Dead Man's Hand

by Steven Meehan

  Chapter 8

  While Jonathan contemplated his next move after Kelly’s bet, I knew he thought she was bluffing. It was too bad he hadn’t spent the last couple of hours studying the players like I had. If he had paid closer attention then he would have known that yes, she was bluffing, but I was fairly sure that his hand would lose either way. I was confident because I knew their tells. And I knew them, because I had done the work to figure them out. Sometimes I continued to play a hand that I had no business continuing, but the payments I gave to them were well spent because I gathered what I needed. That or I planted what I could use.

  Now Kelly had more than a dozen different tells, some were false but a good handful were precious tools to use against her. Unfortunately for Kelly that little eye twitch of hers, as slight as it was, was a dead giveaway that she was trying to bluff her way out of the bad hand she had been fishing on. Fortunately for her that twitch was variable, and this time it had been slighter than the last time I saw it, so while she may have something to hold on to she was still trying to bluff her way out of the hole she had jumped in with Tyson

  Now Tyson was the player at this table, and as such, he was the only one I had been unable to get a read on. To be fair there had been two players that I had quickly decided to ignore rather than waste precious time studying. Simone and Tiffany clearly didn’t come here to play poker; at least as far as I could tell. The pair had lacked any kind of knowledge of the game; I mean, they didn’t even know the order of the hands. Their decision to enter had troubled me at first since, just like me they had ponied up the entrance fee, but unlike me, they obviously didn’t come to play the game.

  It wasn’t until after they were eliminated that I discovered their real reason for coming, as foolish as I thought it was. During the first hour everyone else at the table was able to bleed them at a good pace, so their wealth was being redistributed evenly enough. Until Tyson managed to eliminate them both at the same time. So he absorbed the reminder of their chips into his own pile. And since they each roughly had about half of their starting amount, Tyson had lucked into a staggering lead over the rest of us. A lead which was only exacerbated by the fact that he was clearly a very talented professional. But once they were eliminated the two women cheerfully got up and were escorted by one of Dempsey’s goons into the stadium seats surrounding the room. The next time I caught sight of them it looked like they were placing bets. They were placing bets, presumably on who would finish where, and no one at the table mentioned it. So I had to assume that it was standard procedure.

  Of course I spent a poor hand thinking about why Dempsey would be doing something like this. I managed to figure it out before the next hand started. This was Dempsey’s control over his elite guests. From the moment I walked into this room, I felt like I was a gladiator and it turned out that I really was in a way. This whole tournament was nothing but a spectator sport for those elite few that he brought in. While a few of them would get to play with the real professionals if only for a short while; someone might even get lucky enough to take one out. But that wasn’t important, no, once their time at the tables was over they were guided from the playing arena up to the stadium where they could mingle with their own. Once there, they would be able to share their experiences with the ones who hadn’t made the cut. But they would also be able to place bets on those still in the game.

  When Dempsey’s control became clear, so too did his real purpose. This wasn’t about making money; it was about social networking. Dempsey was slowly merging his business interests with society’s elite. Sure, he made a healthy profit from the entrance fees, not to mention the apparent extracurricular betting and furniture. But even if Dempsey were running this tournament at a loss he would find a way to continue doing it, if only so he could continue to influence the next generation of business leaders.

  It was impressive how far out the man was willing to plan. He was running a game of his own and everyone involved was a valid piece to move. He was teaching these future leaders to trust him; to lean on him; to come to him for everything. And with that it was no wonder Dempsey’s sphere of influence was rumored to be as large as it was; he was spreading it across the United States a company at a time. Those companies wouldn’t strictly belong to him, but they would still be his, or more importantly under his influence. And the fact that the tournament only had a limited number of seats only increased its popularity. I could feel the weight of Dempsey’s cold intellect just as much as Tyson’s chip count and they were both staggering.

