kapigad: переводы

→"What do you do when you catch. . . it?"

→"I guess I do," said Victor Phule, shaking his head.

→"You see what we have to deal with?"

→"Right, and so are these," said Bascomb, toggling the remote to show a series of other faces: a flashily dressed young male, a weary-looking little fellow who might have been a file clerk, a statuesque black woman. . . "And the damnedest part is, the hustler isn't even human," he added.

→Different day, different disguise."

→"I've got it!" said Phule. "Right where he turns, and his hand goes in his pocket----I don't know what he's doing, but that's got to be when he does it." Bascomb laughed. "Nab, he's just putting his hand in his pocket, maybe to check his hotel key. As far as we can tell, he wasn't doing anything this time." Victor Phule glowered. "So what's the point, then?" Bascomb toggled the remote, and the display changed to show the businessman and the Asian woman side by side. "The point is, this is the same hustler you saw before.

→"Pretty good," said Bascomb, grudgingly. "Maybe we could get you a job as a spotter. But here's the real catch she's not just putting in counterfeit tokens, they're specially improved. Every one of them has a chip designed to increase her odds of winning one of the big jackpots. We might not have spotted it except she got caught five years ago doing the same thing at the Horny'toad Casino. She changed her disguise, but we still got her once the computer matched up her appearance with her MO. And a good thing-if we'd let her play a couple of hours, she was likely to walk out with ten or twenty thousand. Now look at this one." The grandmotherly type disappeared and was replaced by a middle-aged businessman in ostentiously casual garb at the craps table. At the end of a play, the man scooped a pile of chips off the table and walked casually toward the cashier's booth. "Do you see the hustle?" asked Bascomb.