Savannah Law

by William Eleazer

  After the show, Jaak took his group to dinner at a popular restaurant near the hospital—the only “payment” the entertainers would receive. Jaak always picked up the tab, except when the Bank Notes entertained. On those occasions, once or twice a year, the bank executives insisted that they treat.

  After dropping off his passengers, Jaak returned to the Library. He was tired, but he was looking forward to the poker game with his old friends.

  CHAPTER 20

  It was almost nine when Jaak arrived back at the Library, and the poker game was in full swing. All the “usual suspects” were there—Jimmy, Malcolm, Denis, Rench, Pete, and Bill. Juri was sitting in for Jaak. The game was briefly suspended while Jaak reported on the show that afternoon, and Juri counted his chips to check out and make room for his brother.

  “Who’s the big winner tonight?” asked Jaak, eyeing the table and seeing the big stack of chips in front of Denis.

  All the heads turned to Denis, and Denis smiled. “About time. I’ve been supporting you guys for a long time. Sent your kids through college and built additions on your houses. Lady Luck finally smiled on me.”

  Jaak gave Denis a thumbs up. He was glad to see that Denis was finally getting a break.

  Before sitting down to play, Jaak walked to the refrigerator and brought out a beer. Looking at the strange label, Jaak asked, “Fine-looking beer. Who brought it?”

  “I brought it from Asheville,” replied Pete. “Was up there for a convention last week. They have some neat breweries using that mountain water. I could use one myself. How about handing me one, Jaak. Anyone else?”

  A couple of hands went up, and Jaak complied. He sat down, and after slowly pouring his beer into a glass, he held it up in a salute.

  “Here’s to Denis. May his luck remain, except when I’m in the game. Deal!”

  The game continued, as did Denis’s winning streak. When the evening was over, he cashed in $95 worth of chips, the clear winner for the evening. It came mostly at the expense of Jimmy and Bill, who did not seem to mind, for over the years, most of their winnings had come at the expense of Denis.

  Juri remained at the Library, occasionally returning to the lounge to kibitz. After the game was over and all had departed, he came in and sat down near Jaak.

  “I was glad to see Denis finally have a big night,” said Jaak.

  “I guess it was OK, but can’t say it really thrilled me,” said Juri. “He changed his favorite game from five-card stud to Texas Hold ’Em and Omaha. Maybe that helped. Or maybe it was the cards—he brought a fresh deck. Do you suppose he took that deck out to Bonaventure for Minerva to put her voodoo on it?” Juri stood up. “Been a long day for you... and me,” he said. “I’m out of here. See you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, good night. I’ll lock up,” Jaak replied.

  He was tired and did not immediately get up. Instead, he sat at the poker table. His short conversation with Juri remained in his thoughts, and a comment that Juri had made as he was leaving began to trouble him. “He brought a fresh deck.” That was puzzling. The gang often brought something to share, such as the beer Pete brought from Asheville, but no one had ever brought a fresh deck of cards.

  Jaak was curious. The long metal case that held the chips and cards was still on the poker table. He opened it. Where there had been one deck, now there were two. Both were Rider Back decks— the classic, double-ended design with the winged cherub astride a bicycle. One deck was obviously quite new; someone had indeed brought a new deck.

  Jaak removed the cards from the box. He did not want to admit to his suspicion, not even to himself. He shuffled them and dealt them several times, carefully observing their appearance on the table. He felt for uneven edges, ridges, and different thicknesses. Nothing unusual. There were no apparent markings anywhere that he could find. The cards had the customary numbers and royalty figures on one side and, on the other, the winged cherubs riding bicycles within large circles, surrounded by an elaborate filigree design. Also, within the circles were a dozen or so small wing-shaped objects resembling sea gulls as they appear in a seascape, soaring at a distance. Jaak spread the cards face down on the table and looked at them from various angles and saw nothing unusual.

  Relieved and a bit chagrined that his suspicion appeared unfounded, he was about to put them away when he recalled something else that Juri had said: “He changed his favorite game from five-card stud to Texas Hold ’Em and Omaha.”

