The day wound down, and some of the officers trickled out, headed for the bar. Kim gathered her things. She tried to look as casual as possible. It was difficult, given how quickly her pulse was racing. Phillips and Newport both looked surprised to see her leaving on time.
It wasn’t until Kim pulled out of the precinct that she picked up the pace. She sped home as quickly as possible and changed into jeans. She didn’t want to attract too much attention. Then it was simply a matter of sitting on her sofa, bag packed, ready to go.
At 9 p.m., the killer’s calling card, the King of Spades, flashed on her smartphone screen. She grabbed the phone and waited breathlessly.
The Blockhouse. North Woods. Central Park.
Again, Mr. Kane kindly requests no company,
No weapons,
And no nasty tricks.
He’s rather fond of his heart, you see.
I’m waiting for you.
Your friend,
The King of Spades
Kim jumped to her feet and raced down to her car. She sped north, silently thanking a higher power for the lack of traffic. She’d never gone into a situation so unprepared before. She didn’t know what she’d be facing. Whatever it was, she was going to have to rely on quick wit and quicker reflexes. There was no way she could jeopardize Kane by coming in armed. She’d just have to rely on instinct and a lot of luck.
She parked close to the northwestern entrance at Central Park West and 110th street. The upper regions of the park were much less trafficked, even during the day. At night it was a virtual graveyard, except for a few intrepid drug dealers and other lowlifes. As she stepped beneath the shade of the tall, leafy maples and oaks, she felt a definite tremor of fear. She’d been relying too much lately on her trusty 9mm, despite her extensive self-defense and martial arts training. Then again, a solid upper jab was little good against a lunatic with a firearm.
Kim tried her best to banish these fears as she hurried onward over tangled roots and under low-lying branches. The park was bathed in velvet darkness. She did her best to ease her way forward without a flashlight. She didn’t want to attract attention.
After about ten minutes of walking, she mounted a small hill towards a squat stone structure, the remains of an old fortification. Trees in full leaf ringed the rocky embankment.
There, in the shadow of the blockhouse, was Kane. He was seated on the ground, bound and gagged. His normally expertly combed hair was rumpled. He looked exhausted but otherwise in one piece. Good.
Next to him stood a man of medium height. He wore ordinary clothes and a black mask. His hands moved slightly in front of him. The woods were silent, so Kim could hear the soft sound of paper sliding against each other. He was shuffling a deck of cards. In front of him were a low table covered in poker chips and two stools.
“Good evening, Miss Daniels,” the man said in a low and surprisingly melodious voice. “I apologize for the facilities, but I made do with what I could on short notice.”
“That’s Detective Daniels to you, Mr. Spades. You’d better end this foolish charade right now and hand over Alex Kane. You’re only landing yourself in deeper water by kidnapping a high-profile celebrity.”
“Pardon me, Detective, but I’m not even in the shallow end yet. Your department has failed to expose me in any meaningful way. Which means I am perfectly free to continue doing as I like. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“I’d argue that no one should be allowed to kill an innocent young woman, but I’m biased, being a cop and all.”
“Feisty,” the masked man said. “I expected that. You young women really don’t have any manners. I must say, I was very upset that you not only disrupted my little game the other night but took the pot, too. It’s not the money, Miss Daniels. It’s the principle. The game is set up expressly for losers, not surprise winners. I granted you the cash because I’m a man of my word. But I was highly displeased, Miss Daniels. It was hardly mannerly of you.”
Kim stared at him, momentarily unnerved. This guy was definitely a special case. Wiggling her and Alex out of this unscathed was going to be interesting.
“I’m not here for a scolding,” she said hotly. “What do you want?”
The masked man shook his head in disapproval. “Very unmannerly indeed. Well, Miss Daniels, I’ve invited you here to challenge you to a final game, seeing as you so badly want entry to my little club. The rules are very simple: you win, and Kane is yours. I win, and you’re both mine. Understand?”
Kim took a moment to catch her breath. The man was clearly a cunning card player. Were her skills good enough to beat him? There was only one way to find out. She sat down on the opposite stool.
“Deal,” she said evenly.
The mask accepted this blankly. “Excellent choice, Miss Daniels. I’ve taken the liberty of giving us $5000 each in chips. But as you can imagine, the money is meaningless in this type of, shall we say, life or death situation.”
While the killer shuffled the cards, Kim snuck a quick look at Alex. She looked into his eyes, hoping he could tell her something, anything. What she saw was panic. This told her one thing – that the past few hours with the killer had not shored up confidence in Kim’s ability to free him. This was definitely worrying. But what could she do? She had to try.
Please, Dad, she thought. Send me some good luck over here. I really need it right now.
The masked man dealt them both two cards. Kim peeked at hers. Terrible. The worst. She saw instantly that she was never going to win by raw skill alone. Then there was the fact that the killer was dealing. He could easily cheat, if he wanted to. She was going to have to play as dirty as all get. She bid high. Very high. The dealer scrutinized her face.
“You know, this is hardly fair,” she said casually. “You can see my expressions, but I can’t see yours.”
“You’re right, Miss Daniels. But what if you happen to win? Then you’re going to have a much easier time identifying me in the future.”
“I thought you said that I could never win.”
“Well played. You’re right. You simply can’t. All right then, fair’s fair!” The killer whipped off his mask to reveal a doughy, flattened face. An ordinary face, by all accounts, with a squashed nose and short fluffy brown hair. He smiled at her widely and bid under. They flipped the cards and she took the pot.
“Confident, aren’t we Miss. Daniels? Unfortunately, that’s not a quality I like in a woman,” the killer said, shuffling again. The paper made a rasping sound that set Kim’s skin crawling.
“Well, we’re playing cards, not dating, so my qualities are going to have to do for now,” Kim returned. She was going to be less cocky and try to lull him into a feeling of false security.
Her next cards were equally bad, but she bid lower this time. The man watched her closely, uncomfortably so. Behind his blandness there was definitely something wrong.
The man matched her bid. He was testing her. She bid a little higher. So did he. They continued on like this until the numbers started to get sky high. Kim began to panic. Her cards were really bad. If she lost this round, she’d lose out big. What if he actually had great cards? The impassive face continued to watch her. She had to stop this now. He seemed to know no limit. She passed. They flipped their cards. His were even worse. He took the pot.
The game went downhill from there. Every time Kim tried to outmaneuver the killer, he was one step ahead. If she pushed him far, he folded and had the better hand. If she bid conservatively, he bid lavishly, and had the worse cards, too. She kept thinking in the back of her head that she was too smart to be falling for his ploys. Maybe it was his unnerving attitude. Maybe it was because it was so dark, and every rustle and bird call startled her. Whatever it was, it wasn’t playing out to her advantage.
Still, Kim fought hard and she fought long. She tried to keep her eyes away from the killer and on the cards. But whether it was a disadvantage in skill or Lady Luck simply wasn’t on her side, Kim found that she had been roundly beaten. The killer had taken the game. It was over.