Free Day of Reckoning by Jack Higgins

'This is one of the most pres tigious gambling clubs in London. Scandal is the last thing we want. You expect me to expel a brigadier general and his friends? No, we wait and see what they're up to.'
The dice table was a popular one, every inch taken up by the crowd standing around. Ferguson said to Hannah, 'Would you like to have a go, Superintendent?'
'No, sir. I don't know craps. It's not one of my vices.'
'Well, it's one of mine,' Blake said. 'Let's do it.'
He had to wait ten minutes for his chance, then took the offered dice and started. Strangely enough, he did quite well for the first three throws, actually won money. Then he palmed the dice and tossed two of Roper's.
'Snake eyes.'
There was a groan from the crowd.
The dealer passed the dice to Dillon, who palmed them for the real article, and made two successful throws. Then, just when he had everything riding on the toss – 'snake eyes!' 'Hey,' he said ruefully, 'bad luck I understand, but this is diabolical.'
Ferguson moved in. 'Let me try, old boy. Mind you, these dice do seem to have lost their edge.' He turned to the croupier. 'Let me have a new pair.'
The croupier complied. Ferguson rolled and immediately came up with snake eyes. He turned to a military-looking man with a stiff moustache next to him. 'How strange.' He laughed. 'We all keep getting the same thing.'
'Yes,' the military-looking man said slowly. The croupier's rake reached out, but the military-looking man said, 'Not so fast,' and grabbed the dice.
The croupier said, 'I hope monsieur isn't suggesting there could be something wrong?'
'Let's see.'
The man rolled the dice and threw them the length of the table: again, snake eyes. The croupier's rake reached out and the military gentleman beat him to it.
'Oh, no, you don't. That's snake eyes too many times. These dice are loaded.' There was a sudden murmur from the crowd and he turned to an ageing gentleman. 'See for yourself. Pair of ones guaranteed.'
The man threw and the result was clear. The outrage in the
crowd was plain to see, and Mori hurried down the steps. 'Ladies and gentlemen, please. A misunderstanding.' Are you the manager?' Ferguson demanded.
'Yes,' Mori replied.
'Then oblige us by throwing those dice.'
Mori hesitated. People in the crowd shouted, 'Get on with it.'
Mori threw. The dice rolled. Snake eyes.
The crowd roared in anger. The military-looking man said, 'That settles it. Loaded dice, and I've lost a bundle here in the last few weeks. We need the police.'
'Ladies and gentlemen, please,' Mori called.
Fox, Falcone and Russo stayed well to the rear.
Hannah Bernstein moved forward and said to Mori, 'The dice, sir, I'll have them.'
'And who the devil are you?' He was so upset he asked her in Italian.
Hannah replied with fluency in the same language. 'Detec tive Superintendent Bernstein, Special Branch.' She looked at the dice she picked up. 'I notice that, in accordance with the Gaming Act, these carry the club's registered mark. Do you agree?'
'Well, yes,' Mori said lamely, then added, 'Someone must have substituted false ones.'
The military-looking man said, 'Don't be stupid. What on earth would be the point of a player substituting for the real dice a pair that would make him lose?'
There was a roar from the crowd, Mori sagged across the table, and Hannah said, 'In accordance with the statu tory provisions of the Gaming Act, sir, I must issue an order closing you down until such time as Westminster Magistrate's Court can consider the matter. I believe you also own twelve betting shops in the City of London. Is that so?'
'Yes,' Mori told her.
'I'm afraid they must close, also. Any infringement of this order means a fine of one hundred thousand pounds with further penalties thereafter.'
'Of course.' Mori raised his voice shakily. 'Ladies and gentlemen, I'm afraid we must close by order of the police. Please leave now. Don't forget your things.'
The crowd faded, and at the rear were Ferguson, Bernstein,