  The comment rekindled Jaak’s curiosity. He had not given Denis’s choice of games any special thought when he was playing, but now, as he reflected on the evening, Juri was correct: Denis had indeed abandoned his five-card stud game for Texas Hold ’Em and Omaha. In the years that Denis had played at the Library, Jaak could not recall a single game in which Denis had dealt Omaha or Texas Hold ’Em.

  In casinos, the community cards stay in the deck until dealt, concealing the backs of the cards and any special markings they may have. But the way the Library gang played Omaha, as well as Texas Hold ’Em, the flop (first three community cards), the “river” and the “fifth street” cards were dealt down immediately, in a five-card row. Thus, the backs of these five cards were visible throughout the betting, and when Omaha double-flop was played, the backs of ten cards were displayed across the table.

  He separated the cards by suit and placed them face down in separate piles, four horizontal rows of thirteen cards each. He looked carefully for a few moments—very carefully—and it hit him. The rows were different, almost indiscernibly different, but indeed different. At first he could see no specific color, mark, or figure that made them different. He then took one card from the “club row” and one from the “hearts row,” placed them side by side, and examined them closely. He went over each part of the intricate design. After several minutes, he saw it, the difference.

  It was so simple, so imperceptible. It was the cherub’s arms and legs. On the club card, on the cherub’s right arm at the elbow, there was a dark gray line, about an eighth of an inch long, where the elbow would bend. It looked quite natural, perhaps a shadow. Had the mark been anywhere else on the card than at the bent elbow, it might have been noticed. But its placement made it undetectable— just a shadow. On the heart card, on the cherub’s left leg at the knee, there was an identical dark gray shadow line. He compared the other suits and found similar marks. On the diamond cards, the mark was on the cherub’s left arm at the elbow. On the spade cards, it was on the cherub’s right leg at the knee.

  Jaak was sure that the numerical value of each card also was hidden in the design. He separated the cards by their numerical value, then took a 4 and compared it with a 10. Then a 6 with a 2. It took almost half an hour, but he found what he was looking for—at least he found a clue. It was the varying number of “sea gulls” surrounding the cherubs. In the upper portion of the circle containing the cherub, each card always contained ten winged objects, four on the right of the cherub and six on the left. In the lower part of the circle, there were more winged objects, but the number varied, some cards having none and some as many as four.

  He studied the cards carefully. He noted that the 3 contained exactly three winged objects in the lower portion, which initially seemed to be the key. Then he noted that the 8 also had three winged objects. Additionally, all kings had three. Solving the code was not going to be so simple. For the next two hours, he arranged and rearranged the cards in various stacks and positions according to the number of winged objects, the value of each card, its suit, and any other way that came to mind, but he could not unlock the riddle.

  It was now 3 a.m., and he was extremely tired. It had been a long day. His mind was darting between puzzlement and confusion, indignation and anger, but all of these emotions were trumped by the sick feeling in his stomach. Apparently, he and his friends had been cheated by someone whom they knew and respected. Jaak wanted very much not to believe it. Perhaps Denis was unaware of the markings. Surely, it was merely a mistake. Maybe someone had so
ld this deck of cards to Denis without Denis being aware of these markings. After all, he had known Denis for many years, and he was a good judge of character. And could Juri be sure that it was Denis who brought the cards? He must be careful not to jump to conclusions.

  But Jaak was no fool. The evidence was overwhelming. Someone had brought marked cards to the Library. Such conduct among long-time friends.... Jaak could not come up with the appropriate word. He left the cards on the table, locked up, and drove home. He went to bed but slept little.

  CHAPTER 21

  Monday, August 28

  The next morning, Jaak was still pondering the riddle when he arrived at the Library. Juri had arrived first, as he usually did, and was consulting with the chef. They seemed to be in a serious discussion, so Jaak decided to wait before showing the cards to Juri. But he was anxious to solve the mystery. What did the varying number of winged objects mean? He was sure that the value of each card could be determined by anyone with the key.

