Waltz Into Darkness (43 page)

"With
us, it seems to dash!" she exclaimed bitterly. "I never saw
the like." It was now she who had sought the window, was seeking
out that distant, faltering star of their fortunes, up beyond
somewhere, that he had been scanning earlier. There for only the two
of them, and no one else, to see. "Does that mean New Orleans
again ?"

They
had grown so, they could understand one another almost without words,
certainly without the fully explicit rounded phrase.

"There's
no more New Orleans; that's done. There's nothing left there any
longer to go back for."

They
had even grown alike in mannerisms. It was now she who gnawed at her
underlip. "How much have we?"

"Two
hundred and some," he answered without lifting his head.

She
came close to him and put her hand to the outside of his arm, as if
she wished to attract his attention; although she had it in full
already.

"There
are two things can be done," she said. "We can either sit
and do nothing with it, until it is all gone. Or we can take it and
set it to work for us."

He
simply looked up at her; this time there was a flaw in their mutual
understanding, a blind spot.

"I
have known many men with less than two hundred for a stake to run it
up to two or three thousand."

She
kept her hand on his arm, as if the thought were entering by there in
some way, and not by word of mouth. It still failed to.

"Do
you know any card games?" she persisted.

"There
was one I used to play with Jardine in our younger days, of an
evening. Bezique, I think.. I scarcely remem--"

"I
mean real games," she interrupted impatiently.

He
understood her, then.

"You
mean gamble with it? Risk it?"

She
shook her head, more impatient than ever. "Only fools gamble
with it. Only fools risk it. I'll show you how to play so that
you're sure of running up your two hundred."

He
saw what she really meant, then.

"Cheat,"
he said tonelessly.

She
flung her head away from him, then brought it back again.

"Don't
be so sanctimonious about it. Cheat is just a word. Why use that
particular one? There are plenty of others just as good. 'Prepare'
yourself. 'Insure' against losing. Why leave everything to chance?
Chance is a harlot."

She
stepped away, caught at the back of a chair, began dragging it
temptingly after her, at a slant.

"Come,
sit down. I'll teach you the game itself first."

She
was a good teacher. In an hour he knew it sufficiently well.

"You
now know faro," she said. "You know it as well as I or
anyone else can show it to you. Now I'll teach you the really
important part. I must put on some things first."

He
sat there idly fingering the cards while she was gone. She came back
decked with all her jewelry, as she would have worn it of any
evening. It looked grotesque, overlaying the household deshabille she
wore.

She
sat down before him, and something made his hand shake a little. As
does a hand that is about to commit something heinous.

"There
are four suits, mark them well," she said briskly. "I will
not be sitting in the game with you, they do not play with women, and
everything depends upon the quick coordination between us, you and
me. Yet on the river boats it never failed, and so it should not fail
here. It is the simplest system of all, and the most easily
discovered, but we must use it, for your own fingers are not yet deft
enough at rigging a deal, and so you must rely on me and not yourself
to see you through the tight places. We will use it sparingly, saving
it each time for the moment that counts the most. Now, mark. When my
hand strays to my bosom so, that's hearts. The pendant at my throat,
that's diamonds. The eardrop on the left, spades. The one on the
right, clubs. Then you watch my hand as it goes down again, that
gives you the count. The fingers are numbered from one to ten,
starting at the outside of the left hand. The little finger of the
left hand is one, the little finger of the right, ten. Whichever one
I fold back, or only shorten a little, gives the count."

"How
does that tell me when he's holding jacks, queens or kings?"

"They
follow in regular order, eleven, twelve, thirteen. A king would be a
folding-back of the little finger on the left hand and of the third
finger on the left hand. An ace is simply one."

"How
can you hope to see every card he holds in his hand, and signal me?"

"I
can't and I don't try. One or two of the top cards are all you need,
and those are all I give you."

She
thrust the deck toward him over the tabletop.

"Deal
me a hand."

She
arranged it.

"Now
tell me what I am holding in my hand."

He
watched her.

"Your
top cards are the queen of diamonds, knave of hearts, ace of clubs."

He
got no praise.

"You
stared at me so, a blind man could have seen what you were about. You
play this with your face, as well as with your fingers; learn that.
Now again."

He
told her again.

"Better,
but you are too slow. They won't wait for you, while you sit there
summing up in your mind. Now another."

Her
only praise was a nod. "Once more."

This
time, at last, she conceded: "You are not stupid, Louis."

He
threw the cards aside suddenly.

"I
can't do this, Bonny."

She
gave him a scathing look.

"Why?
Are you too good? Does it soil you?"

He
dropped his eyes before hers, ran desperate fingers through his hair.

"You
killed a man once in Mobile, if I remember!" she accused him.
"But you cannot sharpen up a card game a little. No, you're too
goody-goody."

"That
was different somehow--" (And why do you throw that up to me,
anyhow? he thought.)

