Read Void Moon Page 19


  The thief apparently used several different means of entering the hotel rooms - from air-conditioning vents to gaining room keys from unsuspecting housekeepers and front-desk employees. None of the victims ever saw the thief, who came in after they had gone to sleep. A police source said the thief may have monitored his targets through hidden cameras but would not elaborate.

  Karch stopped reading. Because it was the first article on the incident, it had the least information, the writer having woven several paragraphs out of a handful of facts. He went on to the next day's story.

  ACCOMPLICE CHARGED IN

  "HIGH-ROLLER" DEATH

  BY DARLENE GUNTER

  Sun Staff Writer A woman police say was the lookout for the so-called High-Roller Robber was charged Thursday with homicide in his death from a fall from the penthouse of the Cleopatra Resort and Casino.

  Cassidy Black, 26, of Las Vegas, was charged under Nevada's felony-homicide law, which holds anyone who takes part in a criminal enterprise responsible for any death that occurs during the commission of the crime.

  Although Black was waiting for Max Freeling in the lobby of the Cleopatra when he crashed through a penthouse window twenty stories above, she is still legally responsible for his death, said Clark County District Attorney John Cavallito.

  Cavallito said Black, who was also charged with burglary and criminal conspiracy, could face 15 years to life in prison if convicted of the charges. She was being held without bail at the county jail.

  "She was just as much a part of this incident and this crime spree as Freeling was," Cavallito said at a press conference. "She was a coconspirator and deserves to be and will be hit with the full weight of the law."

  Freeling's death was ruled an accident and not suicide. He reportedly crashed through one of the windows of the penthouse suite in an effort to avoid capture.

  More details on the dramatic events of early Wednesday morning were revealed by Cavallito and police investigators on Thursday.

  The so-called High-Roller Robber had struck at Strip resorts eleven times in seven months, prompting the Las Vegas Casino Association to put up a $50,000 reward for the capture and conviction of a suspect.

  Police said the thief had allegedly been targeting high rollers who took their winnings in cash with them to their rooms at the end of the day.

  On Tuesday a private investigator hoping to claim the reward money contacted officials at the Cleopatra and told them he believed the High-Roller Robber was currently targeting a guest in the hotel and casino.

  The investigator, Jack Karch, then agreed to serve as a decoy. When the target gambler, whose name was not released, retired for the evening, a switch was made and it was Karch - disguised as the gambler - who went to the penthouse suite.

  Two hours after Karch turned out the lights in the suite and feigned sleep, Freeling entered the room through an air vent he had accessed through the ceiling of the penthouse housekeeping station. As Freeling entered the suite's bedroom he was surprised by Karch, who held him at gunpoint and used a two-way radio to call for help from hotel security agents waiting nearby.

  "Before those agents could get to the room, Mr. Freeling inexplicably made a run for the window," Cavallito said. "He threw his body into it and crashed through and fell."

  Cavallito said there was a small ledge below the window and Freeling may have believed that he could escape on it by moving along the facing of the building to a nearby cable used to lower a window-washing platform down the side of the building.

  However, the momentum of Freeling's body going through the glass carried him past the narrow ledge and down. He crashed through the casino's signature atrium window, creating a panic among the few gamblers in the casino at the time. No one else was hurt.

  Following Thursday's press conference Cavallito answered few questions, citing the ongoing investigation and prosecution of Black. He refused to reveal how it was that Karch, the private investigator, learned that Freeling was targeting a gambler at the Cleopatra.

  Efforts to contact Karch for comment were unsuccessful and messages left on his office answering machine were not returned. As a young child Karch performed on occasion with his father, the now deceased magician known as "The Amazing Karch!" who was a mainstay at Strip casinos and hotels from the '50s to the early '70s.

  The younger Karch was called "Jack of Spades" because of an illusion in which his father placed him in a locked mail sack in a locked crate and he would disappear and be replaced by a playing card - the Jack of spades.

  While Cavallito said Karch has been cleared of any wrongdoing in the death of Freeling, the district attorney did criticize the decision of Karch and Cleopatra officials to set up the sting operation without police involvement.

  "We certainly wish that they had contacted the Metro Police Department before going ahead with this," Cavallito said. "Maybe then this whole incident could have been avoided."

  Vincent Grimaldi, chief of security at the Cleopatra, declined to comment on Cavallito's criticism.

  A spokesman for the Casino Association declined to say whether Karch could claim the reward in light of the death of the suspected thief and arrest of his accomplice.

  More details about Freeling were emerging yesterday as well. Authorities said the suspect had twice before been convicted of burglary and had previously spent a total of four years in state prisons. Freeling was said to have grown up in Las Vegas and, like Karch, was the son of a figure of note. Freeling's father was Carson Freeling, who was convicted in 1963 of taking part in a daring armed robbery of the Royale Casino, a caper which many locals believe was inspired by the film Ocean's Eleven, starring Frank Sinatra and other members of the so-called Rat Pack.

