For a while, Kane’s tale went exactly as you’d expect for a gambling addict: He lost money, year after year, throwing away all the savings he’d gained as a professional musician. One losing streak in 2006 earned him enough loyalty points to get his own personal video poker machine, the same kind that casinos use.
The casino saw no threat in their compulsive customer getting his own private machine. The machine wouldn’t scratch his gambling itch, since it paid out no money. And the machine gave him no chance of honing his skills because there is no way to beat the house long-term at video poker—the house advantage is built into the programming.
But they were wrong about that last part. After countless hours of private experimenting, Kane discovered a bug that gave the gambler a huge edge. It was possible to bet with low stakes, wait for a big win, then go through a series of menus and raise your stake on that bet retroactively.
One reason no one had noticed this before was the bug only kicked in during a special game mode that doubles the players’ risk and reward. Casinos lock this mode off by default—not because it favors the player (it doesn’t) but because it’s so intimidating that it scares too many players away from playing at all. Kane and a partner, Andre Nestor, now hit Vegas, asked one casino after another to enable the mode, then rode the bug to hundreds of thousands in winnings.
Finally, a casino noticed someone was winning way too much money and led Kane away in handcuffs. Many stories you hear of casino “cheaters” (card counters, etc.) involve players doing nothing illegal, so the casino has no recourse other than expelling them, but the casino believed Kane had to have hacked the machine, so the federal government booked him under the 1986 Computer Fraud and Abuse Act.
Kane had not hacked the machine. In fact, the feds’ case against him or Nestor depended entirely on one of them testifying against the other. We don’t know exactly what they wanted either of them to say, and we’re not going to rule out “blatant lies, scripted by the prosecution.” Kane and Nestor both refused to cooperate, and this gamble paid off. In time, the feds dropped all charges.
Victory! Except, the district attorney did seize all their winnings and returned the haul to the casino. No trial, no conviction—the office just took the money, and the guys had no recourse. Hey, this might sound paranoid, but we’re starting to suspect this Vegas place is rigged.
Follow Ryan Menezes on Twitter for more stuff no one should see.
Top image: Matthew Yohe, Alexander Schaelss