Gotta Dance with the One Who Brung Ya - sex, scandals and sweethearts

by Jon McDonald

  ◘ ◘ ◘

  There was a ringing silence in the rehearsal hall. Lan had just made his announcement to the orchestra. There were thirty-eight blank stares gazing up at him – a small orchestra by professional concert standards, but Lan liked to think of it as a lean, mean, musical machine.

  Lainee (second cello) raised her hand. “How much is the severance?”

  “That hasn’t been determined yet,” Lan responded.

  “Isn’t there something else the board can do? Couldn’t we at least play out the season?” asked David (flute, piccolo, recorder).

  “Mr. Case was adamant. Unless the board can come up with five hundred thousand by the end of the month we’ll have to close. And he wasn’t very hopeful about that. And as he and his wife were just flying out for a trip to France, I don’t think fund raising is upper-most in his mind right now.

  “Maybe we could do something,” Brenda (clarinet) suggested, looking around hopefully at the others.

  Betty (oboe and bassoon) tentatively raised her hand, “What about a bake sale? My cupcakes are world famous.”

  Ralph (percussion) leaned forward, “Betty, I think it will take considerably more than a bake sale to get us out of this stinking hole.”

  Randal (first violin and concert master) spoke up, “I would gladly sell my Stradivarius…” Smiles, cheers and applause broke out across the orchestra. “But, of course, I really don’t have one – sadly,” he added softly to great disappointment.

  Lan took charge once again. “All this speculation is very nice, but we have to be much more practical. This is already the fifth. That gives us till the end of the month to come up with something that will work. I want you all to give this some serious thought, and if you have any fertile ideas please let me know. I, for one, am willing to pursue any avenue that might present itself. I hope all of you are too. Talk our situation up with your family and friends. Maybe someone outside the orchestra will have a brilliant idea. You never know.”

  ◘ ◘ ◘

  Lan was beside himself. He had been to the Chamber of Commerce pleading for help. They had smiled politely and shown him the door. He had gone to the Las Vegas Arts Council only to find that their office doors were permanently closed due to lack of funds as well. And he had sat for three days outside the Mayor’s office hoping to plead his case there. But he finally learned that the Mayor had just been indicted for embezzlement in a ponzi scheme involving himself and half the City Council.

  Poor Lan was actually losing weight over the stress of the whole affair - though Clarissa had always admired his heft. But he was not losing it in the manor or fashion that he would have wished.

  Las Vegas was currently experiencing an unexpected January cold snap. Lan was hurriedly crossing a large outdoor pedestrian plaza. The wind was whipping around his neck, and he pulled the collar of his coat up around his ears and cast his head down. As he paced briskly along, his eyes scanning the plaza, he noticed for the first time the pattern radiating out from the center. Rays like the spokes of a wheel burst from a central sun embedded in the plaza – not unlike a grinning happy face. It was then that an idea exploded in Lan’s mind. The pattern suggested a roulette wheel, and Lan believed he might have found the solution to their problems.

  ◘ ◘ ◘

  The orchestra was eagerly awaiting Lan’s arrival. He had called the group together with the promise of a proposed solution. They gathered in their somewhat unorthodox rehearsal hall. As they did not own a concert performing space, but only rented a hall for performances, they had to rehearse on a stage in a school gymnasium. This meant having to share rehearsal time with basketball practice, cheerleader tryouts and even gym class dodge ball occasionally. Today the custodian was repainting the basketball court stripes and large fans were blowing the fumes out the exit doors at the other end of the gymnasium. To say that everyone was uncomfortable and on edge would be a monstrous understatement.

  Lan rushed in a little late - his face flushed and his rosy cheeks aglow. But he was smiling – a hopeful sign. Everyone sighed in relief, and waited for his proposal.

  Lan stood in front of the group, grinning broadly, but he didn’t speak right up, as he wanted to savor the looming delight he would have in relieving the orchestra of their fears.

  “Get on with it Humpty, we’re all going crazy here,” Ralph (percussion) spoke up. “What’s your proposal?”