  When Juri entered the room, Jaak was hovering over the poker table, resting heavily on his elbows and peering intently at the cards. He had again separated the cards by suit and spread them out in four rows, face down. Juri joined him at the table. He looked at the rows of cards and tried to determine what was so fascinating to Jaak.

  “See anything unusual about these cards?” asked Jaak.

  “Rider Backs all look alike, except some are red and these are blue. Am I supposed to see something unusual?”

  “No, the idea behind these cards is that you see nothing unusual. Pigeons have poor eyesight.”

  “This looks like the deck we played with last night. What’s up, Jaak?”

  “Yes, this is the deck. You told me Denis brought it—right?” asked Jaak, as he removed his elbows from the table and stood upright.

  “Yes,” replied Juri. He bent down to take a closer look at the four rows of cards that Jaak had laid on the table.

  “Still see nothing unusual?” asked Jaak.

  Juri continued to look intensely at the four rows. “Just four rows of Rider Backs, Jaak.”

  Jaak then scooped up all of the cards, shuffled them, and placed the deck on the table in front of Juri. “Take one card of each suit, and don’t let me see what you select. Then place them in a row, face down on the table.” Jaak pulled up one of the chairs and took a seat at the table.

  Juri did as Jaak requested.

  When he was finished, Jaak looked at the row of cards, and then quietly said, “The one on the left end is a diamond; next to it is a spade, then a club, and on the right end is a heart.”

  Juri turned to Jaak with a frown and a seriously puzzled look. Then he turned over the cards. They were exactly as Jaak had called them. “We played with marked cards last night, Jaak?”

  “I’m afraid so, Juri.”

  Then Jaak explained the marking that allowed him to identify the suits. He showed Juri the small sea gulls in each circle. “I know these birds are the key to each card’s value,” said Jaak, “but I still can’t unlock the puzzle. The 3s have three birds on them, but so do the 8s and the kings. There’s something else needed and I can’t find it. I spent hours last night looking. It has me beat. How about you taking a shot at it?”

  “Sure, Jaak. But what about Denis? We... you... what’s to be done, you know, about Denis?”

  “I think I know, but I want to sleep on it for a day or so. I don’t want to act while I’m angry. And right now I’m pretty pissed off, as well as feeling some deep-down hurt. Denis was my friend— our friend, friend of everyone in the poker group. I’ve got the same feeling now that I get when a close friend dies. Sure, he was the usual loser, but his losses were a pittance. What—twenty, thirty, maybe fifty dollars—for five hours of entertainment? It couldn’t have been the money. He’s got plenty and makes plenty. It had to be something else. Pride, I guess. But we’ve all lost at times.” Jaak paused, and seemed to be thinking. Then a smile came to his face, and he continued. “Denis is the dumbest damn poker player I’ve ever seen. He never got it. The gang’s going to miss his money.” Jaak’s smile developed into a chuckle.

  “You are going to ban him from the poker game?” asked Juri.

  “Do you think I have a choice?”

  “I guess not. What will you tell the others?”

  “Nothing. And I will simply tell Denis he is no longer welcome, and why. That’s it. As much as I would like to tell the gang that they’ve been playing with a duplicitous bastard, I won’t. We have a friendly poker game—I don’t want it to develop into a gossip table. They only see him on Sunday nights. They will no longer see him. End of story. I trust you will not bring this up.”

  “Of course not, Jaak. But they’ll ask about Denis’s absence.”

  “And they’ll simply be told that, for personal reasons, Denis is no longer playing. And I assure you that after I confront Denis, he will indeed have personal reasons for not playing. I’ll see him sometime before Sunday. He usually comes in at least once during the week. And if I don’t see him before Sunday, I’ll call him.”

  “You going to ban him from the Library bar also?” asked Juri.

  “No, but I have a feeling that after I speak with him, we won’t see him around. You are sure it was Denis who brought the cards?”

