“Of course I’m interested,” Izzie said.
“Two regulars in the game fell out. I told them you and Josh were good guys. You want in?”
“We’ll be right over,” Izzie said.
The back room of Finnegan’s was choking with cigarette smoke, the smell of stale beer fouling the air. Six guys sat at the table, all lousy card players. Two hours into the game, Izzie went to the bar for cigarettes, and found Betty pouring a draft beer.
“How about going across the street, and getting us sandwiches?”
“Same scam as before?” Betty asked.
“Yeah. Seymour’s outside in the car. Tell him we’re using red and blue Tally-Ho’s. Don’t forget which pocket of your apron to put them in.”
“I won’t, honey bun.”
Izzie gave her the sandwich order and went back to the game.
This time, the switch went the way it was supposed to, the deck not changing color when it came out of Betty’s apron. As Izzie dealt the cards, he wondered what his life would have been like if he hadn’t dumped Betty, and gone to Atlantic City. Maybe they’d be living in a house by now, and expecting a kid.
Seymour had stacked the deck for draw poker, nothing wild. Three of the suckers would get pat hands — two pair, a straight and a flush — while Izzie would get an unbeatable full house. Josh started the betting, and threw in a hundred dollars.
The sucker holding the pair called him, and raised the pot two hundred dollars.
The sucker holding the straight called him, and raised it five hundred.
The sucker holding the flush dug into his pocket. His name was Mike, and he was into his sixth beer. He called the raise, then threw all his money onto the table.
Izzie stared at the monster wad before him.
“Raise you eight grand,” Mike said drunkenly.
“Where’d you get all that money?” Izzie asked.
“I sold my car. Guy gave me cash,” Mike said.
Mike’s raise made the call eighty-eight hundred dollars. Izzie pulled out his bankroll; he had nine grand to his name. He threw the money in, and said, “And I’ll raise you two hundred bucks.”
Everyone at the table folded their hands except for Mike. He threw in two hundred more and waxed a loser’s smile.
“Let’s see what you got,” Mike said.
Izzie triumphantly flipped over his full house. Mike stared, then showed him his hand. He had four threes.
“I win,” he said.
Izzie felt his stomach tighten as Mike began stuffing the bills into his pockets. He played it all back — from the day he’d arrived in Nyack to find Betty waiting for him, to the phone call a few hours ago — and realized he’d been set up. Turning, he saw Betty standing in the doorway with a triumphant look on her face.
“Now we’re even,” she said.
Author Note
While this is a book of fiction, the scams which are described are not. They all were used by hustlers in Atlantic City during the period in which this book takes place, and many are still being used today.
