The Wheel of Death by R.T.M. Scott

Author:R.T.M. Scott [Scott, R.T.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackmask Online
Published: 2001-10-06T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN Nita Disappears

They came into a large room which was brilliantly lighted. The walls were richly hung with gold, but not otherwise ornamented. Down the center of the room was an unusually large roulette table, a full thirty feet long, and seated around it were as many guests, men and women, as could find room. Behind the players other guests stood, watching the game and waiting a chance to join in.

“Rein ne va plus!”

The croupier's voice was authoritative and professional, as he announced in French that no more stakes would be accepted. The little ball was coming to rest, and conversation died down as the players waited to learn if they had won or lost.

“Treize, rouge, impair, manque,” called the croupier, as the ball came to rest and the players knew that they had won if they had staked upon number thirteen, upon red numbers, upon odd numbers or upon numbers from one to eighteen inclusive.

There were four croupiers who shot their little rakes expertly over the green cloth to gather in the stakes of those who had lost, while some exclamations of pleasure or of disappointment escaped from the players according to their fortune.

“By Jove!” exclaimed Wentworth to Nita as they halted a little distance from the table. “It sounds like a professional game. Those croupiers are certainly imported from France.”

“Do you suppose the game is on the level?” asked Nita in a whisper.

“Of course it's on the level,” returned Wentworth. “In the long run the bank always wins. Roulette doesn't need to be crooked.”

“But how can he get away with such open gambling week after week in New York City?” Nita asked.

“Political influence, my dear, will do anything in New York City,” was the dry response.

“But it seems absurd that so wealthy and important a business man as Mortimer Mack should descend to professional gambling,” she persisted.

Wentworth smiled. “Nita,” he said, “I do not think that Mortimer Mack is giving New York such excellent roulette for the purpose of making money. Suppose that a politician should lose more than he could afford. Suppose that he gave an I.O.U. that he could not meet, or wrote a check without sufficient funds in the bank. Gambling has placed many a man in another man's power.”

“Look!” exclaimed Nita “There is Jerry Stone standing beside Mortimer Mack on the other side of the table behind the two croupiers.”

“Yes, I have been watching them,” said Wentworth. “And do you see that elderly man seated before the manqué space at Mack's right? That is old David Bannister, owner of a string of newspapers and, incidentally, the employer of Ned Morris. He is a power in the state.”

“I certainly am surprised to see such a man as that at a roulette table in defiance of the law,” said Nita.

“Has it occurred to you,” asked Wentworth, “that David Bannister may be conducting an investigation of his own?”

Suddenly Nita nudged her companion. “There goes Jerry Stone,” she said. “Mortimer Mack just spoke to him, and he's going toward the passage which leads to that terrible room where they ended poor Buckley.

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