Nice Round Numbers
I played nine. It was my lucky number. The croupier gave the wheel a spin without putting a wrinkle in his well-tailored tuxedo. His thin black mustache stayed tight over his lip. The ball bounced around like a candy wrapper caught in a whirlwind, like a cue ball about to scratch.
The Riverboat Gambler was a floating casino that seemed to go around in circles, docking at some port every couple of days to replenish its supply of suckers. I came aboard with two hundred dollars in my pocket and a price on my head. I’d managed to bail out of Miami one step ahead of a warrant with my name on it as if I was public enemy number one. Fraud, forgery and theft were the charges, not murder.
The wheel slowed. The ball bounced around a few more times before deciding to land on eight, a nice round number with a good figure and plenty of curves but not what I was betting on. I watched half my money fly away like it had wings and what was left in my pocket was starting to feel pretty light.
I wasn’t shedding any tears, though. Self-pity had never been one of the diseases I’d suffered from. I’d been in tighter spots than this before and there was always something waiting around the next corner.
“Tough luck, pal.”
I felt a soft hand on my shoulder to go along with the sympathetic voice. When I turned, I was staring at a ring with a diamond the size of the North Star.
“It’s only money,” I said. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”
“That’s a good attitude. Too bad more people didn’t think like you.”
He smiled, showing a row of well-manicured white teeth, like ducks floating around a shooting gallery.
“No sense being a sore loser. Why not spread it around?”
“It being the money,” he said, curling his lips around a long narrow cigarette and drawing it out of the pack.
“What else?”
He introduced himself and offered to buy me a drink. I needed one and we got ourselves to the nearest bar. He already had a few in him and by our third double Scotch, I knew his life story. His name was Teddy Plisinski. He’d made a small fortune in laundry supplies and preferred to spend it on travel and gambling. A great combination if you were rich, semi-retired and queer as a three dollar bill.
This cruise was a business trip for him, an annual convention of short, round, middle-aged men with little more in common than the price of laundry detergent. They were looking to blow off some steam and spend their hard-earned money and get drunk without worrying about their wives and children or the ride home.
There’s always more to the story though, and with this guy there’s plenty more. His grandfather was one of the original Boston bootleggers, a millionaire ten times over and a horny old rascal at that. He’d nailed anything that moved. Except, when his youngest daughter turns up pregnant, he tosses her out, disowns her. She gives birth to Teddy and no sooner, gives him up for adoption. Now, it’s forty years later. The mother is gone and the geezer is on his deathbed, wrestling with a guilty conscience. He wants to make it right between him and the grandson he never met. Some guys have all the luck.
“By making it right, you mean money?” I asked.
Teddy mumbled drunkenly, “What else?”
We decided to take a stroll on deck and clear our heads. The night air on the Gulf was cool. The wind blew in from the west carrying a salty spray that you could taste. It stuck to my skin and irritated my eyes. We leaned against the rail and lit a couple of cigarettes, nothing around but black water and a dark endless night.
The ship rose and fell with the rolling waves and it looked like Teddy was going to be sick and I was going to get stuck playing nursemaid. He could barely find his mouth with the cigarette and I caught him a couple of times just before his face hit the deck. He wasn’t passing any field sobriety tests.
“It’s not like I need the money, you know,” Teddy mumbled. “Why give him the satisfaction? The man means nothing to me.”
“I know what I would do if I were you.”
“What’s that?”
“I’d play along until the old guy kicked. It’s easy money if you ask me and the inheritance does rightly belong to you. Why piss it away? Don’t let your emotions get the best of you. If you hate the guy so much, just think of the satisfaction you’ll get when you’re spending his money.”
“I suppose you’re right. I deserve that money. I got it coming to me.”
Teddy was starting to make sense thanks to me. I was always good at giving advice. It was the listening part I had a problem with. I never got the hang of seeing trouble coming, never knew when to quit. My hindsight, of course, was perfect.
“Hey, Joe, do me a favor. Come on up to Boston with me. Be my guest.”
Teddy fumbled with another cigarette and before he could get it lit, he dropped the whole pack over the side. He tried to catch it before it fell and made a lunging stab like a center fielder at the wall. His waist caught the rail and he tumbled head first into the cold dark water.
I’d only taken my eyes off him for a second before I heard the splash. It sounded a long way off. If there was a life preserver hanging on the wall nearby, I would have thrown it to him. I actually liked him. How could I not? But the way things stood, I couldn’t be any part of an official investigation. So, unless Teddy was a damn good swimmer, he was shark bait.
It wasn’t until I got back to the bar that the idea hit me. Not that Teddy and I looked alike or had anything in common but that stuff could be arranged. It was a matter of attitude more than anything else. From what I got from Teddy, the old man had never laid eyes on him. If anyone could pull it off, I could. As soon as that tin can hit the docks, I’d make tracks for New England and give Grandpa his grandson back, stick around just long enough to collect. I’d have to keep my fingers crossed that good old Teddy enjoys his swim and doesn’t wash up on some distant shore.
