by Alex P. Berg
I abstained. When lunch approached and a waiter brought appetizers to the table, I only touched those items others tasted first. I ordered a water, and when it came, I drank it slowly, even though I knew Shay had kept her eyes on its preparation and would’ve warned me if anything was amiss.
As we played, I couldn’t help but speculate. Was my attacker, and Shay’s, sitting by my elbows at the table? My own assault I could forgive, but if and when I discovered who’d nearly killed Shay, I might have a hard time keeping my fingers away from the soft flesh of their neck. Fortunately for the other players at the table, I had a hard time convincing myself any of them were responsible. Certainly, I didn’t think any of them had come after me. The more I saw of Ghorza, the more certain I became she wasn’t suffering any ill effects from a ferocious rib injury, and both Wanda and Theo were too small and weak to have inflicted any pain on me in the dark of the engine room. Orrin might’ve been able to, but he was too short. Given the trajectory of my swing, I would’ve hit him in the head rather than the ribs, and his face wasn’t bruised in the least. He did seem nervous, though, as I glanced back at him during a pause in the action.
The morning turned into afternoon, and on we played. The crowd ebbed and flowed. My pile of chips stayed roughly even, Wanda’s dipped, and Theo’s and Ghorza’s grew. Theo talked. Wanda didn’t. Ghorza acted aloof. And then I noticed something. Something innocuous. Probably nothing, but then again, maybe not.
On a hand in which Theo, Wanda, and Ghorza all played to the flop, Theo clenched his jaw a little on the raise. It wasn’t much. Maybe I’d imagined it, but the muscular clench went against the gnome’s carefree persona. Certainly I hadn’t noticed it before.
He won the hand after raising and forcing Wanda and Ghorza out, but later he did it again, and when pressed into a showdown with Ghorza, he lost the hand, and not with a particularly good set of cards.
Could it be…a tell?
Theo was smart. He knew as well as I did Wanda wouldn’t last long, and then it would be a three way game between him, me, and Ghorza. Could he be introducing a fake, intentional tell to throw the rest of us off? I couldn’t put the ruse past him, but then again, the more logical explanation—that the pressure of the game was finally breaking through his persona—made more sense. And poker, largely, was a game of percentages.
Either way, I’d only have one chance to use the knowledge to my advantage, and I needed to make sure I didn’t waste my shot.
We played a few more hands. Wanda won a much needed pot, though it didn’t do much to change her overall fortunes. I had the waiter refill my glass, but I didn’t drink. Patty collected the cards, shuffled them, and dealt everyone a pair.
Theo was up first. “Oh, come on, man. Patty, you’re killing me. When am I going to get something good?” He tossed forth his small blind.
Wanda said nothing as she tossed forth her big blind.
I glanced at my cards. Pocket kings, same as I’d had when I ousted Shay and Orrin. One of the best possible starting hands.
I matched Wanda’s bet, not wanting to scare anyone off, and Ghorza did the same.
Theo snorted. “You all are so rude. Here I am with a bad hand, and you’re forcing me to raise.” He pushed forth enough chips to match the bet.
“I thought your hand was terrible,” I said with a smile.
Theo smiled back. “It is, but I don’t want to hurt Patty’s feelings. Any more than I already have, that is.”
Patty flopped three cards over on the table. The king of clubs, jack of clubs, and ten of diamonds.
Theo blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Whoa. Well. That makes things interesting, doesn’t it?”
It did. The king gave me a high three of a kind right off the bat, but the jack and ten also set up the possibility of someone beating me with a straight, or with a flush should the cards fall right. Either way, it was a hand begging to be played.
Theo glanced at Wanda’s chip pile. “Patty, how much does this creature of the night have?”
“Ten thousand, three hundred crowns worth left, Mr. Hornshoe,” said Patty.
“Perfect. That’s how much I’m putting in, then.” Theo sectioned off the appropriate number of chips. As he pushed them across the table, his jaw clenched.
Gotcha, Theo.