  I was eventually able to shake that realization but it had cost me a small chunk of my chips. I refocused myself on the game and, for the next hour or so, Tyson was busy trying to eliminate Malone. I had managed to eliminate Gregory. While all of us were hemorrhaging chips to Tyson, Gregory was simply doing so at a higher rate. Now he still had about a quarter of chips when he fell to me, but I was certain that the fact he had been losing so much and so fast surly weighed in on his decisions.

  I had been able to find a single chink in Gregory’s decent demeanor, and it was more of a gut feeling than a chink. But it was enough to tell me that he had gotten two pair with the flop. As it stood his hand was better than mine but I had a good draw, though I certainly needed more help. It came with the last card, I had gotten my straight. And I was even able to coax Gregory to pony all he had left. While I was sorting my new found wealth he was escorted to the stadium seats. I now had some protection from Tyson’s bullying, though he still had quite the lead.

  As sweet as the memory of my recent victory was, I needed to focus on what was happening around me. Bringing my attention back to the present I looked over at Jonathan and saw him tapping his cards, nervous habits weren’t a good thing to have in poker. Granted, without context that alone would mean absolutely nothing. Sure you could probably guess that he was nervous but that would probably be about it. But I had been studying these people so I was able to place it in context. I knew he was going to fold and I probably knew it before he did.

  Within a few moments Jonathan proved my guess correct when he tossed his cards back to the dealer. And then there were two. Kelly’s bet was to Tyson, and the man wasted no time re-raising Kelly enough to bankrupt her if she choose to pursue the hand. I knew Kelly’s hand was nothing better than two pair, maybe trips if she was lucky, but there were a lot of possible combinations that would beat either of those hands. So far she had shown herself to be a competent player, if not a really good one, so she had to see that as well. She was going to fold, her brain just had to get the message to her hands. But she sat there staring at Tyson’s new raise seriously contemplating whether she would match it. Had she somehow found a tell amidst Tyson’s chiseled façade? Or was she simply frustrated with how Tyson was bullying them?

  But after a few more moments the analytical portion of her mind must have kicked in because she surrendered the hand to Tyson. The silent juggernaut smiled as he flipped over his pocket kings revealing his winning hand, trip kings. From here I could feel the frustration radiating off of her, was it possible that she could have won the hand if she had stayed in? It would certainly fit her, but more than likely she was just frustrated that Tyson had won another hand again. Begrudgingly I had to admit that Tyson was a very good strategist, though his steel etched face certainly helped mask what he was planning.

  My legs were growing stiff so I needed to stand up and stretch. I stood and it felt great to reach for the vaulted ceiling above our heads. Before I was finished I heard Allison voice sweetly ask, “Giving up so soon Marcus?”

  I knew she was just trying to get under my skin. Still stretching, I spoke gently as I answered her taunt. “Perish the thought Alison. No I’m simply stretching my stiff body, I was getting a little sore.” As I finished with that particular stretch I went on to another one and continued, “I don’t know about you, but after sitting down for three hours I could use a quick stretch.”

  William, who was still sitting next to me, picked up
the chips required for the big blind and held them for a moment. “Well you two can do whatever you want; meanwhile a game is going on.” With that he tossed his bet into pot, letting the chips punctuate his words.

  And when the last chip hit the table the dealer began dealing out the hand and within a few moments the cards were ready for us all. With the cards in place and everyone waiting on me I sighed like a put upon child and returned to my seat. I lifted up the corners of my cards I saw both the seven and ace of spades. An ace and a seven were not much on their own but they were suited and that was worth pursuing at least for a while. I sat there for a minute and tapped the table with my fingers, pretending to think about the odds. As long as no one tried to raise the big blind I was willing to pay to see the flop. “Well their good enough for me to see the flop.” I said aloud as I tossed in the required chips.

