Poker News

Poker Cop

Detective Sweeny has told the newspapers: “The people of this city can rest easy. A ‘Mad Dog Killer’ has been put down.”

I, “The Mad Dog Killer,” put down the paper and quote Mark Twain, “The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.” Reading the story of my own exaggerated death leaves me uneasy. Again I get the feeling Something’s wrong. Something’s. . . .”

“Something’s wrong,” I say to Jake, “Listen!”

“I don’t hear anything.” “That’s what’s wrong! No cards being shuffled. No chips being riffled. No. . . .”

Jake grabs for his shotgun as the door is kicked in.

The Goon who’s kicked in the door steps back, revealing an older woman dressed in black. “Thank you, Vittorio,” says the woman to the Goon, “Go and wait by the car.” Vittorio does as he’s told.

“You,” she says to Jake, “wait outside with him.” Jake also does what he’s told.

“I am Donna Francesca, the widow of Don Giuseppe Fuocco.”

“I’m Jack. . . .”

“I know who you are, Mr. Thayer. I paid a great deal of money to find you. She picks up the newspaper. “It says in your obituary you were a cardcheat.” She smiles. “Gyp loved to cheat. When he was little, his nonno taught him to cheat at Go Fish. The Don always said, ‘It’s never too early to learn how to cheat.’” She frowns. “At the Don’s funeral almost everyone asked me the same question: ‘Who would kill Don Giuseppe?’ All except Gyp. He asked me, “Who did his nonno play poker with? I gave Gyp four names. Now he, and they, are dead. I am told you were the last to see Gyp alive. Tell me what happened.”

I tell her the story of “The Small Man,” and “The House Of Cards” and how I found Gyp, and the others, dead. “And now you’re searching for this Card House?”

My poker face fails. “How could you know?”

“Jenny, a ‘guest’ in my home, she says you are continuing this dangerous search.”

When I tell her “Yes,” the Donna searches in her pocket.

“Gyp asked me to look through his nonno’s things. ‘What am I looking for?’ I asked.”

“Something about poker playing,” he told me, “something about a Card House.”

“This was all I could find.”

It’s a red $25 poker chip from a notorious bust-out joint called THE LIMP INN.

“I must get back home,” says Donna Francesca. “Ever since his father and nephew were killed by this double-barreled shotgun-wielding maniac, my son Paulo worries I will die in the same manner.” I walk her out to the street where Vittorio and Jake stand by her town car.

I open her car door. She stops, asks, “What is a bust-out joint?”

“A crooked poker room where you buy-in and bustout.”

“The Don would never play in such a place. He would cheat but never be cheated.”

Vittorio opens the town car’s back door. “What does this ‘bust-out’ place have to do with Gyp’s death? With the Don’s?”

“I don’t know.” I hold up the red $25 chip. “I’ll take this orphan home and find out.”

“Thank you, Mr. Thayer,” says the Donna, getting into the back seat. “You, like Gyp, are a cheat. The Don always said, ‘The game belongs to the cheaters.’”

I close her door and step away. Vittorio starts the car. It explodes.

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