Poker Articles

Let's Make A Deal: A Poker Cop Mystery
By Robert Arabella

Part 1
Let's Make A Deal - 1960's TV Game Show

There are three people involved in this murder mystery. I'll tell you first about the Poker Virgin. Her name was originally Arleen Springfield but, losing the "e" and the "field" she now called herself Arlen Spring. My first impression of Arlen was that she was just another dime-a dozen dishwater blond in blue jeans and a t-shirt. The late-twenties "girl-next-door" who works fifty-one straight weeks in a nickle-and-dime job saving up for one "girls-just-wanna-have-fun" week in Las Vegas.

George Shaw is an over-eighty professional who plays fold'em-fold'em-hold'em. At the Majestic Poker Room's high-stakes no-limit hold'em tables the regulars call him "Rocky." Shaw will only play sixteen cards, A's- K's, in early position, A's - Q's in the middle, and A's - J's late. All other starting hands, from all other positions, go into the muck. After the flop, when hold'em players, who don't know Rocky's style, see his hands tremble when he counts out chips for a bet, they make the mistake of taking signs of aging for signs of weakness. Their chips pay "Rocky" Shaw far more than his monthly Social Security check.

Jimmy Joyce is an under-thirty professional who plays an all-out ram-jam, fist-full-of-chips, bet'em down to the felt, no-fold'em hold'em. At the Majestic Poker Room's high stakes no-limit hold'em tables the regulars call him, "The Garbage Man." Joyce never met two-gapped or unsuited starting cards that he wouldn't play to the river. He'll bet in early position with Room Temperature, 7-2, call a raise in the middle with The $64,000 Question, 6-4, and re-raise, late, with The Scratchy Record, 7-8. Most of the "no-odds/low cards" bad beat stories in this room end with: "I can't believe "The Garbage Man' played that hand!"

Last Saturday night George Shaw and Jimmy Joyce sat across from each other at the Majestic Poker Room's $500/$1,000 no-limit hold'em table. At the same time Arlen Spring sat in the Majestic's Ca-sino feeding a 5 cent; slot machine.

That's the three players in this murder mystery. You know who are and where they were. If they had never been brought together there would never have been a murder. I should know. I'm the one who brought the three of them together. My name is Talbot. They call me "The Poker Cop." Now that you know the players we can start the game.

Shaw and Joyce, playing for hours, had several times reached the river together. After each show-down, shouted insults had flown. Joyce has called Shaw "Feeble," "Senile" and a hyphenated twelve letter name. Shaw has called Joyce "Poker Trash," "Parasite" and triple hyphenated eleven letter name. I was forced to stand at the rail, waiting for the chairs to start flying.

"Rocky" Shaw had folded his last two dozen starting hands. Shaw peeled back his hole cards with his shaky hands, looked down and dropped a black chip on top. First to act, he made it $5,000 to go. (I figured he held either Snake Eyes or King Kong.) Most of the regulars, including the blinds, must have thought so too. They folded. One tourist, a woman, in middle position, and Jimmy Joyce, on the Button, called.

The dealer announced "Three players," scooped the chips into the center, and laid out on the felt a rainbow flop of K 2 2.

After some play-acting Shaw checked. (I put him on Kings Full. He'd have bet out with Aces.)

The tourist checked. (I put her on a suited Ace-Face , , or .)

Joyce bet $5,000. (He could have anything)

Shaw raised another $5,000. (Now I know I'm right!)

The tourist thinks about the bet and raise behind her - and still calls. (If I'm right she's going to need a runner-runner's to make her flush.)

Joyce calls.

Fourth Street is a 5.

Shaw (Slow-playing?) checks.

The woman (Four to the draw?) checks.

Joyce bets $10,000.

Shaw raises $15,000.

He's called.

Fifth Street is a 4.

If I'm right that Shaw's got "The Big House" I'd go all-in but Rocks are 100.10% predictable. With-out holding the Absolute Nuts – the 3/ 6- that would make a Straight Flush - a Rock like Shaw would never go all-in.

