Six O’clock he wanted him there, he’d etched it on his mind and drilled it into his consciousness and wouldn’t dare be late. It wasn’t often that Andy turned down beer, especially when the whole crew had gotten together to join in the party at the Furnace Arms, but he knew the consequences of messing up at the card game so his party ended earlier than the others.
At five minutes to six, he walked through the side door of the Cecil Pub. The place would be closed for the night with the only people there, being the card players and their minders. Danny wasn’t bothered about losing a night’s pub business as he’d only bought the place to launder parts of his ill-gotten gains. It was one of the most profitable pubs in the country according to his tax records and if the inland revenue ever became suspicious, the local Police would give him a shining reference of how much of an upstanding member of the local business community he was. Well, they would do with the amount of money he backhanded them to turn a blind eye and watch his back.
The BDBs were already there. Billy the nonce sat in a corner alcove reading the Sporting Post and combing back his greasy Teddy Boy quiff, with the strange belief that it made him look like Shakin Stevens. He took his eyes briefly away from his newspaper just enough to give Andy a smirk of contempt. Billy knew that Andy despised him but he didn’t give a fuck, why would the most despised low life in Scunthorpe care about one more person hating him.
Big Don sat his monster body at a table close to the locked front door with his beige camel hair coat folded neatly on a stool next to him, and a revolver handgun was conveniently hidden under his coat. He’d put a notice on the outside of the door first thing in the morning informing the local community that the pub was closed that day and evening due to unforeseen circumstances and would re-open the following day. Well, he would have put it like that if he wasn’t so thick, in reality, the note said, ‘We are shut, Fuck off.’ And he’d written it in crayon as well. The locals knew what it meant though and stayed away, unwilling to question Danny Pleasants and his henchmen so they quickly found solace in other pubs.
Barry the Butcher stood leaning against the bar, with a cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth. He was combing through the racing post as well as Billy. The local bookies hated the BDBs. Every single day they would place bets and if they won, great, but if they lost, then the three of them expected their stakes back, without question. One young and inexperienced manager of a local betting shop once questioned them for this and was found three days later, minus his fingernails and a face so swollen, it resembled a bulldog chewing a wasp’s nest. No betting shop dared question them again after that.
Barry the Butcher checked his watch and then gave Andy a dirty look. He was on time and that pissed him off greatly as he wanted to play dirty with him for letting down Danny the previous night. The pub hadn’t been touched yet in preparation for the Poker game so as usual, it had been left to Andy to clear the tables, chairs, and stools and fetch and prepare the Poker table from the cellar. He struggled up the damp mouldy stairs with the table without the slightest bit of help from the BDB’s and his struggling amused the three of them.
“Careful wi table ye fecking eejit.” Crowed Barry as Andy banged the edge of the table against the bar. “Sure ill fecking shoot yous so I will if you feck this up taneet.”
The pub manager walked in from behind the bar with two bottles of expensive whiskey in her large hands and plonked them on the bar in front of Barry the Butcher to be used in the poker match. Andy always got on with Sharon Knuckles and being a butch lesbian, she always had eyes for Sarah which is why he never brought her into the pub. The head of the five biggest crime families would be playing cards tonight, enjoying themselves, conducting business deals, and deciding who would be killed and by who. So the last thing Danny needed to be doing was serving up the watered-down whiskey from the optics that the regular punters were served. So five bottles of expensive single malt and a dozen bottles of champagne had been purchased by Sharon as a sign of respect to the players.
Now that might sound like a strange name to have, Knuckles. But that is her actual surname, so if you're imagining a big butch lesbian with huge hands, a clit ring the size of a horseshoe, and a shaven head, then I could accuse you of prejudging people solely on their names. However, when God was dealing out bodies and surnames, he was taking the piss, because she is a shaven-headed lesbian with huge hands and knuckles and can punch like a pro boxer. Andy once saw her drop two grown men who thought they could touch her up but instead ended up with broken jaws. Her door work career, now behind her, she made her living running the Cecil for Danny and collecting the odd debt that needed to be low-key collecting, not the full-frontal crap off you know who, and she always delivered and on time.
