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ace-high straight." The old man stared at his cards and nodded, dazed beyond
speech.
I gazed noncommittally at George and cleared my throat. "Ace-high straight
beats three queens." I said it in as friendly a manner as possible. Just a
helpful bystander. I could predict what was probably coming next.
George looked at me with eyes the color of muddy water.
"He didn't call his cards."
"He doesn't have to," I said. "The cards speak for themselves."
We shared one of those instants frozen in time that last forever and end in a
heartbeat. His right hand fidgeted again. He shoved the chips away.
"Take `em," he muttered. He said nothing while shuffling for the next deal.
Stud again.
This time, Ann was ace-high on the first round. "The pair of aces opens," she
said with a sweet smile. Maybe they believed her, maybe they didn't. Poker was
as much the art of lying as was politics. Any dame that could handle something
as cutthroat as a table full of men ready to rip out and devour one another's
livers was a dame worth knowing.
On the second round of face cards, two of the Sicilians raised. The gaunt old
man folded, stood gracefully, and headed for the bar. The fat man scratched at
his nose, frowned, and threw in some chips to see the bets.
George looked at his cards. After pondering for all of a few seconds, he
raised. I almost felt sorry for him.
Ann called, saying, "Okay, so I lied." She looked so troubled, I wondered what
cards she did have.
The third round revealed no pairs among the exposed cards.
"Check," Ann said.
The three foreigners folded and began talking to each other.
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The fat man checked, too.
George gritted his teeth and made his bet. High.
The courtly old gent returned from the bar, shaking his head at the younger
man's desperation.
Ann raised him. Higher. "Maybe I don't have aces, gentlemen"her voice drawled
lazily-"but I've got something just as nice." She just let the sentence hang
there, like lingerie on a breezeless clothesline.
The fat man scanned the cards displayed. He pursed his lips to blow through
them like a horse. His cards slid toward the center of the table.
"I believe prudence forces me to fold." He inclined his head to the gold and
emerald figure to his right. "You may have him, my dear. I think I've taken
enough out of him, as you have out of me."
Ann politely acknowledged his words, then turned back to the game.
George dabbed at droplets of sweat gathering on his chin. I sidled over to
him, reaching around him to snuff my cigarette in an overflowing ashtray at
his elbow.
"I'd suggest folding," I offered softly. "It'll fool her into thinking you
know what you're doing."
"I don't need-I can't. It's-" He breathed the stuffy air in short, frantic
gasps.
Some people shouldn't play poker.
He raised his opponent by an idiotically astronomical amount. The crowd
gasped.
"What a mark," somebody whispered.
Ann languidly threw in her chips. "Call." She had nothing to do but wait for
the kill.
George dealt the final two cards. A deuce of clubs slid over to her side to
join the ace of hearts, five of spades and nine of diamonds.
He dealt himself a queen of spades next to his king, ten, and five of
diamonds.
Ann's lips pouted in disappointment. She looked again at her hole card,
letting her shoulders drop. "Check," she said, listless as wet newsprint.
Lights seemed to flick on in George's eyes. He looked at the chips between
them-enough to purchase several Central American countries. He calculated
madly. Nervous hands shoved the remaining pile of chips forward.
Ann stared emptily until George had withdrawn his hands. A grin spread across
her face. She added the last of her own chips to the stunningly huge mound
between them.
"And I raise you." The words didn't come out as a slap in the face, but the
young man reacted as if he'd been socked. She had him pegged from the start.
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I was pretty sure what their hole cards were now. Ann must have figured his
out a few rounds back.
George bowed his head to stare at the table.
"I can write you a check."
The gaunt old man bent over him to say, "You know the rules, my friend. No
checks or notes. No lending."
It saved me from having to say it.
Ann straightened in her chair, making no sound. Her face had become as rigid
as a stone carving. She gazed at George with wintry eyes and waited.
"I-" He glanced pleadingly around to the crowd. His gaze fell on Ann. "I have
some shares. In my name. A controlling interest." He pulled some papers from
inside his jacket.
I frowned. Had he been expecting to need them? Make that a reckless
plunger-doubled and squared.
"A third of it should meet the raise."
Ann glanced at the shares with a disdainful look. "Oh, all right. You'll
probably win them back anyway."
That, I thought, was unnecessarily cruel. The young man's eyes blazed like oil
burning on a polluted lake. He threw in five of the folded blue sheets.
"I call." He reached to turn over his hole card.
"See you and raise."
Their gazes locked like handcuffs. The crowd stood like a statue garden, their
only similarity their stillness. Their expressions ranged from disapproval to
glee to shock.
The only one not frozen was George. He began to shake. His gaze fell to the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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