I made it back to Teddy’s room without running into any nosy neighbors and managed the door without much coaxing. I tried on a couple of his high priced shirts and a pair of leather boat shoes. Teddy had good taste and most of the stuff fit. I found Teddy’s precious letter of introduction. It was my lottery ticket. I read it over twice, memorizing most of the consequential details and tucking it neatly into my pocket.
Teddy’s soft, leather wallet was fat and bulging in my back pocket. It would take some getting used to but I was going to enjoy being Teddy Plisinski.
Airplanes made me nervous but after three glasses of Johnny Walker in the airport lounge and three more on the plane, altitude no longer mattered. We dropped through the clouds and the Boston skyline appeared. Gray rectangular buildings rippled in the dusty air. We touched down hard on the runway and came to a screeching halt just before tumbling into the harbor where I might have run into good old Teddy.
Grandfather lived in a stone mansion on five acres with a circular cobblestone drive, a swimming pool and more rooms than the Hilton. I picked up a rental car at the airport with Teddy’s credit card, driving nice and slow through the neighborhood. I didn’t want anyone calling the cops. I could fool a senile old man but the Massachusetts State Police were another story. I’d memorized Teddy’s address, date of birth and social security number. If Teddy told the truth and Grandpa didn’t know what he looked like, this should be a very happy reunion.
I danced up the steps like a freshman home from college and waited while the doorbell chimed away like a symphony orchestra doing the Star-Spangled Banner. I fixed my tie and leaned against a bored looking granite lion sitting like a poodle on the porch.
The spring chicken that answered the door didn’t know what to make of me. I made her out just fine. The late morning sun hit her like a spotlight in the doorway. Her straight blond hair glowed. You didn’t know what part of her to look at first. She seemed to be moving even when she was standing still, trying to hide what she had under a dark woolen sweater and pleated pants. I’d have to be blind not to notice. I introduced myself and waited for a smile. It didn’t come.
I played it cool. I could see this girl wasn’t passing out any favors for free and I didn’t blame her. She seemed like the outdoor type, all bottled up in the house but when the wind took her and she got some grass under her feet, she’d be a real mover.
“Are you going to invite me in?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, a mask of confusion tightening over her face.
“Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing. You’re not exactly what I expected.”
“And what were you expecting?”
“A bald guy in a smelly bathrobe.”
“If you’re referring to Mr. Solomon, I don’t think he’d appreciate that.”
“He’d forgive his only grandson. Wouldn’t he?”
“You’re Theodore?”
“In the flesh.”
I tried to smile like Teddy on the night of his fateful demise, showing a lot of teeth and a soft cheek. I wasn’t sure if I fooled her, not a girl like that. She was probably used to all kinds of lines. Though I doubted any of them were as far from the truth as the one I was selling.
I followed her into a large foyer, portraits and tapestries on the walls, full-length curtains over stain-glass windows. Her heels tapped lightly on the parquet floor. She was being cordial but she wasn’t happy about it.
“Mr. Solomon will be so happy to see you. He’s thought about nothing else since he knew you were coming.”
“Same here,” I answered, following the sway of her hips down a darkened hallway.
The old man had a king-size bed set up in the parlor. A fire from the night before still smoldered in the fireplace. Dark, heavy curtains were drawn over a picture window that looked out onto a rolling green lawn the length of a golf course. A lamp on the bedside table illuminated the coarse gray wisps of hair clinging to his bald scalp. A half glass of amber fluid on the table went begging for a couple ice cubes. From the looks of it, Grandpa got started early.
“Bring me my glasses and my cane, Amanda. I won’t have this young man watch me linger in bed like an invalid.”
She hovered around him like a honeybee over a flower. She helped him to his feet and before he took two steps she had the bed made and began mixing drinks at the sideboard.
“I find Miss Neuhardt indispensable as you can tell. The only woman I ever had any real use for. She has the true spirit of a sportsman. She can shoot with the best of them, gut and clean any fish in the sea and then cook it like a gourmet chef. She manages this estate and is a fully trained nurse. You’d be hard-pressed to find one like that.”
I agreed.
Miss Neuhardt opened the drapes and set two places at a small table by the window. While she helped the teetering old man into his chair, I came up a little too close behind her. She backed into me but I didn’t move a muscle. I held my ground with a hand on her hip and another at her elbow. I guided her past me, felt her firm thighs brush against me. She didn’t bat an eye.
“You don’t have to convince me. I was sold from the start.”
“Let me look at you, Theodore. You turned out to be quite a strapping fellow. There’s nothing soft about you. If I didn’t know better, I would have guessed you did a little time at hard labor.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself. Must run in the family. Threw your weight around a little back in the old days, if I have my story straight.”
The old buck acknowledged with a smile and a nod, remembering what it was like to hold someone in his grip and kick them when their down. You didn’t get what this guy got by showing mercy.
“How was your trip? Find the place all right?”
“No problem. Couldn’t wait to get here. I felt like I was coming home.”
“We have a lot of catching up to do, Theodore, and not a lot of time to do it, I’m afraid. I’m a sick man, son. I’ve already hung on longer than the doctors expected. The best doctors money can buy and all it gets me is a death sentence.”
“Don’t count yourself out. I never listened to a doctor in my life and I’m no worse for wear.”
