05 False Prophet by Faye Kellerman

Author:Faye Kellerman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Bridge Emporium was located above a supermarket. Decker hunted around the building’s exterior, looking for a stairway, and found the entrance in the back near the garbage—a warped door stenciled with black letters: EMPORIUM. Behind the door was a flight of steps lighted by a lone bare bulb.

The bridge club must have been a warehouse at one time—about three thousand square feet of open space floored with worn, faded tiles. Bright fluorescent fixtures lighted an expanse filled with tables and chairs and people studying the splay of cards before them. It was hot. A few fans twirled phlegmatically, pushing around stale plumes of cigarette smoke.

Decker scanned the room for someone not involved in the play. In the far right corner, two kids were engaged in a game that utilized dice. Decker could hear the muted sound of cubes tumbling over felt. He walked over and saw that the game was backgammon. The younger of the two boys had acne—not a bad-looking kid, but he obviously never bothered putting any work into his physical appearance. The older one was actually an adult, early or even mid-twenties, but the way he presented himself—his gawky face, his skinny frame in clothes a size too big, black-rimmed glasses slipping down his nose—was more reminiscent of an awkward adolescent. He pushed his glasses up and studied the game board.

“You need something?” Glasses said.

Decker said, “I’m looking for Perry Goldin.”

“Still playing.” Glasses rolled a pair of double sixes—one of the best tosses possible in the game. Neither player reacted. Glasses moved his men into strategic positions. “He’s at his usual spot.”

“What’s his usual spot?”

The younger one said, “One. North.”

“Table one, north position?”

“Yep.” The younger one shook the dice in his cup and let them go. His roll left his men open for the pickings. He frowned and looked up. “He doesn’t take appointments until after the game. You’ll have to wait in line just like the rest of them.”

Decker took out his gold shield. “I’m a detective.”

That got their attention, but only minimally. The older one said, “What’s Goldin wanted for?”

“Felonious finessing,” Decker answered.

Glasses rolled the dice and said, “Ask a stupid question…”

Decker smiled and looked at his watch. “When’s the shindig due to end?”

The younger one checked the clock. “Few minutes at most.”

“Have a seat,” Glasses offered. “You play?”

“Enough to know that if I was betting, I’d bet on you.”

Glasses smiled and rolled another double. The younger one pushed the board aside. “If I didn’t know you, Dave, I’d swear you were using loaded dice.”

“It’s your board, Steve,” Dave said, evenly.

“This is true.”

Steve looked at Decker. “You want to go a round?”

Decker shook his head. “I hear Goldin’s a real bridge bum.”

Dave straightened his glasses. “Perry a bum? He must make a hundred gees a year. His wife’s pulling in another seventy, eighty gees. I reserve my tears for the needy.”

“He makes a hundred gees a year playing bridge?”

“Private tournaments, teaching, renting himself for matches…” Steve shrugged. “Renting is where Perry makes most of his bread.

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