Pausing for a moment to allow my eyes to adjust to the relative darkness, I casually scanned the banks of monitors that dotted the long wall opposite the door. They formed an electronic mosaic, an ever-changing glimpse of life in all parts of the casino and hotel—other than the guest rooms and the bathrooms. Don’t ever let them say there are no boundaries in Vegas. At this time of the morning, with action across the property winding down, only a few of Jerry’s staff sat in front of the wall of monitors, searching the feeds for anything unusual. This being Vegas, unusual was a relative term. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say they were looking for anything criminal, as were the others seated in front of a smaller bank of monitors on an adjacent wall. These were the gaming experts. More often than not, they were former cheats, experts at scamming the casinos. After paying their debt to society, they helped us ferret out those in their former profession. Jerry stood behind his staff, his hands clasped behind his back, his feet spread like a captain manning the bridge as his ship rode the swells.
