Eureka (5 page)

Spectators began to filter into the room and fill the gallery.

Eli Gorman arrived two minutes before the hour. He was dressed in a dark blue suit. A gold watch chain draped between the vest pockets on either side of his chest. He was carrying a black leather doctor's satchel. He shook hands with Tallman and placed the satchel on the table.

His chair was below the boys. He sat with his back to them, but Brodie checked his position with the opera glasses. They would be able to see his hand over his right shoulder.

Gorman took out a thick packet of land deeds tied with twine and laid them next to the decks of cards. Then he took out a packet of ten-, twenty-, and hundred-dollar bills, stacked them in individual stacks, and counted out ten thousand dollars.

O'Dell was five minutes late, dressed in a garish light blue suit, an open-collared checked shirt, and a gray derby, which he hooked over the arm of his chair. His goods were in a small leather suitcase. He put his deeds on the opposite end of the line of cards from Gorman's. He counted out ten thousand dollars in tens and hundreds.

Hennessey poured each of them a glass of water. O'Dell ordered a glass of Irish whiskey. Gorman shook his head when Hennessey looked at him. The bartender vanished into the darkened room.

Twenty thousand dollars lay on the table.

Tallman said, “Gentlemen, the game is poker. I will deal for each of you. Five- and seven-card stud and three-card draw, no wild cards. In straights and flushes, high card wins. If it's a push, the pot will carry over to the next game. The ante is ten dollars. The limit is table stakes, the minimum bet will be ten dollars. The first player who can't call a bet is out. Winner takes all, the deeds and twenty thousand dollars. Either player may ask for a new deck at any time. If so, the deal goes to the other player. I will flip a coin and the caller will select the first deck. Then you will draw a card for the first deal. We will take a fifteen-minute break whenever any of us requests it. Any questions?”

There were none.

Ben leaned close to Brodie's ear. “What's table stakes?” he whispered.

“Means you can bet whatever's in the pot.”

Tallman said, “Then we'll begin. Shake hands, gentlemen.”

“Forget it,” said O'Dell.

Gorman looked at Tallman and shrugged. He took his pince-nez from a vest pocket and set it near the end of his nose. Tallman took out a silver dollar and flipped it.

“Heads,” O'Dell snapped. The coin landed on the table, spun around, and came up tails. Gorman selected a deck and Tallman broke open the seal, took out the jokers, dropped them in the saddlebag. He swept the cards around the table, mixing them up, and splayed the deck out between the two players. Gorman pulled an eight, O'Dell turned a jack.

“Your game, Mr. O'Dell.”

“Five stud,” O'Dell said, in a high-pitched tenor voice that was a sharp contrast to the voices of Tallman and Gorman.

“Ante up,” said the dealer. O'Dell threw a ten-dollar bill in the center of the table and Gorman covered it.

“The game is five-card stud,” Tallman said. He shuffled and arched the cards together several times. He lay the deck in front of O'Dell, who cut them.

Tallman dealt the first card to Gorman. Both got one card down and one up. Eli lifted the corner of his hole card, let it snap back. A six of hearts.

Gorman drew a four of clubs. O'Dell, a seven of diamonds.

“Seven bets. The limit is twenty.”

O'Dell bet twenty dollars. Gorman called.

Sixty dollars in the pot.

Second up card: O'Dell, a queen of diamonds, Gorman, a nine of hearts.

Tallman: “Queen bets. The limit is sixty.”

O'Dell bet the limit again. Once again Gorman called.

A hundred and eighty dollars in the pot.

Third card: O'Dell, a seven of clubs. Gorman, a two of spades.

O'Dell had the lead with a pair of sevens. Gorman had a nine high. One card to go.

Gorman's expression never changed as he stared over his glasses with his heavy-lidded eyes, glanced back at his card and stared back at O'Dell.

At this point, O'Dell's open hand was a winner. The only way Gorman could win was if he paired his nine on the last card and O'Dell didn't help his sevens. O'Dell sneaked a peek at his hole card. Gorman just stared at him, studying his expression, his eyes, any tics he might discern. O'Dell's hole card could triple his sevens or pair either of his other three cards for two pair. The odds were strongly in O'Dell's favor.

Tallman: “The limit is one-eighty.”

