Jingle of Coins (3 page)
Authors: C D Ledbetter
She knew the machines were operated by computer chips. Obviously, they must have some kind of device that calculated the number of spins between jackpots. Each machine would probably be on a different payoff cycle so they didn’t all pay out at the same time. That made sense, especially for financial reasons. After all, the casinos were in the business of making money—not giving it away. Otherwise, how could they afford to stay in business?
Even if the slot machines were electronically controlled, that still didn’t account for the reason why she heard the varying sounds. Could her intensified hearing be sensitive to that high a pitch? Nah, she couldn’t be that lucky—or could she?
She remembered Betty's warning and wondered if she would become a compulsive gambler. Probably not, she didn’t have the temperament to become addicted to gambling. She was simply curious to know if her heightened hearing ability gave her the advantage of being able to "hear" a machine as it got ready to pay off. It was possible that her wins were a one-time fluke. If not, maybe this stroke of good fortune would last long enough to keep her going until she could find another way to make a living.
Well, there was only one way to find out. She'd have to go back to the casino and see what happened. Win or lose, she was still ahead, because she could play with the money she'd won. If she lost it, she wouldn’t be out anything. Hopefully, she’d win.
Emily spent the next three days trying to get up enough nerve to test her theory. Until trial and error proved her wrong, she decided to stick to her belief that Lady Luck had merely paid a once-in-a-lifetime visit. It was a shame her windfall happened on the nickel machines. The dollar machines would have been so much nicer!
One thing was certain. She had to go alone. That way, if she made a fool of herself, nobody would know. To make sure she didn’t run into any of her neighbors, Emily drove to a different casino. Her heart thudded and her breath came in painful gasps as she pulled into a parking space and cut the engine.
Nervous and dry-mouthed, she sat quietly for a few minutes trying to get up enough nerve to test her theory. Finally, after reminding herself that there was nothing to be afraid of, Emily wiped her sweaty hands on the side of her slacks and climbed out. If she were lucky, she'd leave the casino a few bucks ahead. If not, well, the worst that could happen would be that she'd have a little less cash and feel dumb.
Wincing at the onslaught of sound, Emily wandered around the casino until she found a group of nickel machines. Her plan called for her to start out as cheap as she could and, once the machines started paying off, work her way up to the more expensive slots, preferably dollars. This really was too easy. All she had to do was wait for the machine to change pitch. Once that happened, she'd count the number of spins it took for it to pay off, and bingo! Instant money.
As far as she could tell, the only flaw in her plan was that she couldn't be sure if the machine would change pitch. She’d have to try several rolls of nickels at each machine until it creaked and groaned. Once that happened, the jackpot would follow—she hoped.
Holding her breath, Emily unwrapped the first roll of nickels and inserted the maximum number of coins into the slot. Nothing happened. Undaunted, she tried again. Still no sound. It didn't take long to lose her entire cache. Ten dollars later, she decided that her original assumption about Lady Luck’s one-time visit had been correct.
Some inner impulse urged her to spend a couple more dollars, so she purchased another two-dollar roll of nickels and fed in a few more coins. Nothing happened, and when the money disappeared, so did her patience. Putting more money into the machine was stupid. She still had almost fifty-one dollars left; she'd put that money to use somewhere other than gambling.
Emily was still trying to figure out the quickest route to the parking lot when a quarter machine across from her began making noises. Two spins later, the noise increased another level. With each whirl of the reels, a thrill shot across her stomach. Oh my God! Her idea wasn’t stupid! She’d been right! That machine was going to pay out, and soon! Crap, the man playing it still had coins left. Damn!
She wondered if the man playing the slot machine heard the noise, but his frustrated expression led her to believe he was unaware of what was happening. A shiver raced down her back. Maybe he would leave before the machine paid off. She felt bad about wishing him bad luck, but still hoped he’d leave before the jackpot hit.