  Lan continued to smile and nod for a delicious moment more - then finally, “Well, I’ve had a sterling idea.” He paused for emphasis. “I got the brilliant idea that to raise the funds we need to keep going we should come together, pool our resources, and win the funds at roulette.” He continued beaming, but it was clear that his idea had hit a wall with the members of the orchestra. The disappointed looks on their faces was evidence enough to know that this idea was not being well received.

  “What? What’s this I see? Are you not enthusiastic?” Lan lamented.

  Ralph did a riff on the cymbals that succinctly expressed his frustration. “Come on Hump,” he moaned. “First of all, where are we going to get the money to play, and secondly how can we possibly win? You know who the tables favor.”

  The other members of the orchestra seemed to agree as Lan listened to their random negative comments.

  Lan was hurt. “Well then, do any of you geniuses have any other great ideas?”

  Betty (oboe, bassoon) tentatively raised her hand.

  “Yes, Betty.”

  “Well, I was talking to some members of the Musician’s Union - you know there are a lot of us here because of all the big shows in the casinos – and I was explaining our situation. They really want to help but didn’t know how. Maybe there’s some way we could approach them. They might have some constructive ideas.”

  William (double bass) spoke up, “I have some friends in Equity. I was chatting with them about this. They said they could get a lot of the other LV performers behind us if we came up with a good plan.”

  “Good, good,” Lan encouraged more ideas, waving them on.

  Veronica (second viola) stood up. “I know this might be a long shot, but my boyfriend works at the Valentino. He said creeps are trying various scam gaming systems all the time. He said that most of them are easily detected by the casino management. They have security covering every table and monitor all the games.”

  “I don’t understand. Then how does that help us?” Lan countered.

  “Well, that’s just it. Jocko - that’s my boyfriend - says he’s figured out an absolutely fool proof system for roulette and wants to try it on a large scale but doesn’t have the funds to implement it properly.”

  “How much would he need?” Carl (French horn) asked.

  “He says his system could turn five thousand into a million – easily.” Veronica beamed.

  “Oh hey, now that’s hard to believe,” David (flute, piccolo, recorder) piped up. “What makes him think his system is any less detectable than any of the others?”

  “Yeah,” several of the other members responded.

  “He took a trip to Reno recently, and turned five hundred bucks into over ten thousand. But, sadly, he had to pay all the proceeds to his bookie - and he’s still in the hole.”

  A hush came over the orchestra. Even Lan was sobered.

  “Why didn’t he go for more? If his system is that good he could have broke the bank,” Randal (first violin, Concert Master) stood in his excitement.

  “That’s just it. He didn’t want to raise any suspicion. He figured a nice little return was enough to test the system,” Veronica answered.

  Lan proceeded cautiously, “So, do you think your boyfriend would be willing to help us and teach us his system? He wouldn’t have to be involved at all. We could do all the gambling.”

  “Well I don’t know…. Not sure he would be willing to share his secret. He sees his system as a very valuable asset. He might want a cut of the proceeds,” Veronica hedged.

  “I don’t see why that would be
a problem, do you?” Lan asked the orchestra.

  They agreed.

  “But where are we going to get the five thousand? It’s not like we’re swimming in cash,” Ralph (percussion) asked somewhat inconveniently.

  Carl (French horn) asked thoughtfully, “What if we contacted the musicians and performers around town who offered to help and ask them to chip in a little each – as a loan? It would only take a hundred of them to chip in fifty bucks each and we’d have five thousand in a flash. We could easily pay them back right after.”

  “Hey, I’m sure we can find a hundred folks to lend fifty each, don’t you think?” Lan beamed.

  The group cheered.

  “Now then, we need to make plans for the actual day of the event. Let’s see, let’s call it - Operation Leitmotif.” Lan was getting quite enthused, and his cheeks were flushed and his eyes twinkled.

  “But how are we going to do this? We need a plan,” Carl (French horn) called out.

