Poker Articles

A House Full Of Death - A Poker Cop Murder Mystery

Part 14- The Queen Of Death
By Robert Arabella

"Cardologists," academics who study the history of playing cards, say that every civilization had produced two very different sets of playing cards: The Good Deck, used by righteous people as a form of mild amusement, and The Evil Deck, used by sinful people as a form of reckless recreation. In each of these decks, say the experts, can be found the actual faces of essential Good and eternal Evil, especially, so they say, in the female face cards.

In Egypt the female face cards on the Good Deck might have represented Nefertiti, Queen Of the Nile, on the Evil Deck Nepthys, Queen of the Dead.

In Greece the female face cards on the Good Deck might have been represented by Helen Of Troy, on the Evil Deck by the monstrous Medusa.

In Rome the female face cards on the Good Deck might have been represented by Venus, Goddess Of Love and Beauty, on the Evil Deck by Discordia, Goddess of Madness.

In France the female face cards on the Good Deck might have been represented by Joan of Arc and, on the Evil Deck by Queen Marie "Let Them Eat Cake" Antoinette.

In England the female face card on the Good Deck might have been represented by Good Queen Bess, on the Evil Deck by Bloody Mary.

Right this moment I'm thinking about all those evil, bloody Queens. Red Penny has just blurted out a story that changes everything.

LVPD Strip Homicide had been still wrapping the Arcadiana Poker Room in yellow Crime Scene tape when Red Penny said to me, "Talbot. I have a confession to make. Now that I know that the story of 'The Flesh Bet' is true, I may know something about these murders. Something Welly said about his mother Buffy ..."

"Welly" is LVPD Strip Homicide Detective Weldon Blake. Other than that I don't like him, I know very little else about "Welly."

"Buffy" is his mother, the filthy rich society widow, Susan Blake. I know way too much about "Buffy."

Susan "Buffy" Blake, the former high-priced call girl known as Mustang Sally, was once, long ago, the object of the "The Flesh Bet" (also know as "When Harry Bet Sally"), the wager by her pimp, Harris Ratzinzky. "Harry the Rat" bet that he could beat the hand of a multimillionaire playboy, Fremont "Monty" Blake, who had inherited ownership of almost all of Fremont Street and half of the Las Vegas Strip. The ownership of "Everyone's Gal Sal" changed on the turn of a card, and the suddenly pregnant woman formerly know as "Sally In The Alley" became Mrs. Fremont Blake. Their child, Weldon, called by his parents "Welly," and raised by "Buffy" after the untimely (and very suspicious) death of Monty Blake, was now LVPD Strip Homicide Detective Weldon Blake. While hitting on Red Penny, Blake had let slip a piece of information that, when I heard it, suddenly turned my murder investigation upside down.

"Tell me again exactly what Weldon Blake said to you."

Red Penny repeats her story: "Welly said ..."

"Welly? I still don't know anyone named Welly."

Red Penny takes a deep breath. "Detective Blake invited me to his home tonight. He said we could have the whole penthouse to ourselves. His mother was going out to meet with an old family friend."

Here she stops and I prompt her into finishing by asking, "Who was Buffy Blake's friend, Penelope?"

"I didn't get a last name," says Red Penny. "Weldon just referred to him as his Uncle Harris. I think that Welly ... Detective Blake's 'Uncle Harris' may, in fact, be our dead poker playing pimp, 'Harry the Rat.'"

"I think so too. If we're right, then Buffy Blake, the woman who Harry The Rat once 'owned' and who now owns half of Las Vegas, including the casino in which you and I work, may have murdered him. If you're right, we could be dealing with Las Vegas' Queen Of Death."

I get up to leave and suddenly Red Penny blocks my way, "Stop!"

When I do, she says to me, "You can't be serious. I know Buffy Blake. She's sweet and smart and totally incapable of anything violent. Do you know who Buffy Blake is? The good works she does? The Blake Orphanage, The Blake Clinic, The Blake Hospice ..."

It's my turn to say, "Stop! Not only do I know who 'Buffy' Blake is, I know who she was-'Mustang Ranch Sally,' the flesh pot in the infamous Flesh Bet poker game. Only now Harry the Rat, who lost her, and Monty Blake, who won her, are both dead, along with a lot of other people. I think you and I had better go talk to Lay Down Sally, don't you?"

"No. I do not. You have no right to question anyone. You're not Chief of Strip Homicide anymore. You drank yourself out of that job, remember? All you are now is The Poker Cop."

"All the more reason for me to talk to her. These are poker murders and I am, after all, The Poker Cop. And she is, whether you like it or not, a murder suspect."

"You can't be sure of that!"

"No, I can't, can I? All I am sure of is that so far tonight four poker players have been murdered in what appeared to have been a reenactment of Sammy deCiprio's Full House Murders. We believed back then that those four poker players had been total strangers, both to each other, and to their killer. Sammy deCiprio was killed (the killed part is something I don't talk about, and I'm not about to start talking about it now) before we learned the truth. Now suddenly, all these years later, I have a piece of new evidence that may solve nine murders! I'm going to figure out what it means no matter who I have to talk to. If you don't get out of my way I'm going to knock you down on my way out the door."

"If you're going, I'm going with you!"

"Penelope," I reply, "I won't have it any other way."

We ignore Vegas Vic and his lawfully wedded wife, Vegas Vicky, towering high above Fremont Street, as we stand just outside of The Glitter Palace Hotel where, in the Penthouse, lives the widow of Fremont Blake, who once owned all this real estate before it became the property of "Buffy" Blake, the woman I suspect of being a murderer.

"Why are we standing out here?" asks Penelope Fallon.

