She was pulled out of her reverie by the cocktail waitress, who was putting the drinks down on the napkins. The woman put down a piece of paper and left. Cassie turned it over and saw she owed four dollars. She pulled a ten from her pocket and put it down.
Cassie watched the bubbles floating up through the beer and forming a half-inch layer of foam at the top of the glass. She remembered the foam in Max's mustache that night. She knew deep inside that what she was going to do this night was as much about Max as about anything else. She had come to believe that somehow there would be a lightening of her guilt, a redemption for all that had gone before if she did this thing right. It was a crazy thought but it was one she had secretly grabbed on to and now seemed to have placed as high as all others. The thought was that if she did this right she could reach back across the tide of time and make up for things, even for just a moment.
She picked up her Coke and looked around to make sure no one was watching. She caught a woman staring at her but then quickly realized that she was looking at her own face in the mirrored wall at the back of the lounge. Because of the wig and the hat and the glasses she had momentarily not realized who she was looking at.
She quickly looked away. She picked up her glass, reached across the table and tapped it lightly on Max's glass of beer.
"To the end," she said quietly. "To the place where the desert is ocean."
She took a sip and tasted the small hint of cherry. She then put her drink down and got up from the table. She left the lounge and walked back through the casino to the elevators.
She followed the ritual. She didn't look back.
17
AT 3:05 A.M . Cassie Black opened the door to room 2015 , looked both ways, and came out into the hallway with the desk chair. Her disguise was now gone. She wore black jeans and a tight black sleeveless T-shirt. Around her waist was the small fanny pack with the tools she would need. She placed the chair beneath the wall sconce next to the door of room 2014 and stepped up on it. After licking her gloved fingers she reached over the lip of the sconce and turned the light bulb until it went out. She then moved the chair to a spot below the sconce next to 2015 and turned that bulb out as well. She returned the chair to her room and came back to the hallway with an empty black pillowcase and the night-vision goggles hanging from a strap around her neck.
She closed her door against the flip-over lock so it would not close all the way and then stepped across to Hernandez's door. She unhooked the DO NOT DISTURB sign and lowered it to the floor. She raised the card key, checked the time on her watch, and then slid the card through the electronic reader. The little green light on the door handle's face plate glowed. She silently turned the handle and began pushing the door open.
There was a slight click and then the earthquake wax made a sucking sound as it gave way and the flip-over lock came off the doorjamb. Cassie's fingers came through the opening crack and grasped it before it could fall or rattle against the door. At the same moment she heard the clip from Hernandez's electronic alarm fall from the doorjamb, the alarm silenced by Cassie's tampering. She swung herself around the door and then carefully and silently pushed it closed. She unhooked the flip-over bar and placed it down on the carpet. She stood up and held still a moment as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the suite and she felt the rush run through her. It had been a long time but she remembered the feeling well. The adrenaline was searing through her blood. She felt its soft and welcome finger move down her spine. It seemed as though all the fine blond hair on her arms was standing with the electric current.
Finally, she moved into the suite and scanned the living room. She found it empty as expected and focused her attention on the double doors leading to the bedroom. One of them had been left open and from the room beyond came the sound of deep and heavy snoring. Leo had been on the money again, Cassie thought. Hernandez was a snorer. It was like having an early-warning system built into the caper.
Cassie went through the open door and stepped into the blue glow of the bedroom. She saw that she had been right, the television had reverted to the blue menu screen after the movie Hernandez had been watching had ended. It cast enough light into the room that she decided she would not need to use the goggles.
Cassie could see the shape of Hernandez's great, round body slowly rising and falling in the blue light. His snoring was deep and resonant. Cassie wondered if he was married and if his wife could even sleep in the same room with him.
Beyond him on the bed table the numbers of the clock glowed red. She had plenty of time. Next to the clock she saw Hernandez's watch and wallet - and the gun. Hernandez had apparently removed it from the jacket in the closet to keep it at the ready. She moved around the bed to approach the bed table. Hernandez groaned and started to move. She froze.
Hernandez lifted his head and dropped it, opened his mouth and closed it, and then adjusted the position of his body. He was lying on his back, covered to the neck with the bedspread. The bedsprings protested under the redistribution of his weight but then he finally found comfort and stopped moving.
After a long moment of remaining still, Cassie took the last three steps to the bed table and reached for the gun. She slowly unfolded the pillowcase and put it inside. She put the wallet in next and picked up the watch. She turned it over in her hand, careful to prevent its metal band from chinking. She ran her thumb over the wrist plate and found it to be smooth stainless steel. There was no variation in the feel as there should have been from the Rolex seal stamped on the plate. The watch was a counterfeit. She silently put it back down on the bed table and slowly backed away from the bed.