As luck would have it, he ran out of money and walked away. The moment he left, she jumped in front of his machine and signaled for the change girl. Her pulse quickened as the woman swapped her ten-dollar bill for a tightly wrapped roll of quarters.
Emily whacked the coins against the side of the machine to break the wrapper, dropped two quarters into the coin slot, and reached for the spin button. The wheels whirled around and around, and as she listened for the change in pitch, a small shred of anxiety nibbled its way into her consciousness. Was this how compulsive gamblers felt? Was she becoming a compulsive gambler? She tried to subdue her excitement by telling herself that she was only excited because it looked like her theory might be valid. This was an experiment, much like scientists did. It was a little different than most, but a heck of a lot more fun.
She continued to count spins from the time the machine started making sounds. The slot machine sucked up quarter after quarter, bringing the number to forty. Worried that the machine would reset if it remained inactive for any length of time, she decided to purchase an extra roll of quarters.
Emily resisted the urge to put in the maximum coins, and dropped her quarters in one at a time. Her money would last longer if she only put in the minimum. That had been her mistake at the nickel slots. Instead of being prudent, she'd opted for the maximum, and her money hadn't lasted as long as it should have.
Of course, one coin meant she wouldn't win as much, but she reminded herself that this trip was to test her theory, not to win money. She remembered to write down the type of slot machine it was in the notebook stashed inside her purse, and continued to count the number of spins. Her cache dwindled to four coins as the machine changed pitch one last time and the winning combination aligned in the windows.
Emily’s adrenalin level skyrocketed as she jumped up and down. She’d done it! Her idea worked! She could actually tell which slot machine was going to pay off! In the midst of her excitement, she felt a familiar throbbing in her temples.
Oh no, not now! She couldn’t be getting a headache now! Of all the rotten luck, this had to be the worst. Emily grabbed her medication bottle from her purse, popped off the cap, and shook out a couple of pain pills. As she swallowed the foul-tasting tablets, she prayed for the machine to pay off quickly so she could get home before her migraine reached full intensity.
As the machine continued to count the coins, she jotted down the number of spins it took for the quarter machine to pay off. Twenty minutes later she cashed in two hundred fifty-five dollars. She'd done it! She'd won! Her theory wasn't a bunch of hogwash and wishful thinking.
Some of her excitement faded as her headache worsened, forcing her to drive home through a blur of blinding pain. Fighting off the waves of pain-induced nausea, she dragged herself up to her second floor apartment. Her knees buckled as she closed the door, and she slid to the floor. This was the worst headache she’d ever had. She thought about taking another pain pill, but decided against it. No sense risking an overdose.
A few moments later, she crawled to the bedroom and eased into bed. Would the black cloud hanging over her never go away? This was just her kind of luck. She finally figures out a way to make a ton of money, and instead of cashing in on her idea and getting rich, she ends up with the migraine from hell. Damn, damn, damn!
Emily eased her limbs into a more comfortable position and ignored the fear that her headache wouldn’t dissipate, forcing her to call her doctor. Assuming, of course, that she didn't die from it first. And, considering what caused it, death might be a more palatable option that trying to explain her recent behavior to her physician.
Chapter Three
Glen Craigone unpacked the last of his facial recognition system handouts, then grimaced as he surveyed the makeshift conference room, noting the worn carpet, thin wall paneling, and stained ceiling tiles.
A series of ill-matched folding chairs that had seen better days surrounded two cafeteria-style tables placed in the center, and the remaining furniture, stacked pancake-style, lined the room. The regular conference room was too small to hold all the attendees, so instead of splitting the training into a two-day affair, this casino’s management opted to convert the employee lounge into a temporary conference center. A maintenance man told him management was in the process of refurbishing the property; it was obvious that this room must be somewhere near the bottom of the priority list.
He glanced up as Robert Hoyland, Chief of Security, appeared in the doorway.
“Everything okay?” Hoyland asked.
