“Let me see.” Jerry took the receiver. The line was indeed dead. “It was O.K. this morning.”
Sid shrugged. “You can’t depend on anything nowadays.” When the line was still dead a few minutes later, Jerry said he’d better go next door and report it.
Sid told him not to bother. “What the hell, it’ll probably be O.K. in the morning. Anyway, your pal Marty can’t do anything for me at this hour.”
“So what would you like to do?” Jerry said. “I think there’s a ball game on TV. You like football?”
Sid replied with a noncommittal shrug. “Not especially. What about a few hands of poker?”
Jerry got the cards and sat down across from Sid at the kitchen table, with a beer for each of them, even gladder he had invited Sid to stay. He toyed with the idea of offering to drive him to Meadville in the morning. It was a Saturday, he had the weekend free to do as he pleased, and it would give him something to keep his mind occupied. He had been under a lot of pressure at the office lately and a long drive would help settle his nerves. But he decided to wait until morning before broaching the idea. He might have changed his mind by then.
Now Sid advanced an idea of his own. “What do you say we make this a little more interesting, play for stakes of some kind?”
“Quarter a hand?”
Sid made a face. “That’s no fun.” He looked at the kitchen clock. “Suppose we play until eleven. Whoever’s ahead takes the whole pot.”
“What sort of pot?”
Sid gave it a moment’s thought. “I need a car and from what you said I sort of get the idea you could use some extra cash. You car’s worth what? About four grand?”
Jerry was already sure he didn’t like the idea. “About that.”
“O.K., if I win I take your car. That’ll solve my immediate problem. If you win I give you four — hell, make it five — grand.”
Jerry laughed. “You mean you’ll write me a check?” Did Sid really think he was that naive?
“Cash.”
Jerry stared at him. “You mean you’ve got five grand with you?”
“Want to see it?” Sid was clearly amused by Jerry’s reaction.
Jerry quickly shook his head. “Sorry. I’m not that brave a gambler.”
Obviously Sid had not actually expected Jerry to go along with the idea. “O.K. We’ll make it a quarter a hand.”
At eleven Sid started yawning. Jerry said, “I think you’re ready for the sack.”
“You’re right. I’ve had a hell of a strenuous day.”
Jerry replaced the cards in their box as Sid stood up, stretching and running a hand over his face. “O.K. if I borrow your razor and give myself a shave so I won’t have to waste time in the morning?”
Jerry said, “Sure, go ahead. It’s on the shelf in the bathroom.” It seemed odd that Sid wasn’t carrying a razor in his suitcase.
As Sid moved toward the bathroom Jerry said, “Tell me something. Were you kidding me about wagering my car against five grand in cash?”
Sid regarded him with a foxy smile. “Nope.”
“But you might have lost.”
“No chance.” Then, with an air of utter candor, still smiling, he said, “I cheat.”
Jerry laughed. “Well, at least you’re honest.”
“I only cheat when the stakes are high enough. Doesn’t everyone?”
“I don’t.”
“Never? Not even a little chiseling on your income tax?”
“No.”
“How about on your wife? You ever cheat on her?”
“Never.” His tone clearly expressed resentment at the idea.
With a slight smirk, as if pleased at having touched a nerve, Sid said, “What about her? She ever cheat on you?”
“No!”
But Jerry’s quick, angry flush gave him away.
“Now I know you’re fibbing,” Sid laughed.
For a moment Jerry hated the other man. But what difference did it make? He’d never see him again after tomorrow. “Maybe once.”
“Once? You’re sure about that?”
“Positive.”
Sid seemed to be enjoying this little game far more than he had enjoyed the poker. “How do you know she’s not cheating on you right this minute?”
“I told you. I know where she is.”
“She often go off on weekends alone?”
“Occasionally.”
“To visit her parents?”
“Yes.”
“You ever check up on her?”
“No. Why should I? It only happened once. It won’t happen again. I trust her.”
Sid nodded toward the living room. “I’m afraid I don’t share your faith in women. How about another little wager? Call your in-laws. If your wife’s there, you win twenty bucks. If she’s not — well, we’ll think of something.”
Now it was Jerry’s turn to laugh. “You forgot something. The phone’s out of order.”
Sid shrugged. “Then we’ll never know, will we?”
“I know.”
“As long as you’re happy, pal, that’s all that matters. It’s your life. But you know something? For all you’ve got here, your good job and your cozy little nest and your ever-loving wife, I wouldn’t trade your life for mine.”
“Exactly as I feel,” Jerry said, deciding he had finally figured Sid out. At heart he was nothing but a gambler, one of those guys who were never happy unless they were betting on something. Jerry didn’t altogether regret the hospitality he had offered Sid, but he certainly was not going to drive him to Meadville.
While Sid was in the bathroom Jerry switched on the light in the guest room and turned down the bed. Without intending to open it, assuming it was locked anyway, he lifted Sid’s suitcase onto the bench at the foot of the bed. But then, hearing the water still running in the bathroom, his curiosity got the better of him. He tried the clasp. It sprang open.
Jerry raised the lid and stared, dumbfounded, at the neat stacks of bills, still in their bank wrappers. But what alarmed him even more than the money was the revolver nestled in it. Unable to move, he stood gaping down at it.
“Surprised, pal?”
Jerry swung around to find Sid standing in the doorway, the heavy, sculptured lids of his eyes crinkling in an amused smile.
Obeying an impulse that sprang from pure panic, Jerry reached down for the gun. But before he could turn it on Sid the big man was upon him, moving as swiftly as when he had demonstrated his skill at karate, wresting the weapon from Jerry’s hand and shoving him backward across the bed.
“You shouldn’t be so curious, Jerry boy.”
And then Jerry remembered the news flash he’d heard on the car radio that morning. He’d had too many other things on his mind to pay much heed to it, but now the sketchy details came back to him. A lone gunman had robbed the Bradford Fidelity Bank and Trust Company.
“You’re the bank robber,” he stammered. “I heard about it on the radio.”
“That’s right, pal,” Sid said, holding the revolver aimed at Jerry. He reached down, slipped a fifty-dollar bill from one of the packets, and tossed it on the bed.
“Relax, buddy, I’m not going to stick you for a night’s room and board. Buy your wifey a new dress or something.”
Jerry cursed himself for not relying on that first impression of menace that had emanated from Sid as palpably as the fumes of his sweat.
Sid stood looking down at him. “The question is, what do I do with you now?”
“Look, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I swear I won’t say a word about this.”
“Won’t you? Maybe I ought to borrow your wheels and split right now instead of having you drive me to Meadville in the morning as I’d planned. But I’d rather wait till the heat cools down a little.”