Riverboat Roulette Page 7

  I reached my foot over again and started to slide, but this time it slipped and I lurched off the ledge, my entire right side falling forward. I barely caught myself with my left hand. My feet dangled below me, inches above the slats of the paddle wheel. I could hear the water churning below as spray from the river hit my legs.

  I thrashed my feet, desperate to find a foothold to lift me back onto the railing, but my feet weren’t finding anything. I tried to grab the railing with my right arm, but I couldn’t reach. My left arm was getting tired, and the pain in my shoulder was growing more acute. I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to hold on.

  The churning of the paddle wheel felt like it was getting louder. Of course it was only my imagination, but it felt like the paddle was creating a vacuum that was pulling on my feet, trying to suck me into its slats. My mind went blank as adrenaline poured through me. I didn’t know what to do.

  Suddenly my right foot caught on something. I tentatively pushed my weight on it. It was a narrow ledge of some kind. I couldn’t see what it was, but it felt strong enough to hold my weight. Very slowly, I pushed down and extended my knee. My foothold was tenuous. I was aware that any second I could go tumbling again, and this time I had no faith that my left arm would be able to hold my weight. I got high enough to swing my right arm back onto the ledge. Using both arms and the foothold, I was able to haul myself back onto the ledge.

  I didn’t even stop to collect myself. I wanted off this ledge and both feet firmly planted on a deck as soon as possible.

  It took close to ten more minutes, but I made it to the other side. I collapsed to the ground, grateful to have both feet under me. It wasn’t quite solid ground, but I would take it.

  After a moment of catching my breath, I headed back into the main deck. Bess and George spotted me immediately and rushed over. Mrs. Marvin was right behind them.

  “Nancy!” Bess said. “Are you okay?”

  “We’ve been looking all over you,” George added.

  I opened my mouth to explain what had happened, but all that came out was a raspy croak.

  “Nancy, you need water,” Mrs. Marvin exclaimed, rushing off to get me some.

  When she came back, I drank it all down with one gulp.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I didn’t realize how thirsty I was.”

  I quickly explained what had happened. Bess, George, and Mrs. Marvin were horrified.

  “I don’t want you investigating this incident anymore,” Mrs. Marvin said.

  “I think my mom’s right.” Bess nodded. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “I agree,” George said. “This thief has already pushed one person overboard. They must know that you’re investigating and now they’re going after you.”

  I shook my head. “We’re still half an hour away from docking, and the thief clearly knows that I’m onto them. The safest thing for me to do is solve this case once and for all. Beside, I can’t let him get away with it.”

  “Him?” Bess asked. “Do you know who it is?”

  I nodded, looking at George. “I’m sorry, but I’m certain it’s Brett.”

  “But we know he didn’t push Catherine,” George said.

  “He might have a partner, but I know he’s the one who locked me out there. He was the last person to leave.”

  George and Bess exchanged a look. “I don’t know if that’s enough evidence for Margot to go to the police with.”

  “I know Margot,” Mrs. Marvin said. “She’s going to want more concrete proof than that before she confronts her guest of honor.”

  I looked across the room at the final table. It looked like Joanne and Mr. Rainey had busted out since I had been gone; just Carla and Brett were left. Brett’s backpack was still under his chair. The pile of chips in front of Brett was almost twice as big as Carla’s. It seemed like he’d gone on a run and had won most of Joanne and Mr. Rainey’s chips. My pile had been significantly depleted. George wasn’t kidding when she’d said that antes could bleed you dry.

  “Then let’s get some proof,” I said.

  I could feel the entire room’s eyes on me as I marched over to the table, with Bess, George, and Mrs. Marvin trailing behind me. I knew I looked like a wreck. As I passed under the rope, Brett looked up at me. I couldn’t see behind his sunglasses, but I imagined the expression on his face was smug.

  “Oh, hey, Nancy,” he said. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it back. I thought maybe you got detained.”

  I didn’t say anything; I just made a beeline for his backpack. Many times your job as a detective is getting information without anyone realizing what you’re doing. You have to be discreet. You have to charm. You have to coerce. You have to finagle. But often there’s no time for subtlety; you have to get the information using whatever means necessary.

  Brett looked at me, confused. He didn’t understand why I wasn’t sitting down in my seat. Only as I came right behind his chair did he realize what was happening, but it was too late. I already had my hand on the bag, and I yanked it out of his reach.

  “Hey!” he yelled. “You can’t look in there!”

  Margot had noticed the commotion and joined the group.

  “Nancy, what are you doing?” she asked. “This is highly inappropriate.”

  But I ignored both of them. Bess and George formed a protective wall around me so Brett couldn’t grab the backpack back.

  I yanked the zipper open and plunged my hand into the bag.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Confession

  MY HAND CLOSED AROUND SOMETHING square. I could feel other similar items in the bag. They almost felt like stacks of money. But when I pulled one out, I realized it was a pack of cards.

  I reached into the bag again and pulled out another pack of cards. And another.

