The evidence was mounting that Kane had found something unthinkable: the kind of thing gamblers dream of, casinos dread, and Nevada regulators have an entire auditing regime to prevent. Even his play was refined: the way he rested his long fingers on the buttons and swept them in a graceful legato, smoothly selecting good cards, discarding bad ones, accepting jackpot after jackpot with the vaguely put-upon air of a creditor finally collecting an overdue debt. Tall, with a high brow and an aquiline nose, the 50-year-old Kane had the patrician bearing of a man better suited to playing a Mozart piano concerto than listening to the chirping of a slot machine. A $4,150 jackpot rolled in a few minutes after that.Īll the while, the casino’s director of surveillance, Charles Williams, was peering down at Kane through a camera hidden in a ceiling dome. Kane waited while the slot attendant verified the win and presented the IRS paperworka procedure required for any win of $1,200 or greaterthen, 11 minutes later, ding ding ding!, a $2,800 win. Six minutes later the purple light on the top of the machine flashed, signaling a $4,300 jackpot. On July 3, 2009, he walked alone into the high-limit room at the Silverton Casino in Las Vegas and sat down at a video poker machine called the Game King.
John Kane was on a hell of a winning streak.
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