  Maxwell Freeling was three years old at the time of his father's arrest. Carson Freeling died in prison in 1981.

  Karch studied the photo that accompanied the story. It was a mug shot of Cassidy Black taken on the day of her arrest. Her long blond hair was messy and her eyes looked red and sore from crying. He remembered that she had refused to say word one to the Metro cops, even through twelve hours of interrogation. She had stood up and Karch admired that.

  During the investigation of the Freeling incident, Karch had never met her or even been in the same room with her. It was impossible to confirm that the woman in the photograph was the one he had watched on surveillance videos at the Cleo and the Flamingo but in his gut he knew it was.

  He scanned through the remaining few clips until he got to the last story. This one had another photo of Cassidy Black running alongside the story. It showed her in a jailhouse jumpsuit and shackles being led from a courtroom by two bailiffs. There was something about the angle of her jaw and the focus of her eyes upward that he liked. It showed that she still carried her dignity, despite the cuffs and the jumpsuit and the situation she was in.

  His eyes moved over to the story and he read it. It was the last story in the saga, the cleanup. It was short and had been buried inside the Sun.

  HIGH-ROLLER ROBBER

  BLACK ENTERS PLEA, GETS PRISON

  BY DARLENE GUNTER

  Sun Staff Writer Cassidy Black, one of the so-called High-Roller Robbers, pleaded guilty Monday to charges relating to the crime spree that included the dramatic death of her partner two months ago. She was immediately sentenced to state prison.

  In a plea agreement negotiated with the Clark County District Attorney's office, the 26-year-old one-time blackjack dealer pleaded guilty to one count of manslaughter and one count of conspiracy to commit burglary. She was sentenced by Circuit Court Judge Barbara Kaylor to serve five to fifteen years in prison.

  Black, dressed in a yellow jumpsuit, said little during the courtroom hearing. She spoke the word "guilty" after each charge was read by Kaylor and then told the judge she fully understood the ramifications of her plea.

  Black's attorney, Jack Miller, said the agreement was the best Black could do, considering the overwhelming evidence of her involvement with Maxwel
l James Freeling in a seven-month crime spree that ended with her arrest and Freeling's plunge from a penthouse window at the Cleopatra Resort and Casino.

  "This agreement still leaves her a chance to start over," Miller said. "If she keeps her nose clean in prison she can be out in five, six, seven years. She'll still be in her early thirties and that leaves her a lot of time to start over and be productive in society."

  Authorities said the evidence mounted against Black indicated she was Freeling's spotter and lookout on capers in which the hotel suites of high-rolling gamblers were burglarized while they slept.

  Karch dropped the clip onto the others without reading it to the end. Cassidy Black's guilty plea had precluded a trial and allowed him to avoid having to testify about what happened in that suite with Freeling. Her conviction also allowed him to claim the reward, though he'd had to get a lawyer to sue the Casino Association for it. After attorney fees and taxes he had walked away with $ 26,000 in reward money and Grimaldi's leash around his neck. He had allowed himself to become Grimaldi's go-to guy for all the misdeeds and dirty work, the runs out to the desert with the full trunk.

  All that is going to change, Karch said to himself. Soon. Soon.

  Karch carefully refolded the newspaper clippings and closed the file. He then closed the box of cereal and took it back to the kitchen on his way to the front door.

  At the front door he picked up the suit bag he had packed earlier and chose a porkpie hat from the rack. His traveling hat. He looked at the inside lining before putting it on. It was chocolate brown, a Mallory, the inside label said, For Youthful Smartness. He fitted it on and geeked the brim flat like an old jazz musician would, the way he had once seen Joe Louis wear a porkpie as the greeter at the front door of Caesar's. He stepped out the door into the brilliant white sunlight.

  25

  AS Karch walked through the casino at the Cleo he felt eyes upon him and looked up under the brim of his hat to see Vincent Grimaldi staring back at him from the crow's nest. Grimaldi did not have to gesture for Karch to know he was angry and waiting. Karch looked away and made his way to the elevators, a little more speed in his step.

  When he was ushered into Grimaldi's office two minutes later, Karch was met by a large man he knew was Grimaldi's chief in-house thug. Karch couldn't recall his name but remembered it ended in a vowel. It was Rocco or Franco or something close.

  "He wants to see me," Karch said.

  "Yes, we've been reaching out to you all morning."

  Karch noted the use of the plural and the condescending smirk on the other man's face as he gestured toward the door that opened onto the walkway to the crow's nest.

  As Karch made his way around Grimaldi's desk he saw that it was spread with tools and equipment: an electric drill, a Polaroid camera, a large flashlight and a small tub of earthquake wax. He picked up the drill and saw that it had been wrapped in black rubber sewn together with fishing line.

  "We found all of this in the air vent in room - "

  "Two-thousand fifteen," Karch said. "I know. I told him it would be there."