  “You’re right. Yes we do. Obviously we can’t all go to the casino as a group. We need a small team to execute the plan. Who of you have any experience with roulette?” Lan enquired.

  No hands immediately went up.

  “Come now, don’t be shy,” Lan pushed. “There’s no judgment here about who of you gamble. Come now, we only need about four of us. I’ll gladly be one of the group. Who else? Raise your hands. Veronica, obviously we need you, as it’s your boyfriend’s system. Yes?”

  Veronica nodded.

  “Now just two more…”

  Tentatively a few other hands came up.

  “Excellent.” Lan pointed. “Ralph, you - and how about another woman. Betty?”

  She nodded yes.

  “Right then. Now, let’s set a time for our team to meet with Jocko.”

  ◘ ◘ ◘

  Jocko was what you might call a bit of a “sharpie” – cool and slick, and just a little bit mean. Probably about twenty-eight years old - maybe a knife fight or two in his background - dark hair, a pencil moustache, and piercing eyes that were as dense and cold as highly polished onyx. Everyone in the team silently wondered what Veronica saw in him. But as he spoke they could see he had a certain tinge of rough charm.

  “So, Von tells me you guys need to raise some serious cash to keep this gig of yours going. That right?” Jocko jumped right in - Von being his nickname for Veronica.

  “That’s correct, young fellow,” Lan said, taking the lead for the team.

  “Okay, first off, we can’t do it at the casino where I work. Can’t take the chance of blowing my job there.”

  “Understood and agreed,” Lan acknowledged.

  “And my cut is twenty-five percent.”

  “Fifteen,” Lan countered.

  “Nope. Twenty-five or I walk. Gotta get my value.” He stared Lan down. Lan looked at the other team members who nodded assent.

  “Very well, though I protest,” Lan conceded.

  Jocko studied Lan before he continued, “What’s your stake?”

  Veronica rummaged in her purse and pulled out a wad of cash. “We’ve raised thirty-seven hundred from friends around the business,” she added.

  “Hum. Thought we were playing with five G’s,” Jocko chided.

  “It’s all we could raise,” Veronica apologized.

  “Okay, I guess we can do it with that. But it might take a little longer to get to five hundred G’s with my system.” He eyed them with just a touch of menace. “You sure you guys are up for this? It’s going to take some boss nerves to play this out.”

  The team nodded.

  “Okay then, let’s get down to work.”

  ◘ ◘ ◘

  The knowledge and interest in this little project had grown exponentially within the Las Vegas performance community. Networks had sprouted up amongst performers, animal trainers, musicians - and even a few of the stars asked to be informed of the results. The day of the event scouts were strategically placed throughout the chosen casino to text messages to a tree of contacts as to the progress of the Leitmotif Team.

  The Venezia Casino had been chosen as the mark for this fundraiser, because it was very large, flush with cash, and Jocko had determined it had the laxest security. Jocko had gone in early to scope the place out and determine where the security goons were located. He spotted the security cameras and strategically chose the best wheel for the group to bet at.

  The Leitmotif Team was anxiously waiting in the lobby. Lan had purchased the chips for the betting, and Betty had had to go to the bathroom three times to calm her nerves. For whatever reason, they had all dressed up - too many James Bond movies perhaps. But this was not Monaco, and they looked somewhat ridiculous compared to the cowboys, bar girls, and Midwestern housewives who usually lost their wages or savings in the high stakes room.

  Jocko came out to the lobby to get them, but by this time, they were all in the bar fortifying their courage.

  “Okay gang,” Jocko urged when he finally found them, “Let’s rock and roll.” Jocko had schooled them endlessly in the intricacies of the system. He had brought in a full size roulette wheel and he had had them run the system over and over again till they were as expert as he was. Each had their part to perform, and he made them practice so thoroughly that they could dream their part in their sleep. Now it was time.

