CRASH (A Logan Brothers Novel) (4 page)

As we emerged from the club into
the cold night I saw Alice and Tess' gaze pointing down the street. I
set my eyes to where they were looking to see Crash bearing down on
Kyle. He was taller and more physically imposing, the dominant
brother in every way. He had Kyle up against the wall, a furious look
on his face. It looked at though they were primed for a fight, Kyle's
teeth grinding under his clenched jaw.

I looked at Alice. Her eyes were
wide with concern as Crash gesticulated in her direction. It seemed
as though they might be arguing over her.

What sort of screwed up
family drama had I walked into. I'd only been here a few hours!

Kyle tore himself away from
Crash's grip and stormed back down the street towards us, walking
straight back into the bar. Alice went after him, with Tess not quite
knowing what to do.

I
looked up and saw Crash staring at me. There was a fire lit in his
eyes, this blaze that was exploding out of him. He looked scary.
Like, seriously scary, as though he'd suddenly go berserk and start
pounding the wall.

I
wilted under his gaze, my eyes dropping to the floor
What was he looking at me for? I had nothing to do with any of this.

And yet, I wanted him to look at
me, I wanted to look back at him.

I
turned my head up again and locked eyes once more.
Screw
you. I don't know you. You're not gonna make me turn away.

He reached into his pocket and
aggressively pulled out his phone, thrusting it to his ear. His eyes
still lingered in my direction, if not fully burning into me as
before, as he barked down his cell. In the blink of an eye he thrust
it back into his pocket and stormed across the street, giving no shit
for the cars blaring down the road.

He stepped into a Hummer - yeah
that suited him perfectly - and boomed off into the night, leaving me
wondering exactly what the hell was going on.

“
Hell fucking no.”

I turned around to see Tess
right behind me.

“
Did you just stare down the
big dog?” She was kinda shocked, kinda laughing at the same time.

“
Er, I suppose so.”

Was Big Dog a nickname, or
something she just made up?

“
I mean, I've only met him a
couple of times, but good job girl! That guy is intense. I mean,
these brothers, they're all a bit intense, but him, he's on another
level!”

I didn't quite know what to say.
I didn't really have a clue who any of these people were. Even Tess.
I'd spoken to her, nattered about random gossip, but still, I didn't
really
know
anything about her. I mean, how could I after only
a few hours.

Well, my first day here had been
nothing if not eventful.

Unlike my last effort at
assimilating myself into college life, I'd really made an impression.
I just wasn't sure whether it was a good or a bad one.

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 fuck 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
fucking 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 in to 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 the front 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 fucking
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. Fucking
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 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 fucking 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 fuck 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.”