O'Dell shot the wad. Gorman folded and O'Dell pulled the bills and piled them loosely beside his left elbow. Gorman had lost ninety dollars on the first hand.

The game went on. Hennessey moved quietly, like a ghost, filling drinks.

The winning hands went back and forth. Brodie kept the opera glasses on Eli's hand and watched with surprise when Eli folded a winning hand of five-card stud, folded again when his down card gave him a straight to O'Dell's three of a kind. In one seven-card game, Eli had a well-hidden flush, O'Dell obviously had three of a kind. Eli called O'Dell with a large bet, then folded the winning hand.

Cigars and cigarettes glowed in the dark. Smoke curled upward, lured by the heat of the chandelier. The game went on. In a five-card draw hand, Eli drew one card to a four-card heart flush and caught the fifth heart. O'Dell drew two cards. He bet two hundred dollars and Eli called him. O'Dell had three kings.

“Beats,” Eli said, and threw away the winning flush.

Brodie was astounded.
What kind of bluff was he playing?

When the pot was high, Eli was purposely losing every bluff he tried. Brodie was confused.
What was the art of the bluff Mr. Eli had talked about—throwing away winning hands?

At 10:15, Eli called for a break.

“The old man must be gettin' tired,” O'Dell whined in his high voice as he headed toward the bar with most of the gallery. Eli stood up and stretched and worked the kinks out of his shoulders and neck. Buck Tallman intertwined his fingers and snapped them, then shook them out.

“How do you feel?” Tallman asked.

“Just fine.”

“Maybe the cards'll start falling a little better.”

“The cards are falling just fine,” Eli answered.

“The way I figure, you're down about two thousand.”

“The night's young.”

At 10:30, Tallman announced, “Let's play cards.”

O'Dell strolled back to his seat. Eli was already seated.

“You got any objections to raising the ante to twenty bucks?” O'Dell said, looking at Tallman.

“Mr. Gorman?” he asked.

Eli shrugged and said, “Why not make it a hundred?”

There was an audible reaction from the gallery. Tallman tried to control his surprise. O'Dell snickered. “What's the matter, Gorman, you so tired you wanna go home early?”

“Do I take that as a ‘yes'?” Tallman said.

“Hell, yeah,” O'Dell said and threw a hundred-dollar bill in the pot, which Gorman covered. Since Gorman had called for a new deck, it was O'Dell's game.

“Mr. O'Dell, your call.”

“Draw poker.”

“The game is draw poker,” said Tallman, and dealt each man five cards down.

O'Dell picked up his hand, squeezed the five cards out. He had three eights, and a ten and six of mixed suits.

Eli watched his reaction while slowly shuffling his hand by slipping the top card under the bottom one. Then he looked. He had three kings, a five, and an ace of hearts.

“The limit is two hundred dollars,” said Tallman. “Cards?”

O'Dell bet the two hundred and Gorman called.

“The limit is six hundred. Cards, gentlemen?”

O'Dell took two cards.

So,
thought Gorman,
he, too, had triples or a pair and was holding an ace kicker.
Gorman only took one. He held the kings and the ace, hoping O'Dell would figure him for two pair or four cards to a straight or flush.

“Goin' for that inside straight again?” O'Dell bit. He chided, “Don'tcha ever learn?”

He looked at his two new cards. He had not helped. His best hand was triple eights.

Gorman watched him closely, looking for anything, a tic, a flinch, a hint of a smile. O'Dell licked his lips, took a sip of whiskey.

“Mr. O'Dell, the limit is six hundred,” said Tallman.

O'Dell thought:
Got him. Didn't help his two pair or fill his straight or flush.

“Bet a hundred,” said O'Dell.

“The limit is seven hundred.”

“Two hundred back at you,” said Eli.

It caught O'Dell flat-footed. He sat for a moment.
Gorman figures me for the opening pair. He probably had two pair going in so he figures even if I paired my openers he's got me beat.

“The pot is nine hundred dollars.”

Gorman had tried bluffing too many times before.

“Call,” O'Dell said.

Gorman laid his hand down and spread out three kings.

O'Dell's eyes narrowed and his face reddened, but he said nothing. His three eights were beat. He threw in his hand.

“Three kings wins a thousand dollars,” said Tallman.

