Free Blizzard Ball by Dennis Kelly

case he got stupid with me, and of course he did. Where you guys headed?”
    “Anywhere we want.” Rafie raised his beer and laughed. “We won the lottery.”
    “Shut up,” Eduardo snapped.
    “Congratulations, I sure could use some luck.”
    “What kinda trouble you got?” Eduardo asked.
     

History
     
    Kirchner was scratching around for a lead in the convenience store operator’s death. The Pakistani had originally drawn the attention of the feds because of his curious financial transactions at a local bank. Certainly Kirchner would start by paying the bank a visit. But beginnings were a slippery slope for a history major, and he was curious about lotteries themselves.
    Kirchner had found accounts to support the notion that the lottery, in various forms, has been around since the dawn of mankind. The random outcome was seen as divine will intervening on human meddling. Formal documentation picked up somewhere around two thousand years ago. It has been claimed that the Great Wall of China was built with lottery funds.
    The lottery caught on with the Renaissance crowd, too. Queen Elizabeth I established one of the first English lotteries, offering tickets for a chance to win royal pieces of gold. It quickly spread throughout Europe and was carried onto American shores with the first settlers. It became a favorite colonial pastime, especially among the Founding Fathers.
    Kirchner found it telling that even back in the early days, the lottery was a conflict-generating concept. Protestant reformists, who opposed gambling on moral grounds, embraced the lottery to raise funds for schools and churches. The same government that outlawed gambling promoted the lottery. Old Ben Franklin financed cannons for the Revolutionary War using lottery money. George Washington operated a Virginia lottery to finance construction of roads to the West. Even Thomas Jefferson couldn’t resist raising a quick buck by means of a chance event.
    Lotteries were pretty commonplace, doing mostly good work, funding public projects and universities right into the late 1800s. But over time, the scheme fell prey to scoundrels whose only mission was personal enrichment. One of the most notorious operations was the Louisiana State Lottery, also known as the Golden Octopus for its reputation of having a hand in nearly everyone’s pocket. President Harrison did not take kindly to the rogue nature of the lottery and enacted legislation that put a ban on it in 1900. This led to all manner of underground numbers rackets. The prohibition didn’t hold, with the government getting back in the lottery business in the 1960s. Kirchner thought about that. They should have kept the lid on it.
    Kirchner found Jerome “Fitz” Fitzgerald sucking down a cigarette on a sidewalk in front of the Minnesota National Bank, East Side Branch. He was standing with a gaggle of other nicotine-addicted bank employees. Kirchner waited patiently while Fitz finished the butt and escorted him inside the bank. Fitz, an assistant branch vice president, was eager to help and extended a hand shake which felt like a limp, dead fish.
    “When someone from this neighborhood walks in and cashes a $9,995 check, I know something’s up.” Fitz rearranged the already neat stack of papers on his desk. A piston-like jaw working a piece of Blackjack stretched his mouth from ear to ear, revealing tiny teeth set in gums the color of licorice. “I assume you want to see the surveillance tapes?” Fitz asked, nodding his head up and down to prod a confirmation from Kirchner. Fitz led Kirchner to the second-floor security room. The time-dated tapes, from a camera positioned behind the teller, showed Jamal from the Cash and Dash presenting a check and handing the teller a box. The teller cashed the check, stuffed the money in the box, and handed it back: always the same routine. “What’s with the box?” Kirchner asked Fitz.
    “Don’t know. I’ll introduce you to Lasiandra. She’s the teller