Poker News

Poker Cop: A Poker Player Murder Mystery

When the last hand of the night was dealt the countdown clock on the bomb under the poker table read 0:05:01.

On the button in a $50/$100 no-limit hold’em game, I peel off the felt the worst possible poker hand, the [7d] [2h].

I look to my right and I check out the sitting ducks. Huey, Dewey, and Louie have all called.

Donald Duck’s $50 Big Blind. I call, as does Daffy Duck, in the Small Blind. The Flop is [8c] [3h] [Jd]. The Ducklings bet, raise, and re-raise. I call. Three bets cold. Daffy and Donald drop out.

The Turn is a [5d]. Huey checks, Dewey bets, Louie calls. I call. Huey then check raises. I join the callers. The River is [2c]. The hand is checked to Louie, who bets. I go all-in.

A couple of surprised looks later, the Ducks call my all-in bet.

Huey turns up Ajax. A Pair of Jacks with an Ace kicker. With my left hand over my cards, I take my right hand off the table.

Dewey shows down the Speed Limit. Pair of Fives. I put my right hand back over my cards and use the left to slide them back and forth.

Louie flips over Crabs. Triple Play.

I take my hands off my cards and show the table the Sixty-Four Dollar Question, the 6d 4s. I’ve switchedout while no one was looking.

“Straight to the eight,” says the Dealer, pushing the pot in my direction.

The Dead Money Ducks shake their heads at my dumb luck and mumble to themselves about my stupid play.

Life is good when you’re a cheat.

The bomb’s countdown clock wound down to 0:1:15. There are currently 139 names in the U.S. Gaming Commission’s List Of Excluded Persons-known to all gamblers as “The Black Book.” The list includes the names of multiple Slot Cheats, Chip Gyps, Card Counters, and Sports Fixers, but only one Card Thief.

My name is Jack Thayer and, according to The Black Book, I’m a liar and a cheat.

When you’re a Card Thief, these are your good qualities. I am persona non grata in the poker rooms of thirty-two states and nineteen Indian Nations. You would think this would put a limit on my hold’em playing. Yet I play Texas hold-up every day of every week in underground clubs.

Tonight is no different. The All Inn, a five table underground card room in the back of a blue collarbar, offers $3 whiskey, $20 lap dances, and $50/$100 no-limit hold’em.

I wasn’t there for the bellywash or the G-string swing.

I stand up to leave the duck shoot.

“Wait!” says Daffy, “I’m sure I folded a pair of black fours!”

“You know,” says Donald, “I’m sure I folded an [Ad][6d].” I take one step back. Huey, Dewey, and Louie eye me suspiciously.

Daffy says, “Let’s check the muck.”

“Good idea!” says Donald. I take a second step back. The Ugly Ducklings stand up. They now look like Mighty Mad Ducks. I watch their eyes.

Donald yells, “Here it is! I’ve found the 6d! Look!” As they all look at the red six, I quickly back out of the emergency exit and slam the door behind me.

The bomb’s countdown clock ticks down :00. The explosion blows the door off its hinges and me off my feet. My last con-scious thought is that we’re all dead ducks.

(To be continued in the next issueof Poker Player)

Filed under: Poker News