"I'm all in," says Shaw, who uses both of his shaking hands to push his stacks forward.

The woman (A-high flush?) looks at her chips, frowns, looks at her cards, frowns, looks at Shaw's trembling hands, and without a word, pushes all in.

Jimmy Joyce spills all his chips forward. "Let's see 'em," says the Dealer.

The woman shows down AJ. (Wow! I'm good at this!) " . . . Ace high flush," says the Dealer.

The Joyce shows down 4-2. "Full Boat!" says the Dealer.

George Shaw looks at Joyce's cards, throws his hand into the muck, and goes berserk. He rises to his feet yelling, "How could you play that garbage hand? I raised! Check-raised! Re-raised! Those raises screamed MONSTER HAND! What did you think I was raising with?"

"Kings," said Joyce as he gathered in chips, "I thought you were raising with Kings."

"Then how could you play an off suit 4-2?"

"My birthday is April 2nd so whenever I'm dealt 4-2 I play it to the River no matter what. They're my lucky numbers."

Shaw gapes at him, shaking his head in disgust.

The woman, getting up from the table, says, "Hey, I lost all my chips too. You don't hear me whin-ing."

Shaw rages at her, "You deserved to lose all your chips. You're a terrible player."

"And lost all my money just like you," she answers walking away.

"It's just a bad beat, Georgie," says a player trying to calm him down.

"Yeah," says another, "happens to everybody."

"Not to me!" Shaw yelled, "Never!" He slammed his hand down on the table. "I played my hand perfectly! He," pointing an accusing finger at Joyce, "played dog-stupid poker!"

Joyce tells Shaw, "Shut up, old man."

"Make me!" Shaw yelled back.

They jumped from their seats and headed towards each other. I'm forced into the middle.

"Stupid old fool . . . What's the matter with you?"

"You didn't deserve to win."

"Bad beats happen, Gramps."

"Not to me!"

"Who died and made you poker God?"

"I simply can't lose a hand like that to a player like you. I'm too good."

"Old man, on any given day a Poker Virgin can beat any of us."

"Not me!"

"I can pull a Virgin out of the Casino right now and teach her to beat you."

"You can't."

"Wanna bet?"

"Let me get this straight. You're saying you can teach a Poker Virgin to beat me?"

"In a week."

"How much?"

"$250,000."

"I'll match it!"

They shook hands, sealing the bet.

"You're my witness, Talbot. He says he can teach a Poker Virgin to beat me!"

"You're my witness too. The bet is $500,000."

"Good," I tell them. "Now will the two of you just shut-up."

I'm ignored. "We need to find a Virgin."

"I'm not letting you choose!"

"You think I'm going to let you?"

"Then who finds our Virgin?" They both turned to me.

"Talbot, we need you to pick a Poker Virgin."

"Someone who I can teach. . ."

". . . and I'm going to beat."

"Listen," I began. "I'm not going to . . ."

A crowd had gathered. Someone said, "I want a piece of this action."

"1-100 on Rocky."

"I'll take those odds!"

"200-1 on the Virgin"

"I'll give those odds!"

"I'll take that bet."

"Let me in on this."

The crowd grew. Money started changing hands.

"Come on, Talbot. We need a Virgin."

"This is Vegas," I told them, "There are no Virgins."

Shaw, on my left, grabbed my arm and turned me towards the Casino floor. Joyce, on my right, pointed straight ahead. Through the parted Poker Room curtains, I could see down a row of slot machines.

"Pick someone!" yelled Shaw.

Joyce said, "Right out there. Pick someone, Talbot! Now!"

"Pick someone" yelled the crowd. "We need a Virgin!"

I give in, "OK, OK. I pick . . ." I look down the row of slots. There were three women sitting at the 5 cent; slots. "There, that woman,' I pointed and all eyes followed. "The one closest to the rail. The dime-a-dozen dishwater blond in blue jeans and a t-shirt. She's your Poker Virgin."

Copyright © 2003 by Robert Arabella