Deadman’s Poker

“Let me think about it.”

“Hey,” Vi

The sound of a man screaming snapped their heads. Gerry stared across the warehouse at one of the goons who’d been punishing Nunzie. He was clutching his hand and dancing around in agony. Nunzie, his face swollen and distorted, was laughing at him. Frank was laughing as well. Three down, one to go, Gerry thought.

“We need to keep stalling these guys,” Gerry said.

“That’s your plan?” Vi

“Yeah. My guess is, my old man has the cavalry looking for us. If we keep stalling and don’t tell them what they want to know, they won’t kill us right away.”

Vi

“If we get out of this alive, you’ve got to explain how it works between you and your old man.”

“How what works?”

“How you manage to get along, but not always like each other.”

That was a good question, and one that Gerry wasn’t sure he knew the answer to. He and his old man had always been civil to each other. Over the years, that civility had turned into tolerance, and now it was bordering on something that felt like what a father and son were supposed to feel toward each other. But it sure hadn’t started out that way.

The guy who’d broken his hand came over to where Gerry and Vi

“You assholes going to tell us which one of you killed Russ?” he asked.

“You want to know who killed Russ?” Vi

“Yeah,” he said.

“Russ died of a broken heart,” Vi

There was only so much nonsense a person could take, and Gerry thought the mutt was going to shoot Vi

“They’re bringing over the flamethrower,” he said.

46

At exactly two o’clock in the afternoon, Gloria Curtis appeared in the lobby of Celebrity’s hotel with her cameraman. She wore a white blouse and a black suit with a diamond broach on the lapel that made her look like a million bucks. Valentine stood near the lobby phone booth, watching. She saw him as she passed, and winked.

Gloria walked over to the doors leading to the World Poker Showdown, and stood a few yards away from the pair of stern-faced security guards blocking the entrance. Zack’s camera had a light, and it basked Gloria in its artificial glow. Her presence immediately drew a crowd of curious passersby coming out of the casino.

“Good afternoon. This is Gloria Curtis reporting from the World Poker Showdown in Las Vegas. Today is day four of the tournament, and folks, if you don’t mind my saying so, we’ve got a couple of bombshells for you.”

Valentine saw three men in tailored suits standing on the far side of the lobby. The man in the middle appeared to be in charge, and had dyed black hair, padded shoulders, and teeth so artificially white they appeared to glow. Valentine guessed this was Karl Jasper, president of the WPS. He had called Jasper’s room ten minutes ago, and left an anonymous message to be in the lobby at two if Jasper knew what was good for him.

“But first, a rundown on today’s tournament,” Gloria said, her eyes focused on the camera. “Skip DeMarco, the blind poker phenom from New Jersey, is still in first place, and has accumulated four million dollars in chips. In second place with two million dollars is last year’s wi

“But the real story is not the action taking place behind these doors. The realstory comes from Rufus Steele, the legendary poker player who lost in the first round, and claims he was cheated. Rufus has told me that he’s learned from the Metro Las Vegas Police Department that a dealer who was working the tournament is a known cheater, and was prosecuted in New Jersey for cold-decking a poker game. For those of our viewers who don’t know what cold-decking a poker game means, we’re going to show you a clip of this cheating move in action.”

Gloria went silent and lowered her mike. Mabel had e-mailed Gloria a surveillance tape of a poker dealer cold-decking a game, which Zack would later edit into the segment. After ten seconds had passed, Gloria brought the mike up to her face.

“Rufus Steele has also told me that the dealers being used in this tournament are not from this casino, and in fact have not been cleared by the Las Vegas sheriff’s department to deal these games. That’s the law here in Las Vegas, and the folks ru

Valentine was watching Jasper, and saw the president of the WPS ball his hands into fists while his face turned the color of a fire truck. Jasper was standing next to a large bird cage, and seemed oblivious to the yellow-headed parrot flapping its wings and screeching at him.

“Now, let’s talk to Rufus Steele, the man who broke this story,” Gloria said. “Here he comes right now.”

Zack turned and pointed his camera at the elevator banks. Rufus had stepped out of a car a few moments before, and was waiting to make his entrance. He wore a fluffy white hotel bathrobe, white socks and sneakers, and his Stetson. As he crossed the lobby, he began punching the air like a prizefighter. Many in the crowd applauded, and Rufus waved to them good-naturedly, then sidled up beside Gloria.

“Rufus, it’s good to see you again,” Gloria said.

“The pleasure’s mine, Miss Curtis,” he said.

“During the first day of the tournament, you claimed you’d been cheated by a player. Now, you’re claiming the whole tournament is cheating.”

“That’s right.”

“Would you please explain for the folks at home.”

“This tournament stinks like a three-day-old fish left out in the sun,” Rufus said, a smile plastered across his leathery face. “The dealers haven’t been checked out. One dealer actually got arrested for switching decks in Atlantic City a few years ago. That’s like having a bank robber working as a teller. The people ru

Valentine continued to stare at Karl Jasper. If there was ever a good time for Jasper to step forward and defend his tournament, this was it. Only Jasper wasn’t having any part of the discussion and looked genuinely scared.

“Well, Rufus, I suppose our viewers would like you to explain the unique getup you have on,” Gloria said. “Are you becoming a boxer?”

“Just getting ready for my race tonight,” Rufus said.

“Your race?”

“Yes. As you know, I’m going to play Skip DeMarco in a heads-up poker game for one million dollars. In order to raise the cash, I’ve agreed to run a footrace against a racehorse, wi

“A real racehorse?” Gloria said, her eyes widening.

Rufus put on his serious face, and nodded. “Yes, ma’am. My sources have told me that I’ll be up against a champion, no less. The horse I’ll be ru

“And the horse is a champion?”

“I believe it ran in the Kentucky Derby a few years ago, and is still competitive.”

“How much are you betting on yourself to win?”