Cassie switched screens to the closet camera and hit the record button. This was it. All her work had been to put her in this position.

On the screen the light came on in the closet and Hernandez's big left arm followed by part of the upper portion of his body dropped into the picture. He reached down to the combination and started tapping the numbers. But before he was done his right arm swung through the picture and he put his hand on the top of the safe to support himself.

SHIT NO! Cassie wanted to yell. But instead she brought a clenched fist up to her mouth.

Hernandez opened the safe's door, dropped to one knee and reached inside. He brought out a two-inch stack of currency and placed it on top of the safe, then put down the equally thick stack he had just removed from his pocket. He reached into the side pockets of his jacket and took out two more wads of cash. He combined all of the currency into one thick stack he could barely hold in one hand. He hefted it. Cassie could not see his face because of the angle of the camera but she knew he was smiling.

Hernandez put the cash into the safe and closed it, then got up and closed the closet door, extinguishing the overhead light.

As Cassie watched she wondered about the briefcase. It appeared that it was too large to fit into the safe. But why hadn't Hernandez taken the cash that must be in it and placed it in the safe?

She switched to the bedroom camera but there was no sign of Hernandez. The briefcase was lying flat on the bed. Her question about the case and Hernandez's decision not to put its contents into the safe did not hold her attention long. There was a more important question she had to answer. She switched the receiver/recorder to the playback program and began watching the recording of the closet camera. She grabbed the hotel pad and pencil and hit the slow-motion button just as Hernandez's hand dipped into the picture.

"Come on, baby."

The numbers could clearly be seen on the screen. Hernandez's finger hit 4-3-5 but then his right arm, reaching for support on the safe, swung through the frame and obscured the final two numbers. Cassie reversed the recording and replayed it with the same result. She was short the final two numbers of the combination.

"Son of a bitch!"

She got up from the table and paced across the room to the curtains. She pulled them open and looked out, the view going across the Strip to the dark outlines of the mountains far from the city of neon. She looked up and saw the moon.

She knew she couldn't go in with just three numbers and hopes of trying various combinations of the final two to open the safe. The Halsey safes had built-in tampering devices. If three successive erroneous combinations were entered on the keypad, the locking mechanism would freeze. It would then take a visit from security and an electronic device called a D-Lock to open the safe. The D-Lock was usually kept under lock in the hotel manager's safe.

There was only one alternative, Cassie decided. A fire drill.

CASSIE watched the screen and waited. The alarm was blaring in the hallway and she could smell the smoke. But Hernandez showed no sign of moving from his room. He was fully clothed and lying propped on a pile of pillows on the bed. He was watching the television but the angle of the smoke detector camera prevented Cassie from seeing what was on the screen.

She dialed his room and watched as Hernandez lazily reached for the extension on the bedside table.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Hernandez, this is hotel security. We have an alarm and a report of smoke on your floor. We are going to need you to evacuate immediately."

"A fire? I heard the alarm."

He sat up abruptly.

"We're not sure yet, sir. We have people coming up. But other guests are reporting smoke on the twentieth floor. Please, sir, gather your valuables and evacuate down the emergency stairs until we can evaluate what is happening."

"Okay, bye."

As Hernandez jumped up from the bed Cassie was surprised at the big man's agility and speed. As he was putting his shoes on, Cassie switched screens to the closet camera and hit the record button. She waited.

In a few moments the door opened and this time Hernandez knelt in front of the safe instead of leaning over it. He reached to the combination pad and hit the buttons, in full sight of the camera. Cassie could tell the last number was 2 and wrote it on the hotel pad.

As Hernandez quickly pulled the money from the safe and started stuffing his pockets, Cassie blew out her breath excitedly and hit the playback program on the receiver/recorder. She once more played the opening of the safe in slow motion.

This time she got it. She wrote the last missing number down on the pad.

4-3-5-1-2

She took no time to celebrate. She switched back to the live feed from the bedroom cam. Hernandez was standing at the desk, locking the briefcase onto his wrist. Cassie picked up the phone and called his room. Hernandez grabbed the phone quickly.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Hernandez, this is security. We have isolated the problem and there is no risk. You do not have to evacuate your room."

"What was it?"

"We think someone left a cigarette on a room service cart near a smoke detector. It set off the alarm."

"Well, can you turn it off now?"

"We're working on it, sir. Sorry for the incon – "

"Did Vincent tell you to call my room?"

Cassie was momentarily taken aback.

"Excuse me?"

"Vincent Grimaldi."

"Uh, no sir. We're just following standard practice. Good night, sir."

She hung up. It was the second time in the past half hour that the name Vincent Grimaldi had been mentioned. Cassie was sure she had heard it before. As she was thinking about it, the alarm from out in the hallway was finally turned off.

She went to the suite's door and listened at the jamb. She heard men talking from far down the hall. She could not make out the words but she assumed they had found the cigarette she had left burning on a room service cart under a smoke detector.

Now all she needed was for Hernandez to go to sleep.

She switched the receiver back to the bedroom cam and saw Hernandez had stripped to boxer shorts and a T-shirt. He was back on the bed watching television. All the lights were off except for the glow from the television. Cassie checked her watch; it was almost midnight. She thought about the name Hernandez and the security escort had used. Vincent Grimaldi. It had a resonance but she couldn't place it.

Cassie picked up the phone, dialed the hotel operator and asked to be connected to Vincent Grimaldi. A moment later the connection had been made and the call was picked up after one ring.

"Security," a man's voice said. "Mr. Grimaldi's office."

"Oh," Cassie said. "I think I have the wrong number. I wanted to see about getting a line of credit in the casino. Does Mr. Grimaldi handle that?"

The man at the other end of the line chuckled.

"Well, you could say he's in charge of all of that but he doesn't handle applications. He runs the casino, ma'am. He's the director of all casino operations. So what you need to do is just go down to the casino and apply for credit at the big cashier's station next to the Sphinx. They'll take care of you."

"Okay, I'll do that. Thanks."

Cassie hung up as she now remembered the name Vincent Grimaldi and who he was. Six years earlier, his name had been in all of the papers in the days following Max's last caper. He had been part of the cover-up.

She remembered that at the time Grimaldi was identified as the chief of casino security at the Cleo. In the six years since, he had moved up the ladder to director. Maybe it was what had happened with Max that had sent him on his way.