Mr. Lucky

38

Sweet dreams,” Isabelle said into the phone.

They were in the kitchen of her house, Gerry drinking a cup of decaf at the kitchen table, Clarkson in the other room watching ESPN, two cruisers parked outside on the street. Isabelle blew a kiss into the phone and hung up. To Gerry she said, “Want a refill?”

“That would be great,” he said.

She joined him at the table, and he saw the glimmer of a tear in her eye. He remembered the first time his father had gotten shot and how his mother had reacted. It was like someone had invisibly torn her in half.

“Lamar wants to know if you’ve spent the money you won off him,” she said.

“I haven’t had time.”

“I think he was joking,” she said, spooning sugar into her cup.

Clarkson let out a yell. Gerry looked into the next room and saw the detective throw his arms into the air as his team scored. It was nice to see he had his priorities straight.

“Lamar really likes his job, doesn’t he?” Gerry said.

“Loves it,” Isabelle said.

“This won’t slow him down?”

She shook her head. “I think he saw it as another badge. Not one he wanted, but one he’d wear if it happened.”

“What kind of badge?”

She glanced at the living room, not wanting Clarkson to hear her. She had a sultry look that was in her genes. Part French and who knew what else. In a soft voice she answered him. “When Lamar was sixteen, he went into a convenience store in Gulfport to buy a loaf of bread and some milk and got himself arrested. Spent a whole night in jail. Got thrown in a holding cell with a bunch of hard cases. They scared the shit out of him. Worst experience of his life, to hear him tell it.”

“What did he do?”

“I told you. He bought a loaf of bread and some milk.”

Gerry felt like she was baiting him. He tried to imagine a scenario where a sixteen-year-old black kid could innocently enter a store and get arrested, and came up with air.

“Was it a case of mistaken identity?”

Isabelle shook her head. “It was nine-fifty in the evening. The store closed at ten.”

He chewed on the information for a little bit.

“Was the store in a bad part of town?”

“Yes. The store owner had been robbed several times. It always happened when he was closing up. That’s when there was the most money in the till. He saw Lamar and thought he was getting robbed again, so he pressed a buzzer beneath the counter and called the cops. And all because Lamar was big and black.”

Gerry said, “Is that why he went into law enforcement?”

“Yes. The first day on the job with the Casino Commission, you know what he did?”

“No.”

“He went back to that convenience store and had a chat with the manager.”

Isabelle’s cell phone rang. It was down inside her pocketbook and sounded like a tiny bird trying to escape. She dug the phone out and stared at the caller ID.

“Speak of the devil.”

She said hello to her husband, then went silent for a moment. She handed the phone across the kitchen table to her guest. “He wants to speak with you. Says it’s urgent.”

Clarkson drove Gerry to Gulfport Memorial Hospital. One cruiser led the way, while another followed them. Clarkson said it was risky going out, but Gerry didn’t care. He was not one to ignore a dying man’s request. They went inside and were met by a white-haired doctor with a kind face, holding a clipboard clutched to his chest. The doctor looked saddened by what had happened.

“He was doing fine a few hours ago,” the doctor said. “Then suddenly everything started to slip. I don’t like to give people death sentences, but I’m afraid I had to tell him. I asked him if he’d like us to call anyone, and he asked that we track you down.”

“Did he say why?” Gerry asked.

“No. I don’t think he has any immediate family. He wrote None in the box that says Next of Kin on his admittance application.”

They took an elevator up to the top floor of the hospital. It had rubber floors and walls and felt like the interior of a spaceship. Gerry followed the doctor down the hallway past the nurses’ station to the ICU. At the doorway the doctor pulled back.

“Call me if you need anything. There’s an intercom by the bed.”

Then he was gone. Gerry swallowed hard and stuck his head into the room. It was a single, with a bed against the wall and a bunch of tubes running into the patient. Tex “All In” Snyder stared back at him with drooping eyes. He looked one foot in the grave, his face ashen. His hand popped up out of the sheet like something in a horror movie. He beckoned Gerry closer, his lips moving up and down. Gerry pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed.

“Hey, Tex, how’s it going?”

“I’m dying,” he whispered.

Tex tried to reach across the bed. Gerry took his hand with both his own.

“You want me to do something for you?”

Tex nodded.

“Name it.”

“You got religion in that bathroom yesterday, didn’t you?” the old gambler said, his voice hoarse. “You went in ready to rob that sucker with me. When you came out, you’d changed. What happened?”

Gerry told him about getting the message from his wife and how the sound of his daughter’s laughter had cleared his head and driven away the bad decisions he’d made. Tex nodded approvingly when Gerry was finished, then motioned for the water bottle sitting on the night table. Gerry placed the flexible straw beneath Tex’s lips and watched him drink.

“I have a half sister in St. Augustine,” Tex said when he was done. “Haven’t seen her in twenty years. I want her to get some money I have stored away.”

“Where is it?”

“In a safe-deposit box. Her name is on the box. She doesn’t know it.”

“You want me to contact her for you?”

“Yes. I would be forever in your debt.”

Gerry got a pad and pencil from the nurses’ station and wrote down the location of the safe-deposit box and the box number, then Tex’s sister’s name and her last known address. He told Tex he’d be able to find her even if she’d moved, the Internet being what it was. Tex reached beneath his cotton pajamas and removed a thin gold chain hanging around his neck. From it dangled a safe-deposit key. He started to give it to Gerry, then hesitated. “Promise me you’ll do it,” he said.

“You have my word,” Gerry said.

“Please don’t rob me.”

“How much money are we talking about here?” He saw Tex glare at him and said, “What I’m asking is, should your sister bring a bag?”

“A million and a half dollars.”

Gerry blew out his cheeks. A small fortune for a sister Tex hadn’t laid eyes on in twenty years. He tore the sheet off the pad and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he took the key out of Tex’s hand. He saw Tex stare at him like he’d just made the worst decision of his life.

“Please don’t rob me,” he said again.

“I’m not going to rob you,” Gerry said. “But I want you to come clean with me.”

“About what?”

“Did Ricky Smith really beat you at the Mint that night?”

Tex flashed the weakest of smiles. “’Course not.”

“You let him win?”

“His partner paid me to lose. Slick guy from New York. I said sure. Good for business.” Gerry didn’t understand. Tex motioned him closer to the bed. “It’s like this, son. I’m a cheater. Problem is, if I win all the time, nobody will play with me. So I lose sometimes to lesser players. Word gets out that I’m getting old and not what I used to be. The suckers think I’m easy pickings and come looking for me.”

The exertion got him coughing, and Gerry grabbed the water bottle. He thought back to the videotape of Tex and Ricky playing. Neither had shown their cards at the same time. Usually that meant one player was bluffing. That wasn’t the case here. Tex had thrown away winning cards and let Ricky steal the pot.

“How much did this guy from New York pay you?”

“Ten grand.”

“Did he have a name?”

“Stanley.” Tex’s eyes darted across the room. Gerry turned around in his seat and saw Clarkson standing in the doorway. The look on his face was not a happy one. He motioned with his hand, and Gerry rose from his seat. Tex grasped the cuff of Gerry’s shirtsleeve.

“Swear on a stack of Bibles you’ll contact my sister.”

“I already told you I would.”

“I don’t trust you.”

Gerry looked into Tex’s face, and their eyes locked. Then why did you ask for me to come here? he nearly said. He put his lips to the dying man’s ear.

“Too bad,” he said.

Clarkson took Gerry into the hallway. In a hushed voice he said, “Huck Dubb and his retarded brother showed up at the Holiday Inn a half hour ago. Huck asked the receptionist on duty to tell him what room you were staying in. The receptionist told him you checked out yesterday. Huck didn’t believe him. He and his brother tore the place up.”

“Did my coming here get you in trouble?”

“Yes. I need to get you back to Lamar’s house, pronto.”

“I need to say good-bye to Tex.”

“Your life is in danger. We’ve got to leave right now.”

The detective took Gerry’s arm and began to drag him down the hall. As they passed the nurses’ station, a piercing alarm went off. The nurse on duty stared at a monitor on her desk. She jumped up, ran down the hall, and disappeared into Tex’s room.

Gerry looked at the monitor. A flat line was tracking across the screen. Tex was gone. Gerry crossed himself, then got onto the elevator with Clarkson.