  They sidled up to the chosen table one by one. They had to look as though they were not together as a group. Lan was the actual player. Each of the others was to keep track of the wheel and signal to Lan when he should place a bet and on what number. It was very mathematical and required intense concentration. But as they were all musicians, and music is not that far removed from mathematics, it was not that great a stretch for them.

  Ralph was calculating the winnings and keeping an eye on Security. Veronica and Betty were acting as a team. They placed tiny bets and it didn’t matter if they won or lost. They were there to create a distraction as well as giving signals to Lan. They were very vocal and playing their parts to the hilt. All the men at the table were ogling the women and not really paying that much attention to their own betting, or more importantly to what Lan was betting. And he was sailing right along. His pile of chips grew. He had Ralph changing his large pile of small chips into smaller piles of large chips so as not to be too conspicuous. Jocko stayed way off to the sidelines, observing but not participating. The performer’s scouts were texting madly to the communication tree, reporting on each win and the relative size of the stack of accumulated chips.

  But despite their careful planning and stratagems for remaining unnoticed, the watchful eyes from the security room were, even now, beginning to suspect that something was going on at table fifteen. They had seen just about every scheme and system imaginable, and were able to shut down any scam, and hustle the offenders out the door quicker than the time between a celebrity’s marriage and divorce. They would then alert the other the casinos to the culprits and they would be shut out of Las Vegas forever.

  Tom Sharp was the top security honcho. He leaned over and examined the screens covering table fifteen. Yes, the action there was definitely suspicious.

  “Gimme a close-up of the Santa dude,” Tom instructed the technician operating the cameras at fifteen. He complied. “Hum. Very subtle. Let me see the two ladies at the side there.” Tom then studied them and could see they were sending little signals to the older man, “Carl, take a look at this.” Tom called to his assistant for confirmation.

  “Sure looks like they’re playing a system for sure,” Carl added.

  “Hey guys, take a look at this.” Ruben, another video technician, alerted the two chiefs. He showed them a text message on his cell phone. It read – UP TO 200K & STIL GOIN STRNG.

  “I picked up my girlfriend’s phone by mistake this morning,” Ruben added. “She’s been getting strange messages like this all day.”

  “You think it’s something that relates to this?” Tom asked.

  “Don’ know. Don’ know. Can you calculate
the amount of the old guy’s chips?”

  Tom squinted at the monitor. He nodded. “Yep, just about two hundred K.”

  Trenton, another tech spoke up, “Yeah, my old lady works backstage at the Cavalcade show. She was telling me about this pops orchestra that’s been trying to raise enough cash to keep their doors open. Seems they were going to try to get it with a gaming scheme. They have this whole cell phone communication network set up to keep everybody informed as to what’s happening. Bet you anything that’s what that message is about.”

  “Do you know which casino they were planning to play?” Tom asked.

  “Not a clue.”

  “Get Chet down here.” Tom ordered Carl to fetch the General Manager.

  ◘ ◘ ◘

  Lan was beginning to sweat hard now that they had reached three hundred and fifty thousand. He was becoming more nervous the higher the winnings became, and he had to pee really, really badly. But they had not thought to plan for any breaks. If only he could get Jocko to step over and replace him for just a quick moment, but he knew Jocko wouldn’t do that.

  “Sir, would you step this way please.” Lan looked up in sudden panic. He was surrounded on either side by two men in suits with faces that could crush rocks.

  “I beg your pardon,” Lan summoned in mock indignation.

  “If you’ll just follow us, please.”

  Lan could see that both Veronica and Betty were also being ushered away from the table. Lan threw a glance over at Jocko at the other side of the room but he had already disappeared.

  Lan, Ralph and the girls were quickly hustled away to a small windowless room with just a table and a few chairs. Their chips had been confiscated, and they were locked in the room alone without a word as to what would happen next.

  “Oh dear….” Lan sighed.

  Both Veronica and Betty were trying to stifle their tears. Ralph sat in a morose silence.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve let you all down, I’m afraid. Silly idea, really….” Lan apologized.

  “It’s not your fault. We all agreed,” Betty said, putting on a brave face.