Deadman's Bluff by James Swain Page A

to see. Earpieces had been used to cheat card games for years, with someone on the outside secretly reading everyone’s hands, and passing the information to the cheater via a radio transmitter. But that scam was easy to detect. If an RF detector was pointed at the table during the transmission, the detector would pick up the radio frequency, and the cheater would be exposed. Nearly every casino and poker room in the world used RF detectors for this purpose.
    But the scam his uncle had given DeMarco to cheat the World Poker Showdown was different. For starters, there was no outside person reading the other players’ cards. And, if an RF detector was pointed at the table, the machine would hardly register, and the operator would think it was someone’s cell phone. But the best part was that there was no evidence. The cards were clean, and so was everything else.
    There was only one bad part about the scam. DeMarco didn’t know how his opponent’s cards were being read. It was a creepy feeling to hear clicks in his ear, and not know who was sending them, and several times he’d asked his uncle to explain the secret. Each time, his uncle had placed his hand on his nephew’s shoulder and promised to tell him after he won the tournament.
     
    Scalzo watched his nephew finish getting dressed, then looked at his watch. “Let’s go downstairs. They’re going to start playing soon.”
    “I need to brush my teeth and comb my hair,” his nephew replied, heading toward the bathroom.
    “Your hair looks fine, and no one’s going to smell your breath.”
    “Come on, Uncle George. Appearances are important.”
    “Didn’t you hear what I said? You look fine.”
    “It won’t take two minutes. Is that so much to ask?”
    The bathroom door closed before Scalzo could reply. His nephew was letting all the attention go to his head. Scalzo had adopted Skipper twenty years ago, expecting the boy to grow up to be like him. Instead, Skipper had turned into a big peacock.
    Scalzo went into the next room, slamming the door behind him. He spied Karl Jasper standing in the center of the living room, talking with Guido. It was the second time in two days that Jasper had come to Scalzo’s suite without being asked.
    Guido hurried over to his boss.
    “What the fuck is he doing here?” Scalzo asked under his breath.
    “He demanded that I let him in,” Guido said.
    “He demanded?”
    “Yeah. I figured it was important. You want, I’ll throw him out.”
    Guido’s job didn’t involve making decisions. Going to the boss was the
only
right decision for Guido to make. Reaching down, Scalzo grabbed his bodyguard by the balls, and gave them a healthy squeeze. Guido’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
    “Don’t ever do something without asking me first,” Scalzo said.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “
Never
do something without asking me first,” he said, as if clarification were needed.
    “Yes, sir.”
    Scalzo released his death grip, and Guido slunk away. Then he walked up to Jasper. Jasper had been watching them, and his face had turned a sickly white.
    “What the fuck do you want?” Scalzo said.
    “We need to talk,” Jasper said.
    “About what?”
    “About what happened last night with Valentine.”
    Scalzo pointed at the glass slider that led to a narrow balcony with a view of the desert. Only high-roller suites had windows that actually opened in Las Vegas hotels; everyone else was a prisoner of their room.
    “Out there,” Scalzo said.
    Jasper opened the slider and let Scalzo go first.
Showing some respect,
Scalzo thought. They both went outside.
    “What happened last night?” Jasper asked, closing the slider behind him.
    Scalzo grasped the balcony’s metal railing and stared at the mountains. He hated when people questioned him, hated it more when he had to answer. The mountains seemed close, and he tried to guess their distance.
    “We had a problem,” he said quietly.
    Jasper edged up beside him, bumping shoulders, his