  Now Allison was on the clock. While she thought about her cards I let my eyes wander around the room, but they ultimately fell upon Tyson’s eyes. Those cold and steely blue eyes kept pulling me back whenever I tried to look away. Something about them was just off. And I couldn’t put my finger on it, which only further unsettled me. Every time I was drawn to study the tiny fields of blue and white, my uneasiness grew by leaps and bounds.

  When I look at something that is alive I expect to see the normal signs of life staring right back at me. Even something as simple as looking at a pair of eyes I can tell when someone is still driving the bus, so to speak. But staring into Tyson’s eyes, I couldn’t see the slightest sign of life. If the eyes truly are the windows to one’s soul then at that moment I would have shouted to the world that Tyson was in fact soulless, that he was just a very advanced automaton, but I knew better. Robots didn’t exist. So how was his gaze so lifeless?

  Then with a mental click I realized that Tyson was silently and unobtrusively studying me. He was taking in absolutely everything about me, trying to build himself the perfect cheat sheet while he was playing against me. And the fact that I had caught him doing it simply didn’t faze him; he just kept right on collecting his precious data. And right then not only did I feel incredibly exposed but I also knew that Tyson was going to be at the final table. And I truly began to worry about making it there myself.

  I had been so focused on Tyson’s silent study of me that I almost missed Allison’s words. “Well I can’t justify paying for the flop.” She was disappointed, at least I thought she was, not that I was a good judge right then, as she pushed her pair of cards back to the dealer. With a scoff she looked at everyone and said, “I don’t think anything would have come up that would have let me beat Tiffany.” Whether she meant for it to happen or not, everyone save Tyson laughed, even the stoic dealer cracked a smile.

  Unable to keep from piling on the defenseless Tiffany, Jonathan calmly added his own thoughts. “That may be but I’m sure you would have been able to convince her otherwise.” I was certain that his quip was simply an attempt to deflect from his own dissatisfaction with his cards, because he quickly followed Allison’s lead as he tossed his hand to the dealer as well.

  “True enough, Jonathan, but then where would the challenge have been?” Allison replied but before anyone could respond she stood up and continued on. “I think I’ll follow your lead Marcus but I think my stretch will take me over to the bar, I need a drink. Enjoy the round everyone.” With that she abruptly turned around and made her way to the bar.

  Without unnecessary words, which for Tyson meant that he was still his stoic and mute self, the man casually called the big blind. Despite my earlier thought, I felt like folding my hand, no matter that I had paid to see the flop. Tyson’s stare was just that unnerving. It was obvious that he was just trying to bully the rest of us with his ever increasing stack. Just like every other time Kelly had had the small blind, she instantly paid the difference so she could see the flop as well. Finally William checked away his opportunity to raise the buy in.

  The stern faced dealer quickly burned the top card and produced the flop. Intently, I studied the cards for a moment and mentally danced for joy. Now all I needed was to hook one of the players, it didn’t matter who. In the center of the table there were the deuce and jack of spades split by the seven of hearts. So far this night I had managed to catch three flush draws just like this, I was going to run with my past luck and wipe that expressionless look off of Tyson’s face, well that was my hope anyway.

  Kelly was willing to see how the round developed so she simply checked the opening bet to William who instantly reached for a stack of chips. But instead of collecting a bet he sat there playing with the stacks. Eventually he decided that five-thousand dollars would be sufficient. Looking at his face he did a decent job of hiding his emotions from view, but fortunately for me, I hadn’t stopped my exam with his face. I studied his entire body. His hands told me the entire story that his face was schooled enough not to.

  After a moment of consideration I made a comment on his bet. “You must have something special to make a starting bet like that.” Which was not entirely true, I mean his bet wasn’t all that lavish, at least not for the moment. But free information was always a good thing. Not that I was necessarily pressed to collect any more on him.

  “No, no, no, no, no Marcus.” William rushed with just a little bit too much force behind it. He must have realized that as well because he quickly made a decent recovery. “If you want to see what I have here,” he busied himself tapping the backs of the cards before him just the little bit of emphasis. “Then you’ll have to pay to see them just like anyone else.”