Wanda sighed. Her head dipped, and though I couldn’t see through her shades, I could tell she was eyeing her chips. She spoke—finally!—in a thin, reedy voice. “Very well. I’m all in, I suppose.”
Given Theo’s chip pile of about fifty thousand crowns, he might bluff, but Wanda didn’t have that luxury. She must have something. Did she already have the straight?
My pocket kings were too good. I had to play. “Fine. I match.”
Ghorza blew air through her lips. She ran her tongue over a tusk, collected herself, and spoke, something she hadn’t done much of today. “Well, this pot is getting rich rather fast. Let’s make it even more interesting.”
Ghorza pushed forth ten thousand, three hundred crowns worth of her own chips.
Patty flipped another card.
Bam. The king of spades. I wanted to jump up and dance, pumping my fist through the air, but through some superhuman force of effort I kept calm.
“Well,” said Theo. “This continues to get more…interesting.” He stared at the cards, tapping his fingers on the table. He stared some more and kept right on tapping.
“You do realize the game goes on, even though Wanda reached her max bid, right?” I said.
Theo glared at me. “Don’t get smart with me, Thomas. That’s my role at this table. I know how to play the game, I’m just figuring how best to milk you on this hand.”
He pushed forth fifteen thousand crowns worth of chips, again clenching his jaw as he did so.
The tell didn’t matter anymore. He wouldn’t beat my hand. The only question was whether I should check and try to squeeze more out of him on the river or impose my will now.
Subtlety had never been my strong suit. I grinned. “I’m all in.”
An electricity had already been building in the crowd, but several gasps followed my play. I heard Orrin whistle, and Shay inhaled sharply.
The big orc woman sighed again. Sweat beaded on her brow. “Oh, my. Vlad? Fan me, please.”
The elven manservant walked over and did as he was asked. Ghorza took several deep breaths, eying the cards, her chips, and me in series. She had the most chips of any of us, but only by five or six thousand crowns.
“So,” I said after a pause. “What’ll it be?”
Ghorza removed her hat and glasses, setting them to the side. She picked up her drink, a mint, lime, and rum cocktail, and took a long draught. She nodded. “Very well. I match.”
It took all I had not to grin maniacally.
“Oh, come on, man…” Theo frowned and shook his head. “I hate you all. Yes. I’m in, too.” He flipped his cards, revealing a pair of jacks, giving him a full house.
Wanda swore and turned over her own cards. A pair of tens, also giving her a full house, but a lesser one to Theo’s. I thought I heard Orrin groan.
I dallied. “Ghorza?”
The orc woman flipped her cards. An ace and a queen, giving her a lowly straight.
I tossed my pair of kings into the middle of the table. Theo cursed and slammed a fist on the table. The crowd twittered. Ghorza held her breath.
Patty flipped the last card onto the table. The ten of clubs. Theo’s eyes widened. Wanda gasped, but the fourth ten wouldn’t help her beat my four kings. I started to reach for the enormous pile of chips.
“Royal straight over four of a kind and two full houses,” said Patty, her voice as calm as a still pool. “Game and match to Miss Skeez.”
Wait…royal flush? I glanced at Ghorza’s cards. The ace and queen—of clubs. The king and jack in the flop had also been clubs. The first ten hadn’t. But the second?
I slumped in my chair, and my jaw hit
my chest. I stared at the table, my arms hanging limply at my sides.
Ghorza wiped her face with a kerchief, took another long drink of her mojito, and waved at Vlad to fan her harder. She looked more relieved than joyous.
Wanda left her chair and stormed out. Orrin followed her. Theo popped out from his chair, came over to me, and slapped me on the shoulder. “Poker’s a bitch, isn’t she? Want to grab a drink?”
I shook my head. “Uh…no. Thanks.”
“Suit yourself.”
He headed to the bar. I just sat there, feeling numb and wondering what had happened.
34
I sat at one of the high stakes room’s corner tables with Shay, nursing a whiskey sour. Everyone, including the crowd in the gallery, had cleared out—except for the bartender, who sensed his professional skills might be needed given the way I’d flamed out on the last hand.