  Brett had a look of terror on his face. I stared at the cards, confused. This wasn’t what I was expecting to find.

  “Brett, I am so sorry,” Margot said. “I will deal with Nancy. She never should have violated your privacy like that.”

  George came up behind me. “Let me look at those,” she said. I handed her a pack and she quickly flipped through it. Her face fell.

  “These cards are marked,” she said quietly.

  Margot stopped talking to Brett and turned to George. “Are you absolutely sure?”

  George nodded grimly.

  “What does that mean?” Bess asked.

  “I’ll show you,” George said. “Hang on a second.” She walked over to a nearby table and picked up another deck of cards. She spread that deck and one of Brett’s decks out on the table, facedown. “Can you see the difference?”

  They were both red with cherubic figures in the center and an intricate design around the sides involving swirls and abstract flowers.

  “They both look the same to me,” Bess said.

  “Look harder,” George said.

  Bess and I peered more closely. Suddenly I saw it! “On these cards,” I said, indicating the pack from Brett’s bag, “some of the leaves around the edges are filled in. But on this other deck none of them are.” It was subtle, but once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.

  “I see it too,” Bess said.

  “Me too,” Mrs. Marvin added.

  Margot shook her head furiously. “I can’t believe you,” she said to Brett.

  “It’s not what you think,” Brett said meekly, but Margot clearly didn’t believe him.

  “But how does that help?” I asked.

  “Watch this,” George said. Her hands flying, she grabbed several cards from Brett’s spread-out deck and arranged them on the table.

  “What do you notice now?”

  “The leaf that’s colored in is in a different place on each card,” Bess said.

  “It almost looks like a clock the way it moves around the cards,” I noticed.

  “Yep,” George said. “And that clock tells you what card it is. For example, this one,” she said, pointing to a card where the leaf co
lored in was directly in the middle at the top, “is an ace.” She held the card up, so only Bess and I could see it. “Am I right?”

  She was. “It’s an ace of spades,” I confirmed.

  “And this one,” she said, holding up a card that was marked at the nine o’clock position, “is a ten.” Again she was right.

  “But this one isn’t marked,” I noted.

  “That’s the king. This is a really old trick that card cheats have been using for at least a hundred years,” George explained.

  “So you knew what cards all of us were holding in every hand!” I said. “You weren’t winning by skill at all.”

  Brett nodded meekly.

  “How did you switch the decks?” Margot asked indignantly.

  “Did you cause Andy and Joanne to crash into each other to get the real cards wet, so you could make the switch?” I asked as the realization hit me.

  Brett just nodded again. “I threw a salt shaker on the ground right as Andy was walking by.”

  I shook my head in disbelief.

  “I know it was wrong, but what was the harm?” Brett protested.

  “What’s the harm!?” Margot squawked. “You ruined the integrity of my event!”

  “You were cheating,” Mrs. Marvin said sternly.

  “Yeah, but people still got to play with me,” Brett argued. “Pet Crusaders still made money. Who cares if I won for real or by cheating?”

  George, Bess, and I were all speechless. He was right, I supposed, in that no actual harm had been done, but it still felt wrong. People had paid to play an honest game against him, to test their skill against a true professional player, and they had been cheated of that experience.

  “That’s not the point,” Mrs. Marvin said to Brett. “And you know that. You let down a lot of people who were looking forward to meeting you.”

  “If you think we will still be paying you an appearance fee, you have another think coming,” Margot said.

  Brett shook his head. “I really need that money!”

  “Well, you should have thought about that before you treated my event with disrespect,” Margot said. “I can’t even look at you right now,” she added as she stormed off.

  “Donating that fee to this organization is the least you can do,” Mrs. Marvin said before she turned and followed Margot.

  “Have you been pulling this stunt your whole career?” Bess asked Brett.

  “What? No!” Brett protested. “I won my World Series of Poker bracelets fair and square.”

  Bess looked at him skeptically. One thing I’ve learned as a detective is that people tend to make the same mistakes over and over. When you’re looking for a culprit, the first person you want to look for is someone who has done something similar before.

  “I believe him,” George said, noting the disbelief on our faces. “Professional poker players would have caught this really quickly. Not to mention the millions of fans watching on TV. He never would have gotten away with this in a professional tournament.”

  “I saw the letter,” I admitted. “I know you’re losing your sponsorship, but I don’t understand how winning a charity tournament against amateurs helps you.”

  “I’m being considered by another sponsor, but if I lost a tournament to amateurs, they’d never take me on. They’d really think I was washed up.”

  “But poker is half luck,” George pointed out. “No one can hold losing one tournament against you.”

  “They can when you haven’t won a tournament in two years,” Brett said. “I couldn’t risk having more bad luck. The stakes are too high for me. I’ve been playing poker professionally since I was twenty-one years old. Beside waiting tables in college, I’ve never had another job. If I don’t get another sponsor, I don’t know what I will do with my life.”