  He put the drill down and returned the condescending smirk to the man. He then stepped through the door to the walkway. He closed the door behind him, his eyes holding the other man's through the glass.

  Grimaldi didn't turn to Karch as he came out. He stood with his hands gripping the railing and stared out at the sea of gamblers below. Karch had never been in the crow's nest before. He looked around and down upon the casino floor with a sense of awe and reverence. He glanced back and saw Grimaldi's thug standing at the glass door watching him. He turned and stepped right next to Grimaldi.

  "Vincent."

  "Whereya been, Jack? I've been calling."

  "Sorry, Vincent, I had my hands full."

  "What, changing your suit? Who you supposed to be, Bugsy Siegel or Art Pepper?"

  "I'm here, Vincent. What do you want?"

  Grimaldi looked at him now for the first time with an expression of warning.

  "You know, I wonder if I was right about putting you on lead on this. My ass is on the line and I have no idea what you're doing besides changing clothes and putting on hats. Maybe I should hand this off to Romero. I know he's good to go on it."

  Karch stayed cool. He had a pretty good idea that Grimaldi was only venting.

  "If that's what you want, Vincent. But I thought you wanted the money back."

  "I DO, goddammit!"

  A few gamblers at a craps table below glanced up at Grimaldi's outburst. They were playing at the table where Max Freeling had landed six years before.

  Karch decided to stop playing games with Grimaldi.

  "Look, Vincent, I've been working the problem, okay? I've made progress. I have the woman's name and I know where she is. I'd already be on my way if you hadn't been calling and paging me."

  Grimaldi turned to him, the excitement clearly showing on his face.

  "You've got a name?"

  "Yes." Karch nodded down toward the craps table below. "You remember the thing with Max Freeling, right? The high diver?"

  "Of course."

  "Well, remember the girl they picked up? His lookout?"

  "Yeah. She went away, got fifteen, I think."

  "Five to fifteen, Vincent. Must have been a good girl. Because she did the five and got out. It was her last night."

  "Bullshit. She was a lookout. You said yourself this morning that this was a pro, somebody who knew exactly what the fuck she was doing."

  "I know. And it's her. Believe me, it's her."

  "Tell me how you know this."

  Karch spent the next ten minutes detailing his tracing of Jersey Paltz and his questioning of the electronics dealer.

  "Motherfucker," Grimaldi said of Paltz. "I hope you took care of him."

  "Don't worry about him."

  Grimaldi's sharp, dark face cracked into a smile, revealing beautifully white teeth.

  "They don't call you Jack of Spades for nothing. The man with a shovel in the trunk."

  Karch let it go. He remembered something and tapped his jacket below the breast pocket.

  "I've got the eight K she paid him for the equipment. Minus my expenses. I'll leave it on the desk."

  "That's good, Jack. And guess what, I've got something for you. We've got a name, too."

  Karch looked at him.

  "Martin was the insider?"

  Grimaldi nodded.

  "He acted dumb but we eventually got it out of him. He gave us everything but the girl's name because he didn't know it. So with what you got we have the whole picture."

  "Which is what?"

  "The thing was set up by a guy in L.A. named Leo Renfro. He connected with Martin and then he procured the girl for the job. He's the middle man on this thing."

  "How'd he know Martin?"

  "He didn't. He was put in touch with Martin."

  "How?"

  "That's where it gets dicey. Turns out Martin kept an eye out for Chicago. When he was at the Nugget a few years back he was Joey Marks's ear. When Marks and his crew got taken down by the bureau, things scattered and Martin left the Nugget and started here with a new slate. Of course, I didn't know any of this history when I hired him. Anyway, like I said, he didn't know this guy Renfro. But when he sees Hidalgo raking in the cash at the baccarat table and then going up to his room every night with that handcuff case, he figured there was a nice score to be made. He tipped Chicago and they put him together with this Leo Renfro to set it up."

  Karch was barely listening. The mention of Chicago, of the so-called Outfit's involvement in the caper, was causing blood to pound in his ears. His hands tightened into fists.

  "Hey, Jack, you still with me?"

  Karch nodded.

  "I'm here."

  "Look, I know what happened with your father and all . . . I just wanted you to see all the cards, you know?"

  "Thank you, Vincent. You sure Martin was only working off what he saw the mark win? He didn't know abo
ut the two and a half?"

  Grimaldi stepped a little closer to him. There was a humorless smile on his face.

  "Let's just say that we questioned him closely and extensively on that point. And the answer is he didn't know. Chicago didn't know. It was just a casino score. It was like you said, Jack. I made a mistake giving the guy a draw. He turned it into more money and it drew sharks. Martin and his Chicago people. Everybody involved in this thing works for Chicago."

  Karch just nodded and kept his lips tightly together.

  "So if the girl's from L.A. now and Renfro's from L.A., then that's where the money is. You have to get over there and get it before they turn it over to Chicago."