"Yeah, Tony's all right," Vito agreed.
"Vito, I'm going to tell you something, and I hope you'll believe me," Mr. Rosselli said.
"Why shouldn't I believe you?"
"You should. When I asked you to come by the Warwick for a couple of shooters, a couple of laughs, that was all I had in mind. You believe me?"
"Absolutely. And I wanted to come, and if I had the clothes, I would have. Next time."
"Right. Next time," Mr. Rosselli said. "But between the time I seen you and the plumbers…what's all that going to cost you, by the way?"
"A fucking bundle is what it's going to cost me. Those bastards know they've got you by the short hair."
"Yeah, I figured. Well, what the hell are you going to do? You can bitch all you want, but in the end, you end up paying, right?"
"Right."
"Like I was saying, Vito, between the time I was at your house and tonight, something has come up. We got a little problem that maybe you can help us with."
"What kind of a problem?"
"You ever hear of the guy that broke the bank at Monte Carlo?" He waited until Vito nodded, and then went on: "We had a guy between nine o'clock and nine-fifteen tonight, that goddamned near broke the bank at Oaks and Pines."
"No shit?"
"Sonofabitch was drunk, which probably had a lot to do with it, a sober guy wouldn't have bet the way he did."
"Like how?"
"He was playing roulette. He bet a hundred, split between Zero and Double Zero. He hit. That gave him eighteen hundred. He let that ride. He hit again…"
"Jesus!"
"That gave him, what? Thirty thousand, thirty-two thousand, something like that."
Vito thought: Jesus Christ, that's the kind of luck I need!
He said, "I'll be goddamned!"
"Yeah," Mr. Rosselli agreed. "At that point, right, a good gambler, a goodsober gambler, would know it was time to quit, right?"
"You said it!"
"This guy let it ride," Mr. Rosselli said, awe in his voice.
"Don't tell me he hit again?"
"Okay, I won't tell you. With the kind of luck you've been having, it would be painful for you."
"He hit?" Vito asked incredulously.
"You understand how this works, Vito? Let me tell you how it works: A small place, like Oaks and Pines, it's not the Flamingo in Las Vegas, we have to have table limits."
"Sure," Vito said understandingly.
"On roulette, it's a thousand, unless the pit boss okays it, and then it's twenty-five hundred. Except:"
"Except what?"