Memories of Misnight by Sidney Sheldon

Rizzoli had briefed Korontzis before the game. These guys have a lot of money. They can afford to lose big. Seymour owns an insurance company, Breslauer has auto dealerships all over the United States, and Sal Prizzi is head of a big union in New York.

Otto Dalton was speaking. “All right, gentlemen. Shall we get started? The white chips are five dollars, the blue are ten, the red are twenty-five, and the black ones are fifty. Let’s see the color of your money.”

Korontzis pulled out the five hundred dollars that Tony Rizzoli had loaned him. No, he thought, not loaned, given. He looked over at Rizzoli and smiled. What a wonderful friend Rizzoli is.

The other men were taking out large bank rolls.

Korontzis felt a sudden sense of concern. What if something went wrong, and he lost the five hundred dollars? He shrugged it off. His friend Tony would take care of it. But if he won. Korontzis was filled with a sudden feeling of euphoria.

The game began.

It was dealer’s choice. The stakes were small at first, and there were games of five-card stud, seven-card stud, draw poker, and high-low.

In the beginning the wins and losses were spread evenly, but slowly the tide began to turn.

It seemed that Victor Korontzis and Tony Rizzoli could do no wrong. If they had fair cards, the others had worse cards. If the others had good hands, Korontzis and Rizzoli had better hands.

Victor Korontzis could not believe his luck. At the end of the evening he had won almost two thousand dollars. It was like a miracle.

“You guys were sure lucky,” Marvin Seymour grumbled.

“I’ll say,” Breslauer agreed. “How about giving us another chance tomorrow?”

“I’ll let you know,” Rizzoli said.

When they had gone, Korontzis exclaimed, “I can’t believe it. Two thousand dollars!”

Rizzoli laughed. “That’s chicken feed. I told you. Otto is one of the slickest mechanics in the business. Those guys are dying to get another crack at us. Are you interested?”

“You bet.” There was a broad grin on Korontzis’s face. “I think I just made a joke.”

The following night, Victor Korontzis won three thousand dollars.

“It’s fantastic!” he told Rizzoli. “Don’t they suspect anything?”

“Of course not. I’ll bet you they ask us to raise the stakes tomorrow. They think they’re going to win their money back. Are you in?”

“Sure, Tony. I’m in.”

As they were sitting down to play, Sal Prizzi said, “You know, we’re the big losers so far. How about up-ping the stakes?”

Tony Rizzoli looked over at Korontzis and winked.

“It’s all right with me,” Rizzoli said. “How about you fellows?”

They all nodded agreement.

Otto Dalton set up piles of chips. “The whites are fifty dollars, the blues are a hundred, reds five hundred, blacks a thousand.”

Victor Korontzis looked at Rizzoli uneasily. He had not planned on the stakes being so high.

Rizzoli nodded reassuringly.

The game began.

Nothing changed. Victor Korontzis’s hands were magic. Whatever cards he held beat the others. Tony Rizzoli was also winning, but not as much.

“Fucking cards!” Prizzi grumbled. “Let’s change decks.”

Otto Dalton obligingly produced a fresh deck.

Korontzis looked over at Tony Rizzoli and smiled. He knew that nothing was going to change their luck.

At midnight they had sandwiches sent up. The players took a fifteen-minute break.

Tony Rizzoli took Korontzis aside. “I told Otto to chum them a little,” he whispered.

“I don’t understand.”

“Let them win a few hands. If they keep losing all the time, they’ll get discouraged and quit.”

“Oh, I see. That’s very smart.”

“When they think they’re hot, we’ll raise the stakes again and really nail them big.”

Victor Korontzis was hesitant. “I’ve already won so much money, Tony. Don’t you think maybe we should quit while we’re…?”

Tony Rizzoli looked him in the eye and said, “Victor, how would you like to leave here tonight with fifty thousand dollars in your pocket?”

When the game resumed, Breslauer, Prizzi, and Seymour began to win. Korontzis’s hands were still good, but the others were better.

Otto Dalton is a genius, Korontzis thought. He had been watching him deal, and had not been able to detect one false move.

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