  His busy hands had told me that while he didn’t have anything solid as of yet, he was chasing down a better than decent draw. Like me, could he be hoping for a flush? It was possible, but that slight hesitation before his bet made me think the chances of that were unlikely. Even if he was after a flush, it made little difference at the moment. There were still two cards left to shape the game and I liked my draw better, after all with a flush draw I was holding the ace. And that meant that I would beat any other flush so I might as well see just how far I could push the pot. “Let’s make it eight thousand to see what’s next.”

  Of course the living statue tossed in the required eight thousand. But Kelly took a long look at what was out on the table and then thought about what she was holding before looking back at the rest of us saying, “Looks like it’s time for me to get off this ride.” Then she slid her cards towards the dealer before mumbling a curse under her breath. She needed to learn a little more control.

  Once I raised his bet, William’s hands had been busy with a small stack of chips, and as soon as Kelly folded he asked the dealer, “That leaves three to me, correct?”

  “Yes sir.” The dealer answered.

  “Three it is then.” William replied as he added the required chips into the pile.

  I kept my eyes on William’s hands so I was barely aware of the dealer’s motions. But as I needed to watch William’s hands, and I knew the new card helped him, but I also knew he still needed more. And with a glance at the community cards I saw that the four of spades had been added to the collection. Well that ruled out a flush for William. So what was the man fishing for with what was available? Could he have been betting on a straight draw? A straight draw would be a good hand to bet on but not with the flush draw right there staring up at us.

  William was yet again playing with another stack and looking from the community cards to me then Tyson and back down to his pocket cards. All the actions were purely there for show. He had already made up his mind as far as this bet was concerned. He was just trying to distract us, well me, with some indecision. “Hmmm… Well I think I’ll start this round out with ten thousand.” William said with all the apparent calm of someone sitting at a bus stop casually waiting for his ride.

  He was so confident, but how could he be if he was really chasing down a straight? There was no straight flush available, was there? In play were the two and four of spades, I suppose he could
have two low value spades then he would need just one more. Could he really be trying to pull off a straight flush? If he was he would be able to fall back on the flush, which ordinarily would be a decent fall back hand but I still held the ace so I would beat him. I studied William and as I counted out the ten grand. “You said ten grand right?”

  With a nod William answered, “It’s not too rich a bet for you is it?”

  He was certainly full of himself, it was time I cured him of that. “Certainly not, Will.” I answered as I collected fifty thousand dollars of chips, “Not when I’m about to raise you forty grand.”

  Slightly annoyed William retorted, “Marcus you’re not going to be able to bully me out of this hand.” So we sat back and waited for Tyson to make his bet.

  William was fishing for a straight flush, I had no way to know how I knew, but he was fishing for the straight flush. And I knew it just as soon as the words left his mouth. William was one card away from a straight flush, which of course would net him the better hand, but I had to keep my rising fear inside. I decided to be a little flippant if only to lighten my mood. “I wouldn’t dream of it Will, though by the looks of it our friend Tyson must have quite the hand since forty thousand is of no concern to him.” Unfortunately while William had been so busy talking to me he had missed just how quickly Tyson collected his chips. He was really eager for this hand, it was the first time I had seen him excited.

  Meanwhile Allison, who had just returned, couldn’t restrain herself any longer. “I couldn’t be happier that I skipped the hand. I hate giving my money to Tyson.”

  A blustery William looked away from me and stared her down asking, “And just what makes you think he’ll win this hand.”

  And with my mouth running on autopilot I answered for Allison. “Well Will, I think Allison is basing that statement on the fact that our, apparently mute friend here has yet to actually lose a hand that he pursued.” Looking from William to Allison I made sure my logic was accurate. When I saw her looking down her nose at me I added, “At least I presume that’s what you meant. Was I wrong?”