As it turned out, day one of the casino party ended quite peacefully.
✦ ✦ ✦
The event had begun with a speech from the manager of Ra’s Lance.
This was proof that the entire building was under the control of the Runoratas. However, since practically nobody had ever thought otherwise, that fact didn’t really surprise anyone.
The party was scheduled to take place over three days.
On that first day, almost everyone focused on waiting and watching.
And the gambling wasn’t the only thing they were watching.
What was the Runorata Family plotting? Would the police really leave this party alone until it ended?
And—was there some larger scheme at work here?
Even as they harbored various doubts, they gradually began to wager their chips.
If I win this modest bet, I’m sure nothing’s gonna happen.
Quite a few people tried to reassure themselves with these superstitious hopes—and the dealers began to prey on their small wishes, creating a new current.
A current of money that would set more desires in motion.
✦ ✦ ✦
Both the Runoratas and the Martillos had created those currents quite nicely, starting on the very first day.
Even in diplomatic terms, no one could have called the room the Martillos had been assigned an advantageous site. They’d effectively been exiled to a corner of the basement, but they knew how to attract customers to places like that.
After all, the gambling den Firo ran was in a similar location: a small territory, pushed away by its neighbors.
✦ ✦ ✦
All the syndicates did fairly well promoting their casinos on the first day, and some who didn’t know about the underlying situation began to think, Is this actually a handout from the Runorata Family?
That thought would definitely come back to bite them.
Meanwhile, those who were extremely wary of the Runoratas assumed that the real contest would begin on day two.
Everybody knew that the first day was a time for sizing up the situation.
There weren’t many important figures in Ra’s Lance yet, and not all that much money.
The actual showdown would start the following night.
That was what everybody thought, and they were proved correct as the day drew to a close.
✦ ✦ ✦
However—
—fate did begin to make some major changes.
The action wasn’t in the casinos.
Instead, many different fates began to stir late that night. So many, in fact, that one might wonder if that wasn’t the reason they’d decided the event should last three days.
✦ ✦ ✦
The one whose fate began to shift most dramatically was—ironically—the man who’d tried hardest to escape its torrent.
Nader Schasschule.
✦ ✦ ✦
The first day, Nader had devoted himself to observation.
He hadn’t placed any large bets, just keeping an eye on the flow of money in each of the rooms.
From what he’d seen, there were no disturbances in the casino’s financial currents. Winners won, losers lost, and the house turned a decent profit. The only currents were ordinary ones.
Nader had spent long years slipping into places like these as a grifter; for him, this wasn’t a glittering society gala where chips flew back and forth. It was more like a rough sketch that hadn’t been colored yet.
He and Eve had split up to look for Dallas, the man in the photograph he’d been shown, but he’d had no luck on that front yet. The guy might be in disguise, or maybe he just wasn’t participating today.
Nader had seen no sign of Huey’s organization, either. The day might end without incident, and all he would have seen was the setting.
✦ ✦ ✦
There was one thing he’d noticed, though.
Several singularities were developing in the flow of money.
A strangely energetic couple was ignoring the current and currying major wins and losses, over and over again. They were part of it, but what concerned Nader most was the woman who was lying low and devoting herself to watching—just as he was—and somehow still winning.
She might make a good “in.”
Nader grinned, then started observing the woman. He continued placing small bets, sticking with the general flow so that no one would notice what he was up to. He let himself fade into the background and become just another face in the crowd of “extras” who didn’t make waves while he quietly analyzed what it was about the woman that was off.
Ever since he first set foot in Ra’s Lance, he’d been reclaiming his past self, little by little. It almost felt like a miracle, worked by the casino’s magic.
…And the conclusion he reached was a terribly simple one: