One more to go, Larry said encouragingly. Come on, Earl, you can do it.
Earl returned to the blue line and took a moderate step backward. His beer was sitting on the corner of the pool table. He stared at it, then shook his head like he wanted to have nothing to do with it. He lined up his shot and let the dart fly. It flew over the board and hit a poster of a bikini-clad Farrah Fawcett squarely in her navel.
God damn! Earl screamed.
Let me have a try, Larry said.
Ten minutes later, Valentine and Rufus left the bar with most of Larrys and Earls money. The suckers had not gone quietly, and were demanding a rematch on the golf course. Rufus had politely declined and bid them good night.
I thought you were good at golf, Valentine said.
Only when the price is right, Rufus replied.
On the elevator ride to their room, Valentine finally broke down and asked Rufus to explain how hed managed the dart trick.
Aint no trick, Rufus said, smothering a yawn.
You didnt put something in their drinks?
Naw.
Then how does it work?
Throwing a dart is harder than you think, Rufus explained. Even the best players have to take a few practice throws before they play. The arms muscles have a memory, and it takes a while for the memory to kick in. By changing the distance for each throw, the muscles in the throwers arm get confused, and the darts miss the target.
You made it look easy when you threw the darts.
That comes from years of practice and self-denial.
The elevator reached their floor and they got out. Valentine took the Silly Putty and paper clip from his pocket, and stared at them while walking down the hallway to his suite.
That bugs still bothering you, huh? Rufus said.
It sure is, Valentine said.
Sort of makes you wonder what kind of tournament theyre running.
How do you mean?
First DeMarco cheats me, and now this.
Valentine was tired, and the old cowboys words were slow to sink in. The World Poker Showdown had already had one allegation of cheating, and the tournament should have gone out of its way to ensure that no more took place. Yet more cheating was taking place, and he had the evidence right in his hand. He stopped at the door to his suite and fitted the plastic key into the lock. Then he looked Rufus square in the eye.
You think the people running the tournament are crooked, dont you?
Rufus nodded grimly. Cheaters dont like to expose other cheaters.
It makes them uneasy.
It that why the tournament isnt regulating itself?
That would be my guess.
The light on the lock flashed green. Valentine removed the key and pushed the door open. He could hear his bed calling to him, but it wasnt as loud as his conscience.
Then I guess Ill just have to shut the tournament down, he said.
10
As Kenny the Clown Abruzzi walked up to the car, Davis reached into his sports jacket and drew a .40 mini-Glock, the same gun Gerrys father had carried up until the day hed retired from the Atlantic City Police Department.
Get ready to hit the floor, Davis said.
Gerry stiffened. Ballys unfriendly neon sign offered enough light to let him see Abruzzis face. The guy looked lost.
I think he wants to ask us something, Gerry said.
With a gun in his hand?
I think its a flashlight.
Your vision that good?
Twenty/twenty.
The flashlight in Abruzzis hand came on, proving Gerry right. It shone a sharp beam of light onto a piece of paper in his other hand that looked like directions. Davis slipped the Glock back into his shoulder harness, then rolled down his window.
Abruzzi flashed a sheepish grin. For a big guy, his face was small, with a hawk nose, smallish eyes, and dark hair slicked back on both sides. He held the instructions up to Daviss open window, the familiar MapQuest symbol at the top of the page.
Hey buddy, can you help me? Abruzzi asked. I think Im lost. Im looking for a Days Inn.
Davis looked at the instructions while watching Abruzzi, then pointed out his window. The Days Inn is five-and-a-half miles south on Atlantic Avenue. Hang a left, and go straight. You cant miss it.
Abruzzi said thanks, then hustled back to the Audi and climbed in. Gerry sensed he had made Davis as an undercover cop, and was going to run. Davis guessed the same thing, and redrew his Glock while opening his car door.
You going to arrest him? Gerry asked.
I will if I find a police scanner in his car, Davis replied.
What can I do, besides stay out of your way?
Davis had one foot on the macadam, and he turned to look at him. Get behind the wheel. When I go up to Abruzzis car, Ill give you a sign. Turn the headlights on so I can see what Im dealing with.
Sounds like a plan, Gerry said.
Davis got out and silently shut the door.
Gerry climbed across the front seats. Growing up a cops son, he knew that there was a science to handling a bust. If the bust was to go right, the first few seconds of the suspect learning his freedom was about to be taken away were critical. Anything could happen if the arresting officer didnt handle the suspect properly. Gerry got behind the wheel and found the switch for the headlights.