Now Eli had O'Dell's holdings down to sixty-nine hundred; Gorman had sixty-seven hundred. A mere two hundred dollars separated them.

“I'd like a new deck,” Eli said again.

Tallman held the old deck between two hands and tore it in half, dropping the pieces in the saddlebags. He opened a new deck, mixed and shuffled them.

“The game returns to Mr. O'Dell,” he said.

With the right hand and the right timing, Eli could take O'Dell. O'Dell, playing arrogantly, had not counted his money. It lay in a loose pile by his elbow. But Eli knew. He had been counting both his money
and
O'Dell's. Now Eli had to play cautiously. The stakes were getting so high, if either of them made a mistake it could cost them the game, the stakes, and the valley.

O'Dell called seven-card stud.

Tallman: “The game is seven-card stud.”

The players anted up a hundred apiece.

“The limit is two hundred. Cards to the players.”

He dealt two cards facedown to the players. O'Dell lifted the corners of his two cards. An ace of spades and a jack of hearts. Gorman peeked at his two cards, but Brodie could not see them well enough to read them.

Tallman dealt each a face card.

O'Dell: jack of spades.

Gorman: four of diamonds.

“Jack bets,” said Tallman.

O'Dell bet two hundred. Gorman called the bet.

Tallman: “The pot limit is now six hundred.”

He dealt the second cards up.

O'Dell: three of hearts. “Jack, three,” said Tallman.

Gorman: jack of clubs. Tallman: “Jack, four. Jack, four bets.”

Gorman studied the cards.

“Check,” he said.

O'Dell bet a hundred dollars. Gorman called the bet.

Tallman: “The limit is eight hundred.”

O'Dell: jack of hearts. “A pair of jacks and a club three,” Tallman said.

Gorman: three of hearts. “Heart jack, diamond four, a heart three. The pair bets.”

O'Dell's tongue lashed at his lower lip. He started pulling hundreds from his pile.

“Eight hundred,” O'Dell snapped.

In the darkness, there was a sudden spate of whispered chatter.

“Quiet please, gentlemen,” Tallman admonished softly. “The bet is eight hundred. Pot limit is sixteen hundred dollars.”

Gorman studied his three face cards: jack, four of diamonds, three of hearts. He stared across the table at O'Dell, who was wearing what could pass for a smile.

“Call the sixteen hundred,” Gorman said.

Tallman sighed. “The limit is thirty-two hundred. Cards to the players.”

He dealt the last face card to O'Dell: an ace of spades. “A pair of jacks, three, and the ace of spades,” said Tallman.

Gorman caught a four of diamonds. “Two of diamonds, jack of hearts, three of hearts, four of diamonds. Three cards to a straight.” He looked at Gorman, who was expressionless.

“The pair still bets. The limit stands at twenty-four hundred,” Tallman said.

O'Dell said, “I'll make it easy on you, old man.” He counted out twenty hundred-dollar bills and dropped them in the pot.

“The bet is two thousand,” Tallman said. He looked at Gorman, who was staring at O'Dell. “Two thousand buys you the last card. The pot stands at forty-four hundred
.
”

Gorman hesitated. Was this a sucker bet to keep him in? Why would O'Dell make a soft bet? He studied O'Dell's hand. A pair of jacks, an ace, and an eight. Possibilities? Three jacks or three aces. He had the cased jack of clubs and a cased ace. Either a pair of eights or a hidden pair in the hole. Unless all three of his hole cards were eights, he could not have four of a kind. Odds for a straight or flush were zero. A full house was the best hand he could have. With a pair of jacks showing, Gorman figured O'Dell had either two pair, jacks and possibly aces, or a jack high full house.

Eli would know after the last down card was dealt. If he had a full house he would check, gambling that O'Dell would bet, and O'Dell could raise him out of the game.

At this point, a full house, four of a kind, or a straight flush could beat Gorman.

Gorman called the two-thousand-dollar bet.

“The pot limit is sixty-four hundred dollars.”

An audible gasp from the darkened gallery. Hennessey brought Tallman a fresh cup of coffee, his sixth of the night, and he took a breath and a sip.

The last card.

Gorman watched O'Dell take a quick, cursory look at his down card, which told Gorman that O'Dell had his full house, probably jacks and a pair of aces or eights.

Gorman bent his hole card up, looked at it, and let it snap back on the felt.