Black Cat Weekly #11

PLAYING BY THE RULES, by Hal Charles

PLAYING BY THE RULES,

by Hal Charles

Claire Dalton was sitting in on the biggest high-stakes poker game of her life. Even though the guys who had organized the session had been a little hesitant to invite a female to join their macho ranks, the wad of cash Claire had flashed was large enough to open the door.

Claire knew the other players by reputation. Paul Garrison, a high-roller who had built a reputation at the casinos around Las Vegas that had gotten him invites to the World Series of Poker several times.

Clark Cole, a successful businessman who had more skill at negotiating contracts than playing cards, but his seemingly limitless supply of money and good humor allowed him entrance into just about any game.

Jennings Mace, a college economics professor who showed up from time to time at casinos around the country. Poker seemed more of a hobby for him, causing Claire to be a little surprised that he was part of the group.

The three men were already there when Claire arrived at the fourth-floor hotel room they had reserved for the evening. The hotel had provided a round table and stocked the mini-bar with drinks and snacks. Claire knew that high-stakes games such as this one often ran into the wee hours of the morning.

Garrison produced a deck of cards, peeled off the hotel-imprinted cellophane, and placed it in the center of the table. “I guess we can get this party started.”

Claire felt the familiar rush as she collected the cards for the first hand. She never really played for the money. The competition was what brought the thrill. Nothing felt better than walking out the winner at the end of a game. And the more skillful the opponents, the sweeter the victory.

For the first hour or so, the games flowed smoothly, with one player winning a hand or two, then another. Claire was more than holding her own as the clock approached midnight. “A few more hands,” said Claire, “then I’m history.”

“Shall we make things a little more interesting then, Cinderella?” said Garrison. “Jacks or better to open and no limit on the pot.”

After Cole dealt the hand, the betting became intense. Claire watched as the pot grew into the thousands. Raise, see, call.

Finally only Claire and Mace remained. The betting had been so hot that Cole had even thrown in a gold Rolex to cover an early bet. This would be the final hand.

Just as Mace pushed his last stack of bills to the center of the table with a solemn “All in,” a shrill siren sounded in the hall.

“Fire!” yelled Cole as he pulled himself from the chair and bolted for the door.

Chaos erupted as the players scrambled to escape. Claire realized that danger trumped chivalry as the three men beat her out the door.

Later, as the four players filed back into the room, they found everything as they had left it—except the huge poker pot was missing.

When they had exited the room, they had scattered, so nobody knew for sure where any of the others had gone. Discovering the alarm was false, they had rushed back to the fourth floor.

“Well, I guess I won’t be taking in that new show tomorrow night,” said Cole.

“Who could have done this?” said a distraught Mace.

“Well, at least you won’t have to watch Cinderella rake in that huge pot,” said Garrison under his breath to Mace.

Claire picked up the phone and pushed a few keys. “Security? Please come to Room 433. There’s someone you need to take into custody.”

Solution

With Garrison’s condescending comment, Claire realized that the professional gambler had taken the pot. The only way he could know that she would win the hand was if he looked at her cards and Mace’s. Since she was the last out of the room, Garrison must have peeked at both hands when he re-entered the room to steal the money. Nabbed by security, he admitted that he had been on a losing streak and had planned the false alarm scam with his girlfriend. The police apprehended her with the cash and Cole’s Rolex. Too bad they hadn’t finished the hand; her flush would have beaten Mace’s two pairs. Garrison’s next game would be in the day room of the local lockup.

THIS WILL SLAY YOU,

by Dale Clark