“Any gambling experience before?” Mason asked.
“Lots of it. Golding ran a place in San Francisco, and then was floorman at a big casino in Mexico. Then he came back here, apparently broke, but always intending to open up a gambling place as soon as he got the funds.”
“How about the girl?”
“Eva Tannis was a come-on girl in the San Francisco place where Golding worked. You know, she gives the boys lucky hunches and a few drinks. Makes them feel like gay young blades. Pulls a little sex stuff and imbues the boys with the idea that faint heart never won fair lady. Then they feel their oats, and start plunging on the gambling table.”
“And it’s all fixed beforehand?” Mason asked, turning the comer to the right and preparing to edge into a parking place.
“No, that end of it’s on the up-and-up. All the gambling house wants is to get the play.”
“What if the boys win?” Mason asked.
“Then she’s already in strong with them. She keeps them playing until the house wins it back. In case the sucker quits while he’s still winner, she goes out with him, keeps in touch with him, makes a date for a couple of nights later, and steers him back to the joint. By that time, he’s cold and imbued with the idea that he has to buck the game in order to get anywhere. Then it’s all over.”
Mason, looking the neighborhood over, said, “Doesn’t look like much of a soup-and-fish trade, Paul.”
“It isn’t,” the detective told him. “It’s a joint. They’re trying to make a stake for a bigger place.”