Both of them stood pat, blocking my way, so I stopped a few feet in front of them.
"Hello, counselor," said one. "Sorry, the roulette room's closed."
I knew the man slightly. "Let me in, Jim," I said. "I want to see Thursby."
The men exchanged glances. Obviously, the D.A. had given them orders.
"Can't do it, counselor," said Jim. "We're not to let anyone in."
"Tell Thursby I'm out here and that I want to see him."
He shrugged, opened the door, stuck his head inside, and called to District Attorney Thursby to tell him that I was outside. I could hear Thursby's muffled "Damn!" from within. But when he showed up at the door, his face was all smiles.
"What's the trouble?" he asked pleasantly.
I smiled back, giving him my best. "No trouble at all, Thursby. I just wanted to watch the experiment."
"Experiment?" He looked honestly surprised, which was a fine piece of acting. "We're just checking to see if the table's wired, that's all. If it is, your client may be in the clear; maybe we can hang it on the croupier."