She had to fight the urge to immediately go to the safe, grab the cash and run. But she knew she had to retrieve the cameras. The equipment was proprietary. It could be traced to Hooten L&S. If it could be traced there it could possibly be traced to Jersey Paltz. From him the trail could lead back to her and Leo.
She pulled the chair away from the desk, positioned it under the smoke detector camera and slowly stepped up onto it. She opened the casing and with a small pair of wire snips taken from the pack on her belt she cut the connection to the Conduct-O tape. She then carefully closed the cover and pulled the smoke detector off the wall, its adhesive strip making a snick sound as it came free. She turned on the chair and looked down at the bed. Hernandez didn't move.
Climbing down, Cassie almost shouted when she caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror on the back of one of the doors and mistook it for someone else in the room. She shoved the smoke detector into the pillowcase and put the chair back in its place. Turning her back to the bed she brought her wrist in close to her chest and pressed the illumination button on her watch. It was now 3:11 and she had only the closet and safe remaining.
From the fanny pack she removed the painter's putty knife. She clicked on the night-vision glasses and pulled them up in front of her eyes. She spotted the pencil mark on the door frame and slid the blade of the tool into the crack. Following the same procedure as before, she opened the closet without the interior light being activated. Once she was inside and the doors were closed, she carefully and silently slid Hernandez's clothes to one side, then stepped up onto the safe and reached to the bulb overhead. She unscrewed it and left it on the shelf next to the extra pillow.
She crouched on the floor and used a screwdriver to remove the electric socket plate containing the second camera. She snipped the tape as well. Last came the transmitter. She reached behind the safe, grasped the antenna and pulled it out of its hiding place. She cut the tape connections and secured it in the pillowcase with the rest of the equipment.
Now the safe. She took a deep breath, reached to the keypad and carefully typed in the combination of 4-3-5-1-2 she had committed to memory. The safe came open, making a soft phump sound like that of a can of fresh tennis balls being opened. She froze and waited, her left ear next to the door slats. Hernandez's snoring continued uninterrupted.
Cassie carefully pulled
the safe's door open all the way, then shifted her position so that her body mass was between the opening and the bedroom behind her. She pulled the goggles down around her neck and took the small penlight from the pack. She reached it into the safe before turning it on.
The light illuminated the thick stack of currency she had watched Hernandez put together. Next to the money was a keychain with four keys on it. And nothing else.
Cassie flicked the light out and sat still for a moment thinking about this. Where were the contents of the briefcase? Where was the half million dollars in cash Leo's partners had promised?
She reached back into the safe and grabbed the stack of money, bringing it out and spreading it on her lap. She flicked the light on for a second and saw the currency appeared to be all one-hundred-dollar bills. Her rough estimate was that she had close to a hundred thousand dollars in her lap. A lot of money to be sure - more than she had ever had or stolen. But it wasn't as much as she expected and had been told to expect. Something was wrong. Where was the briefcase?
She realized she had not seen it while moving through the other rooms. She would now have to go back into the suite and find it. Perhaps Hernandez had grown lazy and decided not to open the case and transfer its contents to the closet safe. Perhaps, with his gun and his door alarm, he believed he and the case were safe.
Cassie put the stack of cash into the pillowcase, closed the safe and stood up. She carefully wrapped the loose end of the pillowcase around her right hand, drawing it tight so that the contents would not rustle against each other. She pushed open the right door and was stepping out of the closet and into the blue glow of the room when the phone on the bed table rang.
Cassie jerked herself back into the closet and silently pulled the door closed.
The phone rang a second time and she heard Hernandez stirring. She realized she had made a mistake. Rather than having retreated to the closet she should have moved, gotten out of there with what she had, and retreated to the room across the hall.
Now she was stuck. It was probably going to be security on the phone - they had discovered that someone had entered the room across the hall!
The bedsprings sighed as Hernandez moved on the bed. He answered the phone on the fourth ring.
"Hello?" he said in a scratchy voice.
Cassie just closed her eyes and listened. She was helpless.
"The fuck you doing?" Hernandez said angrily. "What time is it?"
Cassie opened her eyes. She remembered the gun and wallet. If Hernandez put on the light he would surely see them missing and then come directly to the closet to check the safe.
"Three hours' difference, you moron."
Cassie reached into the pack and wrapped her fingers around the stun gun. While it was still inside the pack she switched it on, then carefully and quietly pulled it out. She realized as soon as she had it out that the red light indicating that the device was on was not on. She flicked the switch off and on again but didn't get the light. The device was dead. She realized she hadn't turned it off after hiding it in her backpack for her meeting with Jersey Paltz. Leaving it on and the jolt that had been delivered to Paltz had sapped the stored charge. It was useless.
She looked through the door slats and in the blue light saw the hulking form of Hernandez sitting on the side of the bed. She then lowered the pillowcase to the floor and reached inside it.