  “That’s how I recall it—I’m ninety-nine percent certain. A couple others came in about the same time, so I can’t be absolutely certain, but I’m pretty sure it was Denis.”

  That was not certain enough for Jaak. If he was going to accuse Denis of planting marked cards, he wanted more than “pretty sure.” Jaak had some detective work in front of him. First and most important, was it Denis? Could he be certain, one hundred percent? Second, he wondered where Denis, or anyone else, could have found such shrewdly and expertly marked cards. And, third, he wanted to know the key to the part of the puzzle he was missing—the value of each card.

  “I’ve got to make some phone calls,” Jaak said and promptly departed for his office.

  The most likely place to start was with the shops in the area that sold magician supplies. He called an old friend, George Jones, Savannah’s “Mr. Magic.” Jones was an expert magician, as well as an illusionist and mentalist, who had joined Jaak on two trips to the VA Hospital to entertain. Jones told Jaak that he knew of only one place in Savannah that might have such cards: the Magic Castle. Jaak put the deck of cards in his pocket and drove to Savannah Mall. The Magic Castle was a small shop in one of the lightly traveled mall corridors. Boxes of inexpensive magic tricks, puzzles, and games lined the shelves along the wall. Advertisements for Harry Houdini straightjackets, unicycles, magic supplies, and magic shows were displayed throughout the store. In the rear was a long glass showcase with accessories of all types: linking rings, knotted ropes, small coins, half coins, folding coins, fake bills, silk handkerchiefs— almost anything the aspiring amateur magician would want.

  No other customers were in the store. A tall, thin, middle-aged man wearing black, horn-rimmed glasses—the only clerk in the store, perhaps the shop owner—was seated behind the glass counter. He stood up to welcome Jaak. Jaak gave him a friendly “good morning,” pulled the cards from his pocket, and placed them on the counter.

  “Do you sell cards like these?” Jaak asked.

  “Bicycle Rider Backs? Sure,” the man responded.

  “These are not standard Rider Backs. They are marked,” said Jaak.

  The clerk picked up one card and said, “Marked? Where?”

  Jaak pointed to the marks.

  The clerk examined the card carefully and said, “Yes, we sell this type, but not often. I can recall only one order in the last year or so. Most of our customers are amateur magicians, not card sharks. They usually use cards they can read by touch—shaved edges or raised dots. We keep those in stock. But these cards have to be ordered from a broker in Hong Kong. May take a month or so, and they are quite expensive.”

  “How expensive?” asked Jaak.

  “
I don’t recall. Let me see if I can find the invoice for that last order.” The clerk walked a few feet to a metal filing cabinet and returned with a file folder filled with pink invoices. He flipped through the pages. “Here it is,” he said, as he placed the invoice on the counter top.

  Even upside down, Jaak could read the top part of the invoice: “Purchaser: Denis Nolan.” A telephone number was also listed, but Jaak couldn’t quite make it out, and he didn’t really try.

  Juri’s recollection—“pretty sure it was Denis”—was now confirmed. Jaak had the most important information he came for. But he still wanted the key to solving the numerical value of each card.

  The clerk ran his finger down the pink invoice and then looked up at Jaak. “The price is $149.99 plus tax. I see from the invoice it takes about three weeks for delivery. There isn’t much demand for them, so we require payment in advance, and they are not returnable.”

  “So there are no cards like these in stock,” said Jaak. It was more of a statement than a question. Then he asked, “Would you know how to read these cards? I don’t have the key. I’ll pay for the information.”

  “Sorry, I can’t help you. The answer—the key, as you call it—comes packed with the deck. I’ve never even seen one.”

  “So the only way I can find out how to read this deck is to order another deck for 150 bucks or so?”

  “Yes. But even then, I’m not sure the new deck would have the same marks. These are custom cards, produced in China. I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t. You pay; I order. When they get here, I’ll call you; you pick up the cards—and the cards and the key are yours. That’s about it.”

  “Thanks,” said Jaak, and he turned and walked out. He realized he had all the information that he was going to get from this visit to the Magic Castle, but it was enough.