I shook my head. “I was so close, Shay. Over a hundred and fifty thousand crowns, after accounting for what was removed following Verona’s death. All lost on the flip of a card.”
“It wouldn’t have been our money to keep,” said Shay. “You know that, right?”
“Logically? Yes. But it’s still brutal on a psychological level. I can’t even imagine how I’d feel if I had been playing with my own money.”
Shay took a sip of her wine. “And if the winnings had been yours to keep? What would you do with it?”
“I’d blow it all on dope and hookers, same as anyone else.”
“Seriously, Daggers.”
I scratched my head. “I’m not sure.”
“Would you quit your job?”
I shook my head. “Nah. Then I wouldn’t get to see you anymore. Or Quinto and Rodgers, for that matter. Heck, even Cairny’s fun in her own quirky way. Besides, I like what I do, even if I don’t like it every moment of every day. I’d be bored to tears stuck at home with nothing to do.”
“So, then?” said Shay. “There has to be something.”
I gave it some thought. “I might move into a nicer apartment. One that’s never served as a de facto cat halfway house. But I wouldn’t splurge on fancy food or clothes. Neither’s my style, as you already know. And I wouldn’t travel much, either. It would keep me away from work for too long. I don’t know. I might invest some of it. Put it aside for Tommy in case he decides to go to a fancy college like you did.”
“Investments? College funds? Way to live life on the edge.”
“It’s what you get for shacking up with a man of my maturity level.”
Shay snickered. “Apparently that level is higher than I initially suspected. Basically, you’re telling me you wouldn’t change much of anything. So what are you upset about?”
“I already told you, it’s not logical.”
I heard the swish of fabric and turned to find Steck entering through the drapes that covered the front door. He motioned for the bartender to leave before crossing over to join us.
I tipped my glass to him. “Give my apologies to the department. Although I’d appreciate if we keep my loss on the down low. I’d rather not feel my fellow detective’s wrath when we get our bonuses at the end of the year.”
Shay lifted an eyebrow. “We get bonuses?”
“It’s a joke.”
Steck waved it off. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t expect you to win. Not that I doubted either of you, but with the lack of preparation and the odds generally stacked against us, I didn’t have high hopes. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about.”
It was my turn to lift an eyebrow. “Please tell me there hasn’t been another killing.”
“There hasn’t,” said Steck. “At least not that I know of. But that doesn’t mean I’m not at my wit’s end. We’ve had two disparate individuals murdered, two attempted murders on police officers, and yet despite all that—” He frowned and flicked his hands at the poker table.
“No fraud,” said Shay. “At least nothing obvious.”
“Exactly,” said Steck. “You don’t know because we brought you in at the last minute, but our sources were solid. One of the participants was bound to try something during this tournament, make a move to win this thing through dishonorable means. And yet nobody did!”
“Whoa, whoa,” I said, holding up my hands. “Slow your horses. Shay and I might not have noticed anyone cheating at cards, but that’s a far cry from saying this tournament was honorably won. Two people are dead. Shay and I are alive only because of our wits, quick reactions, and apparently, an unnatural cold tolerance. Someone spiked my drink. I suspect they did the same to Jimmy on the first day. Perhaps Ghorza, too, although I’m not as sure about her. It may not be fraud, but I’d call that a serious damn conspiracy.”
“Sorry,” said Steck, hanging his head. “You’re right of course. I misspoke. It’s just not at all what I expected when I organized this sting.”
“You expected a more traditional con,” I said. “Like where someone miraculously gets dealt the one and only card that could win them the game on the last play of the tournament.”
“You think Ghorza cheated?” asked Shay.
“She was one of our original suspects,” I said. “And what are the chances she would score a straight flush on the river? I haven’t done the math, but I’m sure it was miniscule. But it’s more than that. Ghorza, Wanda, Theo, and I all had fantastic hands that final round. It’s almost as if someone wanted us to all go in at the same time.”
“Wait,” said Steck. “Are you suggesting the dealer, Patty, orchestrated this?”
“Someone spiked my drink yesterday,” I said, “so she wouldn’t be the first of the ship’s crew to turn traitor.”
