‘Okay, thanks. I owe you both. Thanks for keeping me out of trouble.’
Grover smiled. ‘We’ve been in three games together, kid. We’ve been watching you. You’re not some punk kid acting like some young smart-ass. You play it straight down the line. We respect that.’
Fred grinned. ‘Besides, Madam Rose runs the best whorehouse in town.’
‘But why would you agree to help me? You just said you get a free run at Madam Rose?’
Grover looked at Fred. ‘Well, now you ask, we got a favour in return. Tell him, Fred.’
Fred chuckled. ‘There’s this girl, she doesn’t do free. I’ve had me eyes on her for three years, like I said. Great tits, great everything, but she won’t be in it and Reggie can’t make her.’ He shrugged his huge shoulders. ‘So we made a deal, I get her and Madam Rose gets her wish.’
I knew at once he was talking about Juicy Fruit.
‘Wicked world, Jack,’ Grover said as a throwaway line. ‘Okay, time we went back in?’
Reggie Blunt and the other three were seated, waiting, replenished whisky tumblers on the table in front of them. ‘Where you bin?’ Jabber yelled as we entered. He was clearly somewhat the worse for wear or otherwise was putting on a damn good act.
‘Takin’ a real long piss,’ Grover answered, settling down in the chair beside the whisky table then reaching over and pouring himself a stiff drink.
Reggie didn’t look at all happy. He was shuffling the cards and looking down, ignoring our entrance.
Jabber then said, ‘Hey, man, what say we make it a no-limit game? Give us dudes a chance to get our money back, eh?’
Cigarillo simply gazed into his whisky glass and Mr Manicure stared venomously at me. Expecting this, I simply shrugged my shoulders and turned to Grover beside me, who nodded. ‘Okay,’ I said quietly, taking my seat.
‘Attaboy!’ Jabber exclaimed. Cigarillo looked up at me quickly, making sure Jabber hadn’t overplayed his hand. But then, almost instantly, his eyes returned to his whisky glass. I watched as their cigarette smoke rose towards the high window. Cigarillo had a fresh unlit cigarillo in the left-hand corner of his mouth. Funny that. The last one had been stuck in the right-hand corner. No point in reading anything into it, though, this guy was ‘Mr Cool’ and the fix was in anyhow.
Reggie turned and plucked a large red silk bandana from the top pocket of his jacket which was hanging from the back of his chair. Dapper Reggie always sported one of these spotted bandanas spilling from his top pocket. ‘Touch of Oscar Wilde’, he called it. It went with his ‘whisky and a splash’ affectation. Now he used it to dab his lips, a curious use to say the least, except that the large square of silk fell to the table and just happened to cover the deck he’d placed there prior to reaching for it. Quite how he made this one-handed swap, I can’t say. Grover said he wasn’t a mechanic, a dishonest dealer, but it was nevertheless well done, so that when he turned to stuff the bandana carelessly back into his top pocket, a deck of cards, presumably the doctored pack, rested on the table in front of him slightly to the left of where the original one had been placed. If I hadn’t been alerted I’d have had no cause to notice. ‘Right then, gentlemen, let’s play,’ he said in a serious voice with none of his customary bluff manner.
I turned my first five cards. Holy smoke! I had a straight flush, eight, nine, ten, jack, queen of spades. Virtually unbeatable! I’d never seen one before. Normally I would have happily bet all my night’s winnings on it. The only thing that could top a straight flush is a higher routine, with a king or an ace instead of the queen I now held. The probability of someone holding such a hand was unthinkable, in fact, you could say, impossible. Even Jacoby would have turned in his grave in astonishment.
Cigarillo was the first to bet and pushed ten dollars into the centre, a mere gesture to get things rolling as if everything was normal. The silence was palpable as they waited for me to react, go to town, or so I imagined. The table was suddenly very quiet. ‘I fold,’ I said, throwing in the best hand I’d probably ever have in my entire life.
There was a collective gasp, Cigarillo’s brown cigarillo bounced several times but remained in his mouth. Reggie Blunt cleared his throat . . . aahrrh, aahrrh! Not like clearing a blockage but more like I imagined a pig or a sheep might gurgle when its throat was cut. Jabber Negas’s mouth fell open – he may have been a pro, but he was also drunk. Mr Manicure turned his snakelike eyes from me and fixed them on Reggie.
