money--and that was
the last thing they wanted to do. A quarter of a million bucks isn't
small potatoes, even to a gambling syndicate.

It wasn't until early on the morning of the third day after Howley's
arrest that I got a tip-off from one of my part-time spies. I scooped up
the phone when it rang and identified myself.

"Counselor? Look, this is Benny." I recognized the voice and name. Benny
was one of the cabbies that I'd done favors for in the past.

"What's the trouble, Benny?"

"Oh, no trouble. I just got a little tip you might be interested in."

"Fire away."

"Well, the D.A. and some of his boys went into the Golden Casino about
ten minutes ago, and now they're closin' up the place. Just for a little
while, I understand. Hour, maybe. They're chasin' everyone out of the
roulette room."

"Thanks, Benny," I said, "thanks a lot."

"Well, I knew you was working on that Howley case, and I thought this
might be important, so I--"

"Sure, Benny. Come by my office this afternoon. And thanks again."

I hung up and started moving.

Within ten minutes, I was pulling up and parking across the street from
the Golden Casino. I locked the car and dodged traffic to get across the
street, as though I'd never heard of laws against jaywalking.

There were still plenty of people in the Casino. The bar was full, and
the dice and card games were going full blast. The slot machines were
jingling out their infernal din while fools fed coins into their
insatiable innards.

But the roulette room was closed, and a couple of be-Stetsoned deputies
were standing guard over the entrance. I headed straight for them.

Both of them stood pat, blocking my way, so I stopped a few feet in
front of them.

"Hello, counselor," said one. "Sorry, the roulette room's closed."

I knew the man slightly. "Let me in, Jim," I said. "I want to see
Thursby."

The men exchanged glances. Obviously, the D.A. had given them orders.

"Can't do it, counselor," said Jim. "We're not to let anyone in."

"Tell Thursby I'm out here and that I want to see him."

He shrugged, opened the door, stuck his head inside, and called to
District Attorney Thursby to tell him that I was outside. I could hear
Thursby's muffled "Damn!" from within. But when he showed up at the
door, his face was all smiles.

"What's the trouble?" he asked pleasantly.

I smiled back, giving him my best. "No trouble at all, Thursby. I just
wanted to watch the experiment."