West
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 East
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When
I went outside, I noticed the gumshoe. He was a creepy fellow,
but
I recognized him as a local hustler at the Waterfront Bridge
Cafe
where he gave bridge lessons for $9 an hour.
I let him follow me to a
chess and backgammon club just to
upset him. Then I took out a
Lucky and let him speak. The
Fat Man wants to see you, he said.
You don't
say, I said, blowing smoke into his face. I let him
take
me to the hotel but when we got close to the Fat Man's
suite, I
grabbed his convention cards out of his back pocket
and held them
up to the light as we walked into the suite. Give
them back to me,
he cried, as the Fat Man laughed.
Cairo was there too, and after
introductions we sat down
for a cut-around.
Five
dollars a point? asked the Fat Man.
Shall
we play for higher stakes? Such as information about the
bird? I
asked.
Ah,
you're a man after my own heart - come right to the point,
don't
you. Let's say whoever loses the rubber tells what
he knows first.
With that, he dealt and opened a weak
notrump, 11-14. I had a
purely defensive hand, but three
aces and a queen. What should I do?
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