Andy set the table and laid out the green poker cloth whilst Sharon brought over the unopened packs of cards for Andy to practice with. Just like a formula one racing car, he needed to warm up and get his mind into the Zone. Danny was relying on him to feed the cards he needed throughout the poker game but not to do it noticeably for obvious reasons.
Now I’m going to let you in on a secret only Andy is aware of. All those years ago when he spent time incarcerated, he shared a cell with an old-timer called Terry Diamond, a lovable cockney who was full of secrets, wisdom, and knowledge. The old-timer was coming to the end of his days so Andy looked after him wanting nothing in return for his kindness. Because of this, Terry chose Andy to be his successor in what he described as divine knowledge.
To understand this we have to go back to the end of World War Two. Terry’s father made his living from card games, not as a dealer but as a player of renown with an ability to always know what cards were being dealt and what the opponents held. You see Terry’s father knew how to mark poker cards with his fingernails whilst playing with them, with the slightest of hand, he’d mark each card throughout the game so only he could recognise which card was which from a glance of the back of each card. This worked well for his father for many years until one day he was caught and every single one of his fingers was broken for his cheating.
Undeterred by this, Terry decided to take his fathers’ system one step further. Upon being demobbed from the Army, Terry arrived back in blighty to high unemployment but a determination to be his own man. Armed with the sacred knowledge of card marking passed down to Terry from his father, Terry spent his time during the war identifying four playing card manufacturers in Britain that were always used at underground card games and casinos.
With his lovable cockney cheek, Terry had talked his way into a store's job throughout the war and found himself stationed at Aldershot for the entire duration without once participating in any fighting. Just simply blanket stacking, stealing, and studying the backs of four different manufactured packs of cards. He’d identified where the manufacturers were situated, what type of printing press they used, the level of security at each factory, and where to have his own printing plates made. He came away from his cushy job in the Army with a large amount of money in his pockets from six years of pilfering and supplying the black market with knock-off Army tinned food and cigarettes and every penny he earned, he saved, knowing the plates for four different packs of cards was going to cost a pretty packet to be made.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Terry had been heartbroken to discover that he didn’t have enough money to have all four sets of plates made, his money fell just one set short. Undeterred by this, he did what all cockney scoundrels do when their backs are against the wall, he robbed a bank at gunpoint.
The plates with his own, unnoticeable designs were switched by himself and he told nobody…ever, about what he had done until the day that he shared his knowledge with Andy. Not only did Terry teach Andy how to play brilliant poker without cheating, but he also taught him how to take everyone to the cleaners whilst cheating with marked cards.
The packs of cards that Sharon brought over to the table were the usual ones, from one of the four manufacturers that Terry had nobbled years earlier so Andy opened a pack to familiarise himself and began dealing them to none existent players. Every card that he dealt, he was aware of what it was, his eyes gave nothing away that he knew.
Sharon sat in front of him and picked up one of the six hands that Andy had dealt. She liked Andy, his rugged good looks made him attractive even to a lesbian, and their mutual hatred for Billy the Nonce created a strong bond between them.
Just having Billy in her pub made her skin crawl and swore that one day, the opportunity would manifest for her to kill him.
“What am I holding,” she asked. This was her job for the next hour or so, making sure Andy was on form.
“Ace of hearts, King of diamonds, three of clubs, and seven of clubs.”
“Spot on Andy, you’re on form again.”
Sharon bit her bottom lip and Andy noticed this, a sure sign that she had something on her mind and desperately needed to spill it out. She knew better than to turn her head to see if the BDBs were listening, this would give them a sure sign that she was talking about sensitive stuff so she lowered her voice just enough so they couldn’t hear, but loud enough to not make it obvious.
