In the heart of Encore Boston Harbor, where fortunes rise and fall to the tune of a shuffling deck, an audacious heist unfurled that would leave the glittering establishment reeling. Under the lavish glow of chandeliers, a plot was executed, not from the script of a high-stakes thriller, but by the hands of one Gary Hunt, a Massachusetts man of 35 years, whose sleight of hand would land him not in a sea of riches, but in the clasp of the law.
The play unfolded on an otherwise typical evening, as the clock’s hands inched toward 6 p.m. Gary Hunt, ensconced in the ambiance of clinking chips and cards fluttering on felt, appeared to be no more than a patron adrift in the sea of gaming tables. Yet, Hunt had no appetite for a gambler’s chance; his interest lay fixed upon the dealer’s tray, laden with the orange glow of $1,000 chips.
With the deftness of a seasoned performer, Hunt conjured a most cunning of deceptions. His voice boomed across the casino floor, heralding a fictitious jackpot winner to snare the attention of those around. And as all eyes sought this phantom victor, Hunt seized his moment, pilfering an armful of the prized chips as swiftly as a shadow under moonlight. His prize: $13,000 in casino currency.
But triumph turned to flight as Hunt, clutching his ill-gotten gains, dashed toward an emergency exit, the urgency of his escape reverberating through the corridors of the palatial den of chance.
The pursuit was brief, the conclusion foregone. Law enforcers, as relentless as hounds on the scent, tracked down Hunt in a parking lot not far from the scene of his larcenous caper. Among him, the purloined tokens of fortune, his plan unraveled like a poorly shuffled deck.
Yet in the aftermath, a single, errant chip lay outside the casino’s embrace, a silent witness to his fleeting ambition. Hunt’s cunning had gone further; he had secreted two of the chips within the confines of a humble sneaker, only to discard them as the noose of justice drew tight, a detail CBS News would recount with keen interest.
His day in court came swiftly at Malden District Court, where the mandate was resolute: Encore Boston Harbor was a realm he was to tread upon no more, with a judicial echo to resound on September 16th.
But beneath the tale of theft and pursuit lies the crux of a human struggle, articulated with poignant clarity by former Woonsocket Mayor Lisa Baldelli-Hunt, mother to the accused. In a statement steeped in maternal sorrow, she spoke of Gary’s battle with the demons of addiction and mental health. A graduate of repute, his plight stood in stark contrast to his siblings’ successes, a testament to the capricious nature of such trials.
“We are deeply saddened by the recent events involving our eldest son, Gary, which occurred within the context of his longtime mental health and addiction struggles,” the former mayor lamented, her words casting the narrative not in black and white, but in the grayscale complexities of the human condition.
Despite the family’s enduring support and love, the specter of Gary’s challenges loomed larger. “No family is exempt from these challenges,” she expressed, a sentiment echoing the universal struggle countless others silently wage.
Baldelli-Hunt, her own crosses to bear, had relinquished her mayoral mantle the year prior, citing health and family as the impetus for her departure. The entanglement of public service and personal adversity had been underscored by a recent report, delving into land deals tied to Baldelli-Hunt, which had found its way into law enforcement scrutiny, as noted by the regional news outlet GoLocalProv.com.
In the end, Encore Boston Harbor’s luster was dimmed not by the loss of chips, but by the revelation of human frailty within its walls—a story of one man’s gamble against odds far steeper than any wagered at its tables.