  “But what about locking me outside without a coat?” I asked. “Why did you do that?”

  “I’m sorry about that,” Brett said. “But I thought you were onto me.”

  “I almost fell into the river!” I exclaimed.

  “I was going to let you back in. I just wanted to win the tournament first.”

  I shook my head. Part of me felt sorry for him. Maybe if he had just cheated during the game I could have forgiven him, but he’d also put my life at risk. His career and ego did not make that okay.

  “Let’s go,” I said to George and Bess. “We have work to do.”

  My friends and I made our way to an empty table all the way in the corner and slumped into our seats.

  “He was one of my heroes,” George said. “I can’t believe that someone I looked up to would do something like that.”

  “At least you don’t have to feel bad that you didn’t get to play against him,” Bess said.

  “That’s true,” George said.

  Bess turned to me. “How about you, Nancy? How are you doing?”

  “We have nothing,” I said. “We solved a case, but it was the wrong one.”

  “We have something,” Bess said.

  “From the start, we operated on the assumption that the crash was a distraction so the thief could get into the safe,” I said. “But now we know that the crash was a distraction so that Brett could switch the cards. We don’t even know when the money was stolen.”

  “Well,” Bess said, “we know it was stolen within the first half hour of the gala, because that’s when Catherine and Margot discovered it was missing.”

  “What did Catherine say when you talked to her?” I asked.

  “She didn’t say much,” George said.

  “She was still really shaken up from the fall,” Bess explained.

  “She said she didn’t remember anything unusual happening either before the money was stolen or when she was out on the deck,” George said.

  “We tried to ask her a few questions, but Buddy made us leave,” Bess said. “He was very protective of her.”

  “Sorry, Nancy. I know we didn’t get the information you were hoping for,” George apologized.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I can’t believe I thought this case was going to be easy.”

  “It makes sense,” said George. “How often do you do have all your suspects trapped in one place?”

  We sat in silence. I racked my brain, trying to come up with another angle, to find the piece that I had missed.

  “Let’s go through all the clues again,” I said. “From the beginning. Let’s cross out everything that was due to Joanne and Patrick evaluating the boat and everything that was due to Brett switching the decks.”

  George pulled out her phone. “Okay, I’ll take notes.”

  “First we wondered why Joanne and Patrick were here, helping Margot’s organization,” Bess said.

  “Right, but now we know it was just so they would have access to the Delta Queen,” I said.

  “There was the crash between Joanne and Andy,” George said.

  “But Brett admitted that he orchestrated that as an excuse to switch the decks,” Bess said.

  “I was locked out,” I said.

  “That was also Brett,” George pointed out.

  “Catherine was thrown overboard,” Bess added.

  I thought for a second. There was something nagging at me. But before I could think of it, the horn blared.

  “Attention, everyone,” Buddy announced over the PA system. “We will be docking in five minutes. Please take this time to gather your belongings. We will be exiting off the stern side. It has been a pleasure to have you onboard.”

  I felt like I had been punched in the stomach. I knew solving a case in three hours would be a challenge, but I’d never thought I would completely fail. I didn’t have a single lead.

  “Come on,” I said to Bess and George. “Let’s find Margot and tell her she should call the police.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  We’re Gonna Need a Smaller Boat

  THE PASSENGERS WERE GONE. I had watched them stream off the boat, studying each one, hoping I would see something that
would make it all fall into place, but I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. I even kept a lookout for large bags so I could at least tell the police where to start, but I didn’t see anything bigger than a briefcase.

  Bess, George, and I were seated around the final table with Buddy, Margot, Catherine, and Mrs. Marvin, waiting for the police to show up. Around us Andy and the other waiters cleaned up. There was a sad silence among all of us. In past years, this was when Mrs. Marvin, Margot, and the other organizers had celebrated a job well done. They would toast one another and make a big show of counting the money they’d earned. It was usually my favorite part of the evening. This year, there was no toast, no celebrating, and no one seemed relaxed. Everyone just wanted to go home.

  “It’s not all lost,” Mrs. Marvin said to Margot. “The police could find the money. They’ll monitor the financial activity of all our guests, and if someone makes an unusually large purchase, they’ll investigate.”

  Margot shrugged. “I don’t think so. Whoever did this is smart. They broke into a safe in the middle of a crowded boat, they hid the money onboard, and they got it off while we had a detective on the case. I don’t think they’re going to buy a fancy car tomorrow. They’ll sit on the money and wait for a long enough time that no one will connect the expenditure to the theft, or they’ll spend it slowly, never attracting attention. Either way that money is gone.”

  All the rage and fire that had been coursing through her the whole evening was gone. She reminded me of a deflated balloon.

  She paused for a moment. Then she stood up. “I need some air. The police said they’d be here in ten minutes.”

  We watched her leave. As intense and difficult as she was, it was harder to see her like this. She didn’t seem like the same person I had met three hours earlier. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. I wish I could have solved the case in time. Bess, always observant, noticed the look on my face.