28

Everyone looks at Cabressa.

‘Whoever’s got us locked in here knows one of us is Herron.’ The mobster looks from person to person. ‘It’s not me, so it has to be one of you, and I want to know who.’

The tension feels heavy in the air. No one speaks.

I hold my breath, waiting to see what happens next. Beside me, JT moves forward in his seat – a tiny adjustment, but I know he’s getting into a position ready to go on the defence if things escalate.

Johnny, seemingly a brave drunk, gestures towards Cabressa. ‘What’s to say you aren’t Herron?’

Otis inhales sharply. Carl shoots a worried look at Mikey.

Cabressa uses his index fingers to smooth his thick, dark eyebrows into place. ‘A fair question. The voice said each of us had a secret, and listed out those secrets for us. Among us are a police informer, a thief, a killer, an addict, a bankrupt, a wife-beater, a cheater, a fraud, the father of an illegitimate child, and Herron.’

‘This is one sick game,’ says Anton, grimacing.

Otis’s shaking his head and looking like he might throw up.

‘Seems like a cheap riddle to me,’ says Mikey, lighting a cigar.

‘Not so cheap when Herron has cost some of us big money these past few months,’ says Carl. ‘If we could get rid of him tonight, that’d be a win in my book.’

Thomas, the security guard, puts his hand on his gun. ‘There’ll be no getting rid of anyone. I’m here for all your safety. Nothing can happen inside this building.’

Johnny stares at Cabressa. ‘You’ve not answered my question yet. How can we be sure you aren’t Herron?’

Cabressa nods. ‘I’ll make my confession first, shall I? I don’t have anything to hide. I’m the father of an illegitimate child. Two children in fact – Kirsten and Toby; they’re five and nine. Their mother has been my personal assistant for the past twelve years. Sadly my wife has been unable to have children, therefore we have an “arrangement”.’ He looks from person to person. Holds my gaze the longest as he says, ‘I am not Herron.’

‘So who is?’ says Anton, eyes narrowed, looking from person to person.

No one speaks. Everyone avoids eye contact.

Otis’s leg is jigging at double speed. ‘Look, if we’re going to get out of here, we have to work it out. It’s the only way, man.’

Thomas shakes his head. Keeps his hand on his holster.

Cabressa looks at Anton. ‘I know you’re the bankrupt, so given the parameters of this game you can’t be Herron. But if you find me Herron, all the cash brought here for this poker game is yours.’

On the opposite side of the table, from behind Carmella, Thomas steps towards Cabressa. ‘That’s not how things get done here.’

Anton frowns.

Thomas keeps approaching. When he gets level with Anton things seem to shift into fast forward. Anton shoves Thomas towards the table. Thomas, big and lumbering, falls sideways, his balance lost, vulnerable. Anton ploughs after him. Pinning Thomas against the table, he brings his knee up hard into the big guy’s stomach. As Thomas doubles over, arms flailing, Anton punches him in the side of the head. The security guy drops to the ground, out cold.

Hot damn. Anton sure moves fast for a man of his bulk.

Otis is staring at Thomas’s collapsed body. Carl and Mikey seem in a state of shock. Cabressa looks unbothered as he flicks a speck of fluff from his jacket.

I look across the table at the spot on the floor where Thomas is lying. No matter how I think on it there’s no fast or stealthily way for JT or me to get to Thomas. As I glance at JT I can tell from the intense expression on his face that he’s trying to figure it out too. We need to, and we need to do it real fast. Because sitting in Thomas’s holster is a Glock 27.

JT starts to stand.

Johnny, wide-eyed with shock, turns to Anton, who stands statue-still beside Thomas, his fists still clenched. ‘What the fuck did you just—?’

‘I want all the money,’ Anton says to Cabressa. ‘Everything that was put on the table and held in reserve in the back room.’

The mobster nods. ‘That’s what I said was yours: all the money. Only the chess pieces and the car are off limits.’

‘Okay,’ says Anton. He bends down toward Thomas’s body. ‘I’m happy with the cash.’

I can’t see what he’s doing, but I’ve got a damn good idea. There’s no time to stop him. All we can do right now is try not to draw attention. Think on our best move. I turn to JT.

He grimaces and slides back into his seat. He leans towards me, but his eyes are on Carmella, as he whispers, ‘Brace yourself.’

Carmella is vigorously shaking her head. ‘Anton, you can’t have the money. That’s just not going to happen.’ She turns to Cabressa. ‘It’s in my care. It’s not yours to give—’

‘The rules have been changed, Carmella,’ says Cabressa. ‘This is out of your hands now. Tonight we’re playing a new game.’ He nods at Anton.

Anton straightens up. The Glock 27 is in his hand. He points it at Carmella. Adjusts his posture – his legs are splayed, and both hands grip the gun. The exaggerated stance makes him look like a cartoon figure, a make-believe cowboy. But the Glock is very real. So is the danger.

‘You caused this, bitch,’ says Anton. He puffs out his chest. His tone is fuelled with macho bullshit. ‘You let your cell get stolen. You deserve to die for your damn stupidity.’

There’s a pause. A brief moment of silence. Then JT speaks.

‘Put the gun down,’ JT growls. ‘No one needs to die here.’