This is not the first time Red Penny has asked this question and, since I'm not of the mind to tell, will not be the last. "I'm not asking you to stay out here with me, Penelope, but if you insist on staying, can't you just to be quiet and enjoy the scenery?"

She looks around Glitter Gulch critically ands says, "Not much to look at."

"Are you kidding? This is Fremont Street! Gambling in Las Vegas started right here at The Northern Club and The Pair O'Dice back when The Strip was still a long deserted stretch of Highway 91. Think about all the great movies shot right here on Fremont Street!"

"I don't remember seeing Fremont Street in either Citizen Kane or Casablanca."

"That's because I'm talking about great Las Vegas movies like Viva Las Vegas, Vegas Vacation, Leaving Las Vegas, Honeymoon In Vegas, Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas. Not to mention Casino and Bugsy and ..."

Red Penny rolls her eyes and asks, "Why are we here?"

Tired of alternately giving her evasions and half-truths, I try an evasive half-truth, "We're waiting for someone."

"It's a delivery man, isn't it? We're standing out here because you've ordered a pizza, aren't we?"

"No, Penelope, we are not waiting for a pizza delivery, but, now that you mention it ..."

"Three," she says."

"Three what?" I ask.

"If you don't tell me why we are here by the count of three, I'm going to hurt you."

"You would never hurt me, Penelope."

"One."

"Is the loneliest number."

"Two."

"I guess that's the second loneliest number."

"Three."

Red Penny starts forward and I try an evasive three-quarter truth, "Truth is we're waiting for a poker player."

"Why?"

"Why does she play poker? I'm not sure. It may be a flaw in her character."

Red Penny turns to walk away and collides with the poker player I've been waiting for, Allison "All-In Allie" Sharpe. "Aren't you supposed to be in jail?" asks Red Penny, recovering from the crash.

Allie responds, "My old sweetie Talby sent me a 'get out of jail' card."

"A very temporary 'get out of jail card,'" says Detective Rook, holding up the handcuffs that attach them.

Red Penny asks, "Now will you tell me why we're here?"

"Penelope," I answer, "I thought you'd never ask." I turn to my old girlfriend, "Allie, you were the poker dealer at The Flesh Bet table, right?"

"Worst night of my life, Talby."

"Do you remember the details?"

"Mostly. It was twenty-something years ago but then again it's hard to forget a poker game in which two men bet a woman."

"Allie, how many players were at that table?"

"Nine. All men. That I'm sure of. I can still remember every one of their faces."

"Their faces?" asks Detective Rook. "How could you possibly remember their faces?"

"I had a ringside seat at a slave auction. When the stakes are human flesh, you tend to remember the details."

"And how many of those nine," I ask, "were in that hand?"

"That's easy. All of them. It was a very loose table and an even looser hand."

"Can you name the nine players?"

"No," she answers, "not all of them." She thinks this over. "Monty Blake and Harry the Rat for sure. The Fat Lady, Sammy Samson, Johnnie G. The others, I didn't know their names."

"Could you pick them out of a line-up?" I ask.

"If any of them are still alive, sure."

"I don't think any of them are still alive." I take from Detective Rook a folder containing a handful of black-and-white glossies. "I don't think any of them are alive. This is going to have to be a dead man's line-up. I hand her photos of murder victims. Tell me if any of them look at all familiar."

Allison Sharpe takes her time, going one by one through the gruesome pictures, trying to imagine if any of these bloodless slack-faced dead faces were seated at The Flesh Bet poker table two decades ago.

From a stack she picks out four. "You're sure?" I ask, and she responds, "I misspent half my life reading faces at poker tables, remembering tells. I'm telling you now I remember each of them."

"Thank you, Allie," I tell her. "I'm afraid Detective Rook is going to insist on taking you back to jail right now but I promise I'll have you out in a couple of hours." She leans over and gives me a very soft kiss and whispers something in my ear before being led away.

Red Penny takes the four pictures and asks, "Who were they?"

"Penelope. They are the supposedly the unrelated murder victims of two serial killers murdering poker players twenty-years apart. Only now we now have the common link-they were all players in The Flesh Bet Game."

"Why would two serial killers, Sammy, Sr. and, long after his death, Sammy, Jr., want to murder all the players in The Flesh Bet game?"

"That, Penelope, is the wrong question. If you ask yourself that question, The Full House Murders will continue to make no sense."

"The Full House Murders have never made sense. Serial killers are, by definition, delusional psychopaths. They act for nonsensical reasons only they believe to be true."

"And, in these cases, that's exactly what we believed to be true. The only common thread we could find was that the murder victims all played poker, a pretty nonsensical reason to be murdered. Now we know different. The real common thread wasn't the game they played but the game they played in-The Flesh Pot Game."

Red Penny holds up her hand to silence me while she thinks this over. "Are you saying Sammy deCiprio planned to killed all the players in that game?"

"Since he killed five of the Flesh Bet players before (what I want to say is 'I killed him' but what I do say is) I stopped him, I have to think that's exactly what he planned. Now Sammy, Jr. is trying to finish the job."

"No, Talbot. You're wrong. Sammy, Jr. has finished the 'job.' All nine players in the Flesh Pot game are now dead. The final score of this game is The Sammys: 9, The Poker Cop: 0."

"No, Penelope, you're forgetting someone."

"The only 'someone' left alive from the Flesh Pot game poker game is the dealer, your old girlfriend, Allison Sharpe, who for some reason I don't understand you've promised to get out of jail. What am I missing?"

"Not 'What'? Penelope, 'Who'? Figure it out. I'll wait."

I don't have to wait long. "You cannot be serious!"

"I am as serious as serial murder." I hold open the door of the Glitter Palace. "You need to come upstairs to the Penthouse with me, Penelope. Let's introduce ourselves to the murderer Sally Blake."

Copyright ©2007 by Robert Arabella