“Fine.” Glen resisted the urge to smooth his hair and put on his jacket. There was no reason to feel inadequate because the casino’s security chief looked as if he’d stepped out of the pages of the latest issue of a man’s fashion magazine.
“Good.” Hoyland glanced at his watch. “Since you still have a few minutes, I wondered if you’d take a look at something.”
“What?”
“Tapes of the slots. We’ve got a woman who’s hit several jackpots each time she’s been in. I know she’s cheating, but we can’t figure out how.”
Glen shrugged on his jacket. “Sure.”
Hoyland walked down a narrow hallway that connected to his private office. Motioning for Glen to take a seat, he grabbed three tapes from his desk and slipped one into a VCR. “This is the first time she came in. She hit the jackpot on the nickel machines. Next time quarters. Third time she came in, she hit dollars.”
Glen viewed the tape in silence. On screen, a slender woman with short, dark hair approached a machine, played it for a few minutes, and then hit the jackpot. He waited until the third tape finished before speaking. “Hand me the remote so I can watch the tapes in slow motion.”
Hoyland nodded. “Take your time. I have a few things to check on, but I’ll be back.” He rewound the tapes, then placed the first one back into the machine, waited until it started playing, then left. When he returned, Glen was putting the last tape into its case.
“Find anything?”
Glen shook his head. “Nothing. She’s either figured out a new way to beat the slots, or it’s a fluke.” He paused for a moment, then glanced at the security chief. “There is one other alternative. Any chance there’s an insider working with her?”
“Already checked. Different slot techs were on duty each time she came in, and the machines were serviced by different technicians. I even went back a month, but she wasn’t in any of the previous tapes.” Hoyland’s watch beeped. “You better get back to the conference room. It’s almost time for your presentation.” As he turned away, a security guard entered the office. “What is it?”
“Remember that woman you told us to keep an eye out for? The one who always wins?” the guard whispered excitedly. “She’s back. Just started playing the dollar slots.”
The now-familiar bells and whistles rang out as Emily's slot machine lined up the winning jackpot symbols. She’d recently learned that large dollar amounts locked up the machines, which then had to be reset after a clerk paid out the money, so she slipped two coins into the machine on her left while she waited for someone to appear. Three spins later, as the clerk counted out hundred dollar bills, triple bars appeared on the pay line of the second machine. This time, however, the machine didn’t lock up because Emily hadn’t put in the maximum number of coins.
Emily grinned at the clerk and gave her twenty dollars. This was unbelievable! Ten minutes after she walked in, she’d collected over eleven hundred bucks! She was getting really good at this!
Caution overcame greed, and she decided to quit before some over-eager security guard noticed she’d won again. In less than three weeks she’d already increased her nest egg by some five thousand dollars. It didn’t make sense to cause undue attention by hitting too many jackpots, especially on the dollar machines. She'd purposefully chosen slots whose jackpots amounted to less than eleven hundred dollars in order to avoid filling out forms for the Internal Revenue Service. What a way to make a living!
Standing next to the guard in the video surveillance room, Hoyland scanned the monitors. “Where is she?”
The guard pointed to the last monitor on his right. “She’s the woman dressed in a red tee shirt and black pants, standing in front of the Touchdown dollar machine. Been there about five minutes.”
Hoyland shifted his glance to Glen. “Looks like we’re going to have to delay your presentation. This can’t wait.”
“No problem.”
“Pan the camera to the left,” Hoyland barked. The three men watched quietly as the woman tilted her head to an odd angle and then dropped the maximum number of coins into the machine. A few spins later the winning symbols lined up, and her machine began spitting out dollars into the tray below.
Hoyland panned the camera to zoom in on the woman’s ear. “Good catch. We got her now.” He picked up a walkie-talkie. “Pete, pick up the woman who just hit the jackpot on the dollar slots. Back wall. Red tee shirt and black pants. Bring her to my conference room. Do not let her leave the building. I repeat, do not let her leave.”
Hoyland folded his arms and leaned against the counter. “Glad you’re so observant, Craigone.”