know why you're here?” I asked.
Neither of them spoke. They just looked at each other and dropped their heads.
“I'll take that as a yes.”
“Now, my name is Mr Logan and I own and run this casino. Clearly you think you can get away with stealing my money. Is that it?”
One of them stayed silent as the other shook his head violently. “No, Mr Logan, we didn't...”
“You didn't try to steal from me tonight?” He went silent again.
“I'm sorry sir,” the other one piped up, “please, let us go and we won't ever do it again. It was a stupid mistake.” His words were nervy, shaking.
I carried on glaring at them as they stood there. They looked so pathetic, shadows of real men.
“And you think that's enough do you?” I asked. “You think you can come in here, try to steal over 20 thousand dollars from me, and then just walk away? You think that's fair?”
“Please sir, please Mr Logan, we won't do it again.” He continued pleading. There was little else he could do.
I thought for a moment. My old MO would be to wade in, fists flying, and rough them up. I'd have a few punches myself and then let my security guys finish the job. I wouldn't kill them, that would be excessive, but I'd teach them a lesson, one that would spread from their mouths and teach no one else to f*ck with me and my interests.
But my father, he had a different way of doing things. He was a master manipulator, a man who'd extract as much as he could from people. It was how he'd built his empire. Perhaps it was a better way forward.
“I'll give you two choices. One, you can take that 20k along with the consequences. In other words, I'll walk out of here and let these nice men around you teach you some manners. But, you can keep the money.”
Their eyes were pleading 'no' at option one.
“The second option is that you leave the money with me. I'll even let you walk away with the money you walked in here with. But, if I need something from you, you'll do it for me. If I need a little job done, I'll call on you.”
I let the words sink in for a moment. “Those are your two options. Which do you choose?”
They looked at each other again, their eyes in agreement. “Um, we'd like to walk away from here Mr Logan, we'll take the second option.”
I smile spread across my face. “A fine choice gentlemen. Please, what are your names?”
“Brian,” said the man in the red cap.
“Steve,” said the other.
“OK Brian, Steve. I'll give you a chance to redeem yourself in the future. My men will take your details. Don't even think about skipping town.”
“Thank you sir, thank you.”
I turned away and paced back towards the casino. I wouldn't thank me yet, you don't know what I'm going to get you to do.
Truth be told, I didn't know myself yet either.
....
The phone rang again as I sat back at my desk in my office. It never stopped f*cking ringing these days.
I saw Jude's name flash up. Great, what now.
“Jude, what's wrong?” I always just assumed something was wrong when Jude called.
“Nothing Crash, night's going well. Discount drinks are actually bringing more people in.”
“OK...so why are you calling?”
“Erm, just to fill you in. Kyle's here with the twins and a couple of others girls. He's got Alice with him.”
F*cking shit. I talked to him about this.
“All right, thanks for letting me know. I'm coming down.”
I stepped from the office and out the front of the casino, straight for my Hummer parked in my private parking spot. I could feel a sense of anger building in me as I drove. He'd disrespect our father like this, the arrogantlittle shit.
It didn't take me long to get to the club, and I quickly parked on the other side of the road and stormed in past the bouncers. I went straight through and into the back, where they were all sitting around one of the VIP tables.
Kyle's eyes landed on me as soon as I appeared. Yeah, he knew I wasn't happy.
I looked down at Alice. I had nothing against her personally, but she shouldn't be here, and she'd brought that f*cking friend of hers as well, Tess. These girls didn't belong.
There was another girl there between them, though. Not another f*cking college girl. Alice introduced her as Elle or something.
Not interested.
“Kyle, a word,” I said, glaring at him. He knew why I was there.
I turned and walked out of the club, Kyle behind me.
“I know what you're gonna say Crash,” he said as we walked, “and frankly I don't give a shit what you think, what anyone thinks.”
I didn't reply. I kept walking down the street to the left outside of the club, hearing his footfall still behind me. He grabbed my arm and spun me round.
“Would you f*cking stop already,” he said.
I turned on him, my eyes so narrow I could barely see through them. “What are you doing with her. Why aren't you at the club?” I tried to keep my voice calm, but could feel my anger bubbling below the surface. A volcano aboutto explode.
“I've got Ron running the club tonight. It can't take up every moment of my f*cking time.”
“Don't raise your voice to me Kyle.”
“Excuse me? You're not my father, you're only 2 years older than me Crash. Step off mate.”
“And that's why I'm here, brother. Father was explicit in his wishes for us. They didn't include that f*cking girl. They didn't include you leaving someone else to run the club for you.”
“I don't give a f*ck about what Charles wanted, he's dead now. I can do what I f*cking want.”
My anger spilled over as I grabbed at his neck and pushed him against the wall. “You'll do as I command,” I spat.
He laughed in my face. “F*ck you Crash. You've got no power over me.”
I could feel my spare fist clenching by my side. It took everything in me to stop from launching it at his smug face.
He grabbed at my hand and tore it from his neck. His teeth were clenching like a dog. F*cking mutt, he needed to learn his place.
He stormed off away from me, back down the street, back into the club. I watched on as Alice chased in after him. That girl, she was f*cking everything up.
My eyes spilled over the street, locking on the new girl, Elle. She looked at me, staring, and I stared back, my eyes popping. I intensified my glare, seeing hers drop to the ground. I felt a pang of guilt, the poor girl had walked into a f*cking maelstrom.
But she stood firm, her eyes raising back to meet mine. I liked her guts, not many people stared me down.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Another f*cking problem no doubt.
I picked it up, still looking at the new girl.
“Mr Logan, we've got an unruly group at the casino.” It was my floor manager again.
“Well f*cking deal with it then!” I barked. Why did every little problem have to go through me.
“Throw them the f*ck out and rough them up.”
“But sir....”
“I don't give a shit. Take them out back and show them why you DON'T F*ck AROUND IN MY CASINO,” I bellowed down the phone.
I thrust it back into my pocket, Elle still looking on at me. Silly girl, doesn't have a clue who I am.
I turned and stormed back towards my Hummer. More f*cking duty calls.