“I need to talk to you about something”.
“Yeah, I figured you did, what’s on yer mind?”
“Danny has branched out.”
Andy continued dealing sets of cards and Sharon continued checking them to make it look all sweet and innocent so nobody would notice.
“Branched out into what?”
“Trafficking, trafficking kids to perverts.”
Andy nearly made it show that there was more going on here than a simple poker game warm-up, His revulsion and anger nearly showed but he managed to hold it back and continued dealing.
“I’m not sitting back and watching this shit happen, but the cops have his back covered and there’s a few of them involved in it as well, it's sick.”
“Fuck… the bastards how could they,” whispered Andy whilst dealing the cards.
There’s a few of us Andy, only a handful that wants to end their lives and be done with them forever. The town will be better for it.”
“I can’t take part in killing people Sharon, for fucks sake that’s extreme ain't it?”
“They prey on drug addicts Andy, they get people hooked on heroin then get them in debt for it, then take their kids to settle the debt, the addicts are too far gone to give a fuck about their kids. I’d call that fucking extreme, wouldn’t you?
Andy stopped dealing and gathered all the cards. This was the last thing he needed to hear. He was about to deal in a major poker game, he had twelve months to get out of a deal with the Devil and he was yet to tell his girlfriend that he may be going to Hell.
“What do you wanna do about it, you know what they’ll do to us, to our loved ones?”
“Give us time Andy and we’ll think of something, we just need to know that you're in.”
“Who’s ‘WE’ Sharon, who else is involved in this?”
“Believe it or not, Big Don over there. He’s old school, Andy. Don fucking hates Barry for being a terrorist and Billy for being a child abuser. They make him sick to his stomach. Soon as Danny is out of the picture Big Don is going to take over and things will change.”
Andy saw this as his opportunity to escape, with Danny gone he could do as he pleased. “I’ll help but there are two conditions.”
“Okay, what?”
“One, nobody gets killed, we fit them up somehow, so they get banged up, they love Billy in Hull prison, and they’ll have a welcome party for him. Condition two, when this is over and Big Dons’ the boss, I’m free to go, no more card games.”
“I’ll talk to Don later tonight and get back to you,” whispered Sharon with a glint in her eyes.
The first of the cars began to arrive followed swiftly by the others. The bosses of each crime family liked to use Jaguar Sovereigns with a chauffeur driving and a large bodyguard sat upfront to intimidate anyone from having a go. Except for the Irish traveller family called the O’riordans, they travelled everywhere in Ford transit low loaders just in case they came across something of value that needed stealing. Their crime empire ran into millions per year, but old habits die hard with pikies so if the opportunity to pilfer presented itself, then it was taken.
Of cause, they were all armed and the Police had been told to stay away as the country's top criminal families arrived like royalty and began entering the pub to be welcomed by Danny and his henchmen.
The open arms and fake smiles could have come straight from a Hollywood charity function the acting was so good, but this is how it is done, each family hated each other and would love to take over their businesses, but they all knew they needed each other, one hand washes another as they say. After ten minutes of fake welcomes and the bottles of whiskey had been opened, the head of each family sat at the card table with Andy facing them knowing that if he fucked up Danny's orders, he would die a horrible death.
A new pack of cards was opened in front of everyone so they could see that they hadn't been tampered with and the atmosphere began to relax as the cards were shuffled by Andy. The aim of the game that Danny had demanded from Andy was to let each family win a reasonable amount of hands, then when plenty more of the whisky had been drunk and everyone was merry, Andy was to feed winning hands to Danny so he could clean everyone out, but by that time all crime business had been discussed and agreed upon and Danny makes a profitable night.
Andy reached for a new pack of cards and began unsealing them when all of a sudden the strangest sensation knocked him off balance and confused him, absolutely everyone in the room stopped moving, as if time had stopped still except for himself. Jonny O’riordan the family head of the