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for Jackie
Sep. 26th, 2011 06:21 pmThe restaurant itself was hard enough to get into, though Robin could manage it. The hidden casino practically required an act of God, and Robin had finally managed that as well. What money couldn't get you, a little charm could usually get the rest of the way - and if there was anything left, then there was always the con. Robin was well acquainted with all three of those things.
His three-piece suit was impeccable, monochromatic in black and white tailoring, wing-tip shoes, and a fedora, the only splash of color the red silk handkerchief that was perfect for flashes of distraction.
Robin had been around since before gambling was invented, and knew every cheat that had been invented after. Counting cards was pedestrian, aces up sleeves lacked finesse. Though having been at the casino a few times now, he had managed both without the least suspicion, and brought home a substantial winnings. Considering this, he probably should have been more cautious, since the big winners have the most eyes on them, but a puck was nothing without his arrogance.
Also without his scotch, which he was drinking like it was water while he stood at the craps table.
His technique was flawless. The loaded die was a thing of beauty, and so was his slight of hand. Well, almost flawless - the flash of something between his fingers was only due to the alcohol, he'd say later. But not even the dealer noticed.
And neither did Robin notice the cameras aimed right above him.
His three-piece suit was impeccable, monochromatic in black and white tailoring, wing-tip shoes, and a fedora, the only splash of color the red silk handkerchief that was perfect for flashes of distraction.
Robin had been around since before gambling was invented, and knew every cheat that had been invented after. Counting cards was pedestrian, aces up sleeves lacked finesse. Though having been at the casino a few times now, he had managed both without the least suspicion, and brought home a substantial winnings. Considering this, he probably should have been more cautious, since the big winners have the most eyes on them, but a puck was nothing without his arrogance.
Also without his scotch, which he was drinking like it was water while he stood at the craps table.
His technique was flawless. The loaded die was a thing of beauty, and so was his slight of hand. Well, almost flawless - the flash of something between his fingers was only due to the alcohol, he'd say later. But not even the dealer noticed.
And neither did Robin notice the cameras aimed right above him.