“I like your spirit. I’ll keep it in mind.”
He took a fast gulp of Bourbon and grimaced, leaning heavily on his cane.
“Why doesn’t Miss Neuhardt give you the tour and show you to your room? I’ll rest and meet you for dinner. I believe Miss Neuhardt is preparing her famous Roast Duck and I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.”
“I’m sure I won’t, not with my appetite.”
“Good.”
The old bird could hardly contain himself. These rich old hawks were so full of themselves, so full of false pride, you could pump them up with hot air until they floated away like a big round balloon. They never got their fill. I had him eating out of my hand. I could taste the green already.
I grabbed the suitcases from the car and Amanda led me upstairs. The staircase was wide at the bottom and narrowed near the top. I found myself behind her again and if my hands weren’t full, I would have carried her over the threshold.
“What kind of game are you playing here, honey?” I asked.
We were in my room and I closed the door behind me. If looks could kill, I would have been dead where I stood. Her eyes were like daggers and they were aimed at me. She opened a window and turned on a light. Her mouth she kept zipped.
“I’m just trying to figure out what the deal is. This is no kind of job for a woman of your…capabilities. I can’t believe there’s anything going on between you and the old man. So you’re here for the payoff. Nothing wrong with that.”
She stood near the bed with her arms folded. Her head was cocked a little to the right. Her eyes squinted like she couldn’t get me into focus. I strolled slowly toward her with my hand out like I was making friends with a stray cat.
“I’m glad you approve.”
“I don’t blame you one bit and I won’t stand in your way. You’ll get what you have coming to you. Tell me if I’m wrong.”
She was frozen, her eyes cold and fixed on mine. When I reached her, we stood face to face. Her lips were taut and stern. For a second I thought she was going to spit at me. It was hard to tell. I pushed her down onto the bed and fell on top of her. She was stiff but didn’t fight. I kissed her neck and pushed up her sweater. I wedged my leg between her knees and they parted like the Red Sea.
I’ll admit that Amanda and I got off to a cool start but she warmed up quick and we finished strong. The old man didn’t get around much and I had her in every room in the house, on every piece of furniture inside and out. Amanda would serve us lunch and clean up while he and I talked like two respected members of the good old boys club. He’d have his nap and I’d chase her around.
Everything was falling into place but I was getting impatient. I was starting to feel like the butler to Amanda’s maid. This old dude could hang on for years.
I finally came out with it. I put the proposition to her like a business deal. If she put a little something in his soup, it just might speed things along. There was no sense in delaying the inevitable. The sooner we planted the old guy, the sooner we’d have our dough. She couldn’t help but see it my way. I was surprised she hadn’t thought of it first.
I didn’t say anything more about it and every day old Mr. Solomon grew paler and weaker. She was one of those slow workers. Slow but steady, and always planning one move ahead. That’s what I liked about her. She could think on her feet. She wasn’t bad on her back either. We kept on consummating our relationship like a couple of newlyweds in the honeymoon suite until we came down one day and found him on the floor, gasping for breath and flopping around like a fish out of water.
We held hands and watched him suck down his last lungful of air before choking to death on his own vomit. He must have known we were there. He made one last attempt to stand and collapsed. I had poured myself a drink, toasting his memory and checking his pulse. He had gone to meet his maker. And knowing old man Solomon, he was going first class.
We settled the will in a week and were married in a month. We left on our honeymoon, walking hand in hand aboard the Caribbean Queen in Boston as man and wife. The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. We sailed south, stopping in Antigua and Bermuda and on to the South American coast. We were Mr. and Mrs. Theodore Plisinski, young, beautiful and rich.
We drank champagne all day and all night. Every time she raised her glass the rock on her finger sparkled in her eyes. It was nine karats of the most flawless diamond this side of the Atlantic. I chased her around the cabin, peeling every stitch of clothes off her every chance I got and I got plenty of chances but the ring never came off. I made sure of that.
After that first week, I never wanted to see dry land again. We slowed down long enough grab a meal in the restaurant and catch a show. Amanda would try to cool me off with a late night walk on deck. She’d light a cigarette and stare into the night sky. I was usually pretty tanked by then and had only one thing on my mind. Needless to say, it wasn’t a stroll under the stars.
“Where do you think we’d be if you and I never met?” she asked.
“You mean if me and Teddy Plisinski never met.”
“Be serious.”
“I mean it. You already had a pretty good thing going before I got there. I’ve seen girls marry those sick old guys’ right before they kick off and come away smelling like a rose.”
“And where would you be?”
“I’d be trying to keep warm in some jail cell.”
“Are you saying I would have been better off without you?”
She slid her hand inside my jacket and buried her face in my neck. I felt her tongue slide across my skin like a snake. I leaned back against the railing. Her hands moved down my body. I could hear her breathing, letting out little moans like a hungry kitten. It felt like I was floating.
With her head against my chest and her hands on my shoulders, she pushed me backwards. Her strength took me by surprise. Before I knew it, my feet were off the ground and I was tumbling backward. I hit the cold water and went under. I struggled to the surface, spitting salt water like a hooked mackerel and watching the ship sail slowly away with my wife, my money and my life.