Steck held up his hands. “Really? I mean…okay, look guys. I’m feeling extremely out of my element here, so I’m going to follow your lead. Tell me how you want to handle this, and I’ll help any way I can.”
Steele gave me a nod. “Daggers.”
Nice of her to let me be the man and make the decisions—though I knew perfectly well she was capable of doing it herself. “First things first. The tournament is over, so there’s no point in us staying undercover any longer. Captain Heatherfield and Boatswain Olaugh said they were behind our investigation a hundred percent, and I plan on holding them to that. Steck. I want you to gather any information you can on Patty and our bartender that just left. If there’s any suspicion, or any connections to our players, I want to know. Meanwhile, Steele and I are going to pay a visit to Ghorza. See if she has any suspicious equipment or chemicals in her room. Depending on how that goes, we might be paying a few more of our competitors visits. Johann, mainly.”
“You got it,” said Steck. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I got the location of Ghorza’s stateroom from him before he left. I eyed my drink, but chose not to tip the rest of it back.
“Ready?” I asked.
Shay nodded. “Let’s do this.”
Together, we headed out through the casino and up to the promenade deck. Ghorza’s quarters were on the opposite side of the ship as ours, room one fifty nine. I patted my sport coat as we approached, wishing I had my badge with me now that I’d officially ditched my cover. Daisy’s presence would’ve provided me an additional comfort.
It’s possible Shay noticed me caressing my coat and read between the lines. “Any particular way you want to approach this? Do you want to come out as cops right away, or hold off on that until we need it?”
“Well, I was thinking—” I paused, my ears perking. “Hear that?”
Shay tilted her head. “Yes. Yelling. Is that…Ghorza?”
We rushed forward to find the door to her stateroom open. I burst into the living room where I found a bucking beast with three backs.
Jimmy had his hands wrapped around Ghorza’s neck, choking and shaking her and shouting barely intelligible, rage-filled threats. Ghorza fought back, gripping the big man’s shirt, pushing and trying to loosen his grip to littl
e avail. Her face resembled her dress in its hue. Meanwhile, Vlad clung from Jimmy’s back, holding him in a headlock and hanging on for dear life as Jimmy pitched about wildly. The broken glass remains of a coffee table littered the floor, and blood seeped from a nasty cut in Jimmy’s arm.
I darted forth and lashed out with a kick, catching Jimmy in the back of the knee. I followed it with a punch aimed at Jimmy’s head, but the big man buckled and twisted and I ended up catching Vlad in the side of the face. The elf grunted and lost his grip, falling to the floor with a thud.
Jimmy pushed Ghorza away, sending her tumbling over one of the room’s loveseats, before swinging a wild roundhouse punch my way. He wobbled as he threw it, possibly from lack of oxygen.
I made him pay. I ducked under it, letting the punch sail over me. When Jimmy twisted back toward me, my fist greeted him solidly in the underside of his jaw.
Teeth clacked. Pain shot through my knuckles. Jimmy crumpled and crashed to the floor.
Ghorza groaned and gasped as she lifted herself from behind the couch she’d knocked over.
Vlad similarly rose slowly, holding the side of his head and stretching his jaw. “Gods. What the hell…?”
“Sorry about your face,” I said. “I was aiming for this guy.”
I crossed to Jimmy. His current less-than-cognizant condition allowed me some investigative liberties. I lifted his shirt.
“Bingo. Shay. Come check this out.”
My partner stepped around the broken glass and took a gander. She whistled. “Looks painful.”
A wicked purple and yellow bruise stretched across Jimmy’s ribs, right at the height where a length of rebar swung from my hands might’ve impacted him.
35
I cracked the door and walked into the cell. My feet clattered off the smooth metal floor, the sound echoing off the bare walls before finding its exit through the bars at the front. Jimmy sat on a bench affixed to the wall, his hands cuffed and resting in his lap. He looked up at my approach. Other than a scrape across his temple and his bandaged arm, he didn’t look much worse for wear, but his shirt hid the damage I’d done to him yesterday.
