Chapter Nine
On Thursday, Markham was playing cards, but not at Lord Adam’s party. Instead, he sat opposite Sir Rollo at Shipley’s Club, Thorn at his side. They’d ascertained his routine of changing clubs every few days, which likely helped him hide his cheating.
Markham hadn’t heard of any other sap being bled dry, but stealing smaller amounts didn’t lessen the crime.
As usual, when they arrived, Sir Rollo was banker. The unnamed man who always played at his table was most likely the partner in the scheme. If no one pontooned and took over the bank during the game, the partner would buy the bank and take over as dealer.
Markham had determined Sir Rollo would pocket coins every hand or two, the main form of shorting the bank. When the partner bought the bank, Sir Rollo had an excuse, if challenged, to say any missing money was someone else’s fault. It also freed him to count cards and win a majority of the hands.
By alternating that way, his actions were less noticeable to anyone not paying close attention.
Markham and Thorn were paying close attention.
Conversation was nil, everyone focused on their cards, and what the other players had been dealt. Markham counted cards as he assumed the partner was, hoping someone would pontoon and take the bet. At that point, Markham would have calculated what was in the bank. At some point, the bank would return to Sir Rollo, and Markham could add new plays into the total and know how much should be in the bank. Then he or Thorn could buy the bank, count it covertly, and accuse Sir Rollo outright.
Assuming the cards fell their way. The first two hands went to the dealer, adding to the bank. Thorn won the next, and so the play went.
After two hours, no one but Sir Rollo had been dealt a pontoon, so he remained the banker. Markham couldn’t buy the bank at that point, because he couldn’t guarantee It would end up with Sir Rollo again that night.
In the wee hours, when Markham wished he was home in bed, the bank changed hands to another player. At least, he could count along with the new banker to discover the amount there, and hope it ended up with Sir Rollo again after not too long.
Another dozen hands were played, and Sir Rollo got a pontoon and received the bank again. Markham sighed in relief. Once Sir Rollo had a chance to pocket some coins, Markham could buy the bank and prove the cheating once and for all.
But it had to be three in the morning already.
He stifled a yawn and focused on Sir Rollo’s hands as he dealt, and once he dealt a card from the bottom of the deck and gave it to his partner. No one said anything, but how could he believe no one would notice the ten of spades being dealt so soon after it was played, and the deck hadn’t been shuffled? The partner ended up with twenty points and was paid for equaling the dealer’s hand, but no one else had that many points.
The other players looked as tired as he was. Red eyes, drooping posture, and slower play told Markham they weren’t as sharp as earlier in the night.
Thorn must have noticed the same thing, for he nodded when he met Markham’s gaze. Knowing Sir Rollo would have noticed, too, he adjusted himself in his chair to wake up. Any cheating would likely increase now.
And it did. Dealer’s hand won most often, so the bets went into the bank, which was a sloppy pile as usual. When it appeared Sir Rollo pocketed another coin or two, Markham made his move.
“I want to buy the bank,” he said.
Sir Rollo shrugged. “I was about to call it a night, so I’m happy to sell.”
“It’s still early. Stay a while longer.” Markham paid Sir Rollo for the bank, which he slid across the table and began to stack. As he suspected, it was short by two guineas, ten shillings. He glared at Sir Rollo. “There’s some money missing.”
“I must have overpaid a win.” Sir Rollo looked at the other players, not an ounce of concern on his face. “Someone got lucky.”
“Two guineas lucky? My winnings are correct, how about you, Thorn?”
Since his coins were stacked, he knew at a glance. “Mine are accurate.”
“Isn’t it odd that neither of us benefitted from your clumsy dealing?”
“You’re accusing me of cheating?” Sir Rollo’s voice rose, drawing the attention of anyone in the room still alert enough to notice.
“I am.”
“That’s outrageous! I won’t stand for having my name blackened. Apologize, now.”
“I never apologize when I’m in the right.” Markham didn’t yell, but made certain others could hear.
“You will meet me in two hours in Epperly Green.”
“I’ll be there.” Markham rose and Thorn followed him out of the club.
“How far will you take it?” Thorn asked.
“I’m assuming the slur to his name is enough to send the man running. He’ll be blackballed from his clubs once word spreads…I’m guessing by this evening he won’t be able to gamble anywhere but the hells. At least there he can’t cheat unsuspecting gentlemen.”
“Will you meet him in the park?”
“Of course. I’ll go home, drink some coffee, take my gun and be there a bit early.”
“I’ll come, too.”
They parted ways as the sun rose, and Markham wished he was going home to sleep. That would come soon enough.