"Yeah, well, call me then. I don't care how nervous he is, what am I going to do about it at a quarter after three in the goddamn morning?"
She pulled the gun out.
"Yeah, yeah, later. Good-bye."
Cassie heard him slam down the phone.
"Fuck!" he called out.
The blue glow from the television was extinguished, dropping the closet into complete darkness. Cassie heard the bedsprings move as Hernandez tried to get comfortable and return to sleep. She was pulling the goggles up into place when Hernandez let out another expletive.
"Fuck!"
A light in the bedroom was turned on. Cassie heard the bed protesting and then heavy footfalls on the carpet, coming closer. Hernandez was coming toward the closet. She slowly backed as far into the closet as she could and raised the gun in a two-handed, elbow-locked grip. She told herself that she would not shoot. She would only back him off until she could escape.
Hernandez's wide shadow eclipsed the light coming through the slats. Cassie braced herself.
But then the shadow was gone and the closet doors didn't open. Cassie dropped her aim and took a step toward the door. In a few moments she heard the toilet seat bang against the tank, then came the sound of Hernandez urinating. She lowered the gun all the way and fought the urge to cut and run, to grab the pillowcase and go for the door. She could be on the stairs before Hernandez figured out what was going on. And she would have the gun. He could do nothing but call security. This time of night it would be a skeleton crew. She'd be out of the hotel before anyone could react.
But she stayed in the closet and waited. She knew the best escape was the undetected escape. But that wasn't her reason. The briefcase was the reason. She wanted that case. She needed it.
After the toilet was flushed another long period passed and then Hernandez finally walked back past her viewing point and got back into the bed. The light went out without his noticing that the wallet and gun were missing from the bed table.
Cassie slowly moved down to the floor and sat with her knees up and her back against the safe. She brought her wrist up and pressed the button that lighted the face of her watch. It was now 3:20 and she felt a searing sense of loss. She folded her arms on her knees and put her head down. She knew she wasn't going to leave the closet until well after the void moon began. She couldn't risk it.
Cassie thought about Leo. She wondered if he was awake this late and if he was thinking about the void moon, if he was checking his watch. He had called it a bad luck time. But to Cassie, the bad luck had come before the void moon had started. It was that phone call to Hernandez. That was the bad luck. She would have to tell Leo that. Explain it. Surely he would understand. And if he didn't, Cassie would make him.
18
AT 3:46 A.M . Cassie Black opened her eyes in the bedroom closet of the man she was trying to steal from. That man had finally started to snore again and Cassie knew it was time to make her final move. She slowly stood up and pushed the closet door open. She pulled the goggles up over her eyes and looked at the bed. She could see Hernandez under the covers with his head propped up on two pillows. If he opened his eyes he would be staring right at her, but his deep breathing and the guttural pitch of his snoring indicated he was down deep into sleep. It didn't matter to Cassie anymore if he awoke. She was tired of waiting. It was time for her to find the briefcase and get out of the suite and out of Las Vegas for good.
She stooped down and massaged her left calf. It had cramped up while she waited. When she was ready she wrapped the pillowcase around her hand and again slowly pushed the closet door all the way open.
For a moment Cassie stood motionless in the bedroom and studied the sleeping hulk on the bed. It was always the strangest part of a job, to observe the mark sleeping. It was like knowing a secret you weren't supposed to know. She began a sweeping look around the room in search of the briefcase but it was nowhere in sight.
She backed into the alcove and checked the bathroom. Nothing. She came back into the bedroom, got down on the floor and reached the penlight under the bed. She flicked it on, revealing the space to be empty save for an assortment of dust balls and a room service menu.
Cassie got up and went into the living room, where she surveyed every square foot of the room but found nothing that even hinted at the location of the briefcase. She started panicking and thinking about her decision earlier to go down to the bar for a cherry Coke and to rekindle memories of her last moments with Max. During that time had Hernandez possibly gotten up from bed, left the suite and stashed the briefcase, only to return and go right back to sleep?
It seemed ludicrous, except for the fact that she could not find the briefcase.
Suddenly she remembered the safe. Hernandez's keys had inexplicably been inside it. Cassie tried to determine what this could mean and quickly came to a conclusion. The keychain held keys that opened the briefcase and the handcuffs. To put those keys in the safe rather than to take measures safeguarding the case and its contents would be done only if those measures had been taken in some other way. If Hernandez had not left the suite, how else other than with use of the safe could he safeguard the case?
Cassie moved back into the bedroom and surveyed the bed. She visualized what she had seen through the peephole when Hernandez had opened the door. The briefcase had been attached to his right hand. She came around the right side of the bed and gently pressed her hands down on the rumpled bedcovers, careful to stay away from formations created by Hernandez's body. She didn't breathe as she did this. It was the closest she had ever come to a mark. It was too close and every one of her senses was focused on the bed and the huge body that snored beneath the covers.
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