"If
there's anything that sickens me, it's a saintly man. You should be
wearing your collar back-to-front. Very well. We'll say no more about
it. Sit and nurse your two hundred until it is all gone." She
flung her chair angrily over to one side, while she rose from it.

He
watched her stride to the door, and pluck the knob, and swing the
door back to go out.

"You
want me to do this very much?" he said. "That much?"

She
stopped and turned to look at him. "It is to your advantage, not
mine. I was only trying to help you. I gain nothing by it. I can
always make out. I have before, and I can again."

Louder
than all the rest, he heard in it the one word she had not spoken:
alone.

"I'll
do it for you, Bonny," he said limply. "I'll do it for
you."

She
dropped her eyes a moment complacently. She came back and sat down.
Her face slowly smoothed out. She bent to her tutoring attentively.
"Now what am I holding?"

58

How
she found out about the place he never knew. He would never have
guessed it existed. She seemed to have a nose for scenting such
places from a mile off.

It
was on the second floor, up a stair that occasionally someone would
come down but no one was ever seen to go up. Below it was just a
restaurant and wining place. They'd been there before once or twice
in their nightly rounds of pleasure, and not finding it very
entertaining, soon left again. If she'd detected anything then, she'd
said nothing about it to him at the time.

They
came there now, the two hundred secreted on his person, and first
took seats below, just the two of them, close to the stairs, over two
glasses of Burgundy.

"Are
you sure?" he kept asking her in a doubtful undertone.

She
gave him a deft little frown of affirmation. "I know. I can
tell. I saw the look on one or two faces as they came down those
stairs the other night. I have seen those looks on faces before. The
face too white, the eyes too bright and feverish." She patted
his knee below the table. "Be patient. Do as I told you when the
time comes."

They
sat for a while, she inscrutable, he uneasy.

"Now,"
she said finally.

He
beckoned the waiter. "The check, please." He took out the
entire two hundred dollars, allowed him to see it, while he selected
a bill for payment. She, meanwhile, elaborately stifled a yawn. He
turned his head to the waiter. "It's dull here. Can't you offer
anything--a little more interesting ?"

The
waiter went to the manager and spoke in a corner behind the back of
his hand. The manager came over in turn, leaned confidentially across
the back of Durand's chair.

"Anything
I can do, sir ?"

"Can't
you offer us anything a little more exciting than this?"

"If
you were alone, sir, I'd suggest--"

"Suggest
it anyway," Durand encouraged him.

"There
are some gentlemen upstairs-- You understand me?"

"Perfectly,"
said Durand. "I wish I had known sooner. Come, my dear."

"The
lady too?" the manager asked dubiously.

"I
am very well behaved," she simpered. "I will be quiet as a
mouse. No one will know that I am there."

"Tell
them Mr. Bradford sent you from below. We do not like too much
attention called to it. It is just for the diversion of a few of our
steady customers."

They
went up together at a propitious moment, when no one seemed to be
watching. Durand knocked at a large double door, behind which a buzz
of conversation sounded. A man opened it and looked out at them,
holding it so that they could not see within.

"Mr.
Bradford sent us from below."

"We
don't allow ladies in here, sir."

She
smiled her most dazzling smile. Her eyes looked into his. Her hand
even came to rest upon his forearm for a moment. "There are
exceptions to every rule. Surely you are not going to keep me out?
I should be so lonely without him."

"But
the gentlemen's conversation may--"

She
pinched his chin playfully. "There, there. I have heard my
husband swear before; it will not shock me."

"Just
a moment."

He
closed the door; reopened it in a moment to offer her a black velvet
eye-mask. "Perhaps you would be more comfortable with this."

She
gave Durand a satiric side look, as if to say "Isn't he naïve?"
but put it on nevertheless.

The
man stood aside, to hold back the door for them.

"Need
you have been so coquettish ?" Durand said to her in a rapid
aside.

"It
got me in, didn't it?"

Her
entrance created a sensation. He had seen her attract attention
wherever they went, but never anything comparable to this. The buzz
of conversation stilled into a dead silence. The play even stopped
short at several of the tables. One or two of the men reached
falteringly behind them, as if to draw on their coats, though they
did not complete the intention.

She
said something behind her hand to their host, who announced in a
clear voice: "The lady wishes you to forget that she is here,
gentlemen. She simply enjoys watching card games."

She
bowed her head demurely, in a feigned sort of modesty, and went on,
her arm linked to Durand's.

Their
guide introduced him at one of the tables, after having first
obtained his name, and the willingness of the other players to accept
him. "Mr. Castle--Mr. Anderson, Mr. Hoffman, Mr. Steeves."

Bonny
was not introduced, propriety in this case dictating that she be
omitted.

"Champagne
for the gentlemen," Durand immediately ordered, as soon as he
had taken seat.