Show Business Is Murder by Stuart M. Kaminsky Read Free Book Online Page A

last spin. That’s eleven thousand for the night. We’d give you three thousand a night, nine thousand a week.”
    â€œWho’s we?”
    â€œI can’t win it all myself. I’d need a partner making some of the bets. If it works out we can keep at it.”
    â€œIn Vegas that’s small change.”
    â€œIt adds up.”
    Wanda shook her head. “Not me. Get someone else.”
    â€œSomeone else? There is no one else. It’s your act!”
    â€œLook, Sam, I don’t know you. I never saw you before tonight. Why should I trust you and go along with this harebrained scheme?”
    â€œThink of it as another performance. It would even top what you’re doing now.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHere’s my phone number. At least think about it over the weekend and give me a call.”
    FOR SOME REASON she kept the card and did think about it. On Saturday night she went to see the Blue Man Group at one of the casinos on the strip. They were the best known of the performance artists and sometimes she envied them for their success. Maybe she needed some partners. Thinking about Sam Dole, she finally decided that what he’d said about another performance was right. It was still her creation, whether or not she could see through the blindfold. “Just one night,” she told him over the phone. “This Wednesday. I‘m nervous about it.”
    â€œBeats spending the day in a birdcage.”
    â€œBut it’s a lot riskier if Franklyn finds out. Make sure he doesn’t.”
    â€œDon’t worry. We’d better not talk or see each other again until afterward. This is what I want you to do. Justcolors, because they’re easier than numbers to see accurately through the blindfold. Forget the zero and double zero because you may not land near enough to them. Pick the colored slots in this order for your thirteen appearances. You’d better write them down. Red, red, black, black, red, black, red, black, black, red, black, black, red. That’s seven black, six red. Got it?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI won’t see you Wednesday night. Thursday night I’ll be in my car behind the Landing Strip at midnight to give you your cut and talk about the next show.”
    â€œI don’t work Thursday,” she reminded him. “We can make it earlier if you want.”
    â€œNo, midnight’s best for me. I’ll see you then.”
    Wanda hung up, wondering what she was getting herself into.
    ON WEDNESDAY JUDD Franklyn greeted her at the door as he always did. “Good to see you, Wanda. Feeling lucky tonight?”
    He’d never asked her that before. “What good does it do me to feel lucky? I don’t bet.”
    When she mounted the turntable at the center of the wheel at nine o’clock, she glanced casually around at the faces in the crowd. At first she didn’t see Sam Dole, but after she donned the doctored blindfold she spotted him with a short young woman who was making a bet. Then she crouched down as the turntable started to spin. She rolled off the padded wheel and stretched out her joined hands. Just ahead of her was eighteen red. She didn’t even have to cheat.
    There were the usual cheers and groans from the players, and then applause as she took her bow and promised to return in fifteen minutes. She didn’t see Dole, but she assumed he or his friend had collected their winnings. Theevening went along routinely after that. Once around eleven o’clock, between performances, she went to the bar for some tonic water and found herself standing next to the young woman who’d been with Dole.
    â€œHaving any luck?” she asked casually.
    â€œOff and on,” the young woman replied. “You do this for a living?”
    â€œI’ve had some Off-Broadway gigs and I was at the Brooklyn Museum last year. Performance art is hard to define sometimes. This is my first experience as a human