Grover sighed and threw in his hand. ‘Nothing there for me, either.’ He brought his great engine driver’s fist to his mouth and yawned. ‘Reggie, settle me up, it’s late. Fred and me, we’ve got a long haul in the mornin’.’
‘Me too, time to go. Been a long day.’
Reggie was sweating. ‘Jesus, no, you guys can’t quit now!’ The urbane Reggie Blunt was gone and a short, fat, weepy-eyed, whisky-nosed very frightened brothel keeper had taken his place.
Fred rose from where he’d been sitting next to the whisky table and took a step forward. God, he was big! ‘Best time to quit, Reggie,’ he growled, barely raising his voice. Mr Manicure made as if to move and Cigarillo tapped the table with his forefinger and the great hulk remained in his chair.
Reggie Blunt started counting out chips, his hands shaking like a morning-after drunk. Then he counted out the money. Grover got back eight hundred dollars and my pile came to two thousand six hundred dollars, less the two hundred dollars I’d brought to the game. I’d netted two thousand four hundred, enough to buy two houses in Cabbagetown or half-a-dozen new noses for my mom.
‘We’ll see you out, kid,’ Grover said. ‘Walk you back home. That’s a lot of money to carry without a little muscle on either side of you.’ It was said quietly, but well within the hearing of the group.
‘Thank you for inviting me, Reggie,’ I said politely, ‘goodnight, guys.’ How I managed to keep my voice from trembling I’ll never know.
Once outside, Grover asked, ‘Where do you live, Jack?’
‘Oh, ten minutes’ walk, a boarding house, down the far end of River Street.’
‘Well, that’s where you ain’t goin’, son. Got anywhere else?’
I thought of the key in my wallet that Juicy Fruit had given me, together with her door number in the alley. ‘Yeah. I guess.’ I pointed towards the lower end of the street. ‘Opposite end.’ It was 1.30 a.m. Fred had turned up at the game around midnight. She’d be asleep, but she’d insisted anytime, so I guessed it was okay.
‘We’ll wait here. Let you get in some distance while we watch yer back, they’ll be expecting you to go home,’ he pointed towards the boarding-house end of the street. ‘If they ask, we’ll tell them you headed that-a-way.’
‘Thanks, Grover, thanks, Fred.’
Grover grabbed me by the shoulder and looked me directly in the eye. ‘Good luck, kid. Take my advice, don’t tell no one where yer holing up, you hear me, Jack? Don’t even go back and collect your stuff at the boarding house. Get yer sweet ass out of town or we’ll be indentifying you in the city morgue.’
‘Lying next to Reggie,’ Fred said, laughing.
Grover gave me a push. ‘Go now, Jack, scram.’
‘So long, buddy, good luck!’ Fred called as I started to run.
Ten minutes later I knocked on Juicy Fruit’s door. I didn’t want to use the key if she was in. I didn’t know if the room was where she lived or where she carried on her business. Barging in when she was with someone wouldn’t be a good idea. Juicy Fruit and I had become very close in one sense, but she didn’t talk about the other side of her life. We hadn’t slept together since Regina. I remembered her exact words, ‘Jack, that was lovely, and on my terms for a change. Let’s not spoil it. One day, perhaps, when I’m free again, who knows?’ This was the closest she’d come to suggesting she might give up the game. I confess I longed to have her again, but I didn’t want to force the issue, and couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to. But she hadn’t discussed it, or asked my advice, and on
ce or twice when I’d said she was doing real swell as a singer and I could see her with a future, she’d given me the Juicy Fruit look of disapproval. ‘You’re hassling me, Jack. Leave it be.’ This had been enough to make me shut up and mind my own business. Juicy Fruit was in her own way just as strong minded as Miss Frostbite, and as Joe would say, ‘She done know her shit from Shine-ola.’ She didn’t talk about her family, except the one time she mentioned her little sister’s education, and once when she’d explained she’d gone on the game to take care of them all. Whether she was still responsible for them I had no idea. As I mentioned previously, she was a professional and didn’t do gratitude or even feel the need to explain herself.
Suddenly I heard her say, ‘Who is it?’ from the other side of the door.
‘Jack!’ I called back. ‘Are you alone?’ If she wasn’t I didn’t know what I was going to do. Spend the night beside the river, hiding in the brush?
I could see a light go on from a small window set above the door. Moments later there was a rattle that sounded like a chain latch, then the door opened. She was in a pair of striped pyjamas, two curlers stuck into her brown hair, so she was done for the night. ‘Jack, what’s wrong?’ she asked, her expression surprised and concerned. ‘Come in.’
I entered, still a little out of breath from running. She quickly closed the door and replaced the chain latch. ‘What’s happened? The game?’
‘Yeah. It was a set-up, but I won. The bastards are coming after me.’
‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Reggie’s friends?’
‘Some friends! They were meant to clean me out – Reggie’s revenge for taking his piano job.’
‘Yes, I suspected as much.’
‘Eh? You know? You knew it was a set-up?’
Juicy Fruit sighed. ‘Jack, I tried to tell you to watch out. I didn’t know it was a set-up, but that lot are pretty suspect. And I thought it would be okay with Grover and Fred in the game. They’re not thugs.’
‘Then do you also know Reggie owns half of Madam Rose?’
‘Yes, of course. I work here!’
‘And you didn’t tell me?’ I was beginning to lose it. ‘You didn’t think to tell me?’
‘Jack, I work here,’ Juicy Fruit said plainly.
‘So?’
‘So, how would that have helped? If the game was a set-up, he was only going to take your money. Big deal, it’s a wicked world, it can’t have been that much anyhow.’
‘Well, it didn’t work! If it hadn’t been for Madam Rose I’d be lying in the gutter bleeding to death,’ I said somewhat melodramatically. I was angry and didn’t care if she chucked me out and I’d have to spend the night out in the elements.
Juicy Fruit started to laugh. ‘Madam Rose! You mean Grover and Fred?’
‘Yeah, and it didn’t take too much figuring out that you fucked Fred!’ I snapped, irrelevantly.
‘So what? Anything for a friend.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Juicy Fruit folded her arms. ‘And who do you suppose went to Madam Rose? Me, that’s who, you stupid boy! Fred was the price I had to pay! Fred’s free fuck!’ Now she was angry. ‘It was like mating with a grizzly bear only the bear would have had better bed manners. Jack, they promised to pull you out of the game in time so you didn’t lose your shirt.’
‘Well, I won two-and-a-half grand.’
‘Uh?’ Juicy Fruit’s anger dissolved instantly and she looked worried. ‘Jesus, that true, Jack?’
‘Yeah. I thought you’d be happy?’
‘Happy? You’re in serious trouble.’
‘Yeah, I know. You said if ever . . .’ I held up the key.
‘Jack, Reggie Blunt is a bastard, but he’s not stupid, he’ll work out where you’ve come. Those three guys are hoods, bad news. One of them’s got a mental problem.’
‘The guy with the stare?’
‘Yes, that’s him, Snake Eyes. The girl who services him says he can barely get it up. Just sits and giggles and drools, than gets her to give him a blowjob. But he’s capable of killing you with his bare hands. We’ve got to get you away . . . away from here now, immediately, before Reggie works it out.’
‘Grover said to leave town, not even to go back and get my things from Mrs Henderson’s.’
‘Good advice.’
After all my petulance I felt like a real asshole. ‘Juicy Fruit, I’m truly sorry I went off at you like that. I’d better get the hell out of your room or you won’t be safe yourself.’
Juicy Fruit sat on the edge of her bed. ‘Jack, let me think a moment.’ I glanced around the room, which I saw was just a single room serving as both bedroom and sitting room, quite nicely furnished with a bathroom somewhere, or maybe not even that. ‘Give me the money,’ Juicy Fruit said. ‘If they catch you and you don’t have the money on you, they’re not going to kill you until they’ve got it. It’s safe with me.’
‘I could go hide by the river, in the brush. It’s not cold out this time of year.’
‘No, go to the Brunswick. You know all the night staff, have them give you a room, tell them to say nothing if Reggie or anyone else comes by. They never liked him anyway, treated everyone except Peter Cornhill like servants with his hoity-toity ways. He’s nothing but an old whore!’ she spat contemptuously. It was a curious description.
‘More fool me. I thought of him as a friend.’
‘C’mon, no time to talk about that now, they’ll probably go to the boarding house first. It’s two o’clock in the morning. If we’re lucky they’ll just let Snake Eyes wait outside until the morning, till you come out. Get over to the Brunswick now, get a room, lock yourself in and call me.’ She pointed to the telephone. ‘They all love you at the hotel. Nobody’s goin’ to give you away, not even for money.’
‘Juicy Fruit, I’ve got to get out of town! Out of Moose Jaw!’
‘Leave that part to me. Can I use some of the money? I may need a favour or two.’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Jack, call me, give me your room number, then whatever you do, don’t move. I’ll come and get you when it’s time.’
I was beginning to feel like a wimp. Rescued by women, always women. I was almost eighteen, almost six foot two inches tall and broad as my father without the gut, without the guts either. I was hiding as I’d always done, behind the skirts of a woman. I was a matter of four weeks away from going into the army to fight for my country and here I was being locked away in a hotel room while Juicy Fruit sorted out a way to get me out of town. It had been like that all my life, except that one time when I was a kid and I took my dad’s advice and tackled a bully in the schoolyard. Apart from that I’d never been in a fight. I was a piano player and my big Rachmaninoff hands were designed to make beautiful sounds, not to smash into another man’s face and beat it to a pulp. I wasn’t afraid; I’d never been afraid. As I grew older, my size had always kept the other kids at bay. But I knew a man like Snake Eyes, who was almost my size, would make mincemeat of me if we fought. Juicy Fruit could probably defend herself better than I could – defend me, it seemed, better than I could. If I left the money with her and went looking for him, after he’d beaten the living Christ out of me, would I feel vindicated? Is that what a real man would do? Get beaten up, half killed, on a point of principle?
Juicy Fruit seemed to read my thoughts. ‘No, Jack, if you’re thinking of going after them, don’t. Take Grover’s advice. You don’t stand a chance. Live to fight another day. Get going, we’ve got no time to lose. Give me the money. If they find you and you haven’t got it on you, you’ll be safe – they’re not going to leave without it. If they threaten you and you are in real danger, tell them where it is. I’ll handle it.’
I removed my wallet and quickly counted out two-and-a-half grand and handed it to her. This left me a hundred bucks – plenty – a month’s salary for a working man.
Juicy Fruit took the money, waving it in front of her face. ‘Jack, I could buy our farm back and
then some. I’ve never held so much money, it’s . . . well, frightening. People would kill for this.’
‘That seems to be the nub of it,’ I said, attempting a sardonic smile. ‘I feel like a real wimp.’
‘Don’t be childish, Jack. Now get going. If I don’t hear from you in an hour I’m calling the police.’ She held up the wad of notes. ‘Some of this will see to it that they go looking for Reggie’s friends. I have a client I can call who’s high enough in the ranks to create a fuss if I really have to. Use the staff door at the hotel. Now go!’
I made for the door, then realised how buttoned up I was being. ‘Juicy Fruit, I want you to take five hundred bucks for yourself, okay?’
She nodded, not making a big deal of it. ‘Thanks, Jack.’
‘No, thank you, Juicy Fruit,’ I replied softly. ‘Also, when things have cooled down a bit, could you give Mrs Spragg, she’s the cook at the boarding house, fifty dollars from me and tell her thanks for all the over easies?’
Juicy Fruit nodded again. ‘Good night, Jack. Oh, and make sure there’s a phone in your room,’ she repeated. She sounded just like Miss Frostbite or maybe Mrs Hodgson at the library. So much for the new grown-up Jack who’d decided he’d given up accepting generosity from the opposite sex. If I skipped town, Juicy Fruit’s singing career was over. Cam Kerr wasn’t going to hire her as a solo performer. Besides, she wasn’t really ready yet. She needed more time with me at the piano; I could cover for her when she made mistakes. No other piano player was going to do that for her, and her breasts, lovely as they were, weren’t sufficient on their own. She was pretty well finished. I’d effectively pushed her back into the brothel for the Freds of this world to salivate over.
The night clerk at the hotel didn’t even ask for an explanation when I told him I needed a secure room with a telephone that not even the management would know about. ‘I’m in a spot of trouble,’ was all I said, adding hurriedly, ‘but not with the police.’
‘Jack, say no more, buddy. Mind if I tell the switchboard? Otherwise your calls won’t get through. It’s Marion and June, you know them both. We’ll call you what?’
Jack of Diamonds Page 36
