The Doctor peered down at the cards on the table. “Normally, whenever a player’s cards total twenty-one, the payout is three to two, of course.” As he spoke, the man at the table was showered with a pile of chips. “This casino also has a pair of special house rules. When the player makes twenty-one by drawing three sevens, you get triple your money back. And, best of all, when the ace and ten are both spades, the payout is eleven to one. Now technically, this pushes the odds right into the player’s favor; play your cards right—it’s not a house edge, but a
Balot looked at the table, and indeed there were two spades: the ace and the one-eyed jack—so called because the jack of spades faced sideways on the card.
“Blackjack!” the Doctor called out as if it had been his own hand.
That was also the name of the game—Balot’s final challenge.
Also known as twenty-one—the game where you started with two cards and aimed for a total of twenty-one points, competing against the dealer to see who had the higher hand, unless the total was above twenty-one, in which case you bust out of the game. All picture cards were worth ten points, and the ace could be counted as either a one or an eleven, the player’s choice. Simple to learn, fiendishly difficult to master.
There were a number of good reasons why the Doctor had chosen this as their final game.
First of all, this was a game where it was possible to win the million-dollar chips. It had to be a game that was played in the VIP room.
Secondly, with games such as poker and baccarat, you were mainly betting against the other players, not the house; the casino just took its cut, and it was hard to win money from it directly. Difficult, therefore, to get your hands on the coveted million-dollar chips that served as an ostentatious advertisement for the casino. A professional gambler might have found these games amenable to his purposes of building up a steady profit, but Balot was here for a different reason. With blackjack you played directly against the house, the other players being essentially irrelevant. It was one-on-one, player versus casino.
Another key point was that the house edge was unusually low in blackjack. House edge—the statistical edge that the casino enjoyed over time—that small but significant gap between the true odds of a winning hand occurring and the actual payout. In the long run, the house would always win.
With roulette, for example, the actual true odds of a particular number coming up was thirty-eight to one. The payout was thirty-five to one, including the original stake. A player might win an individual game, but over time the odds would win out: the casino’s edge was 5.2 percent. For every thousand dollars that was bet, the house would rake in fifty-two dollars.
It was a little different with blackjack. If you just played normally, guessing and going with the flow, the house edge would certainly be over 5 percent, as in roulette.
But with a proper strategy, it was possible to reduce the house edge to less than 0.5 percent—a unique feature that only blackjack enjoyed. Blackjack wasn’t called a tactician’s game for nothing.
“And best of all, there’s no house minimum and no maximum. A true no-limit game,” said the Doctor, walking casually toward his target table. “Blackjack has always been the best chance a player has to get his hands on the million-dollar chips. In particular, whenever there’s a big game on, the chips are used as calling cards, and they flow backward and forward from player to house like balls in a tennis rally. The house always wins in the end, of course. That’s how good the dealers are here—they let nothing slip.”
The Doctor related this as if he had witnessed it all firsthand. That was how thorough his preparation had been. The intricacies of calculating the house edge were beyond Balot, but she did feel that she had a decent grasp of fundamental strategy. As long as Oeufcoque was in her hand, she was confident that she could play her part.
The only other thing she had to watch out for was not to get too sucked into her surroundings—she had to remain detached from all the glitz and glamor. It all rested on whether she could keep a cool head and play her hand as they had planned.
Suddenly, the Doctor stooped down to look into Balot’s face. “So, what’s the culmination of all our strategy and tactics? What is our best move?” It was almost as if he were asking for a password from a soldier returning from battle.
Balot looked straight back into the Doctor’s blue eyes.
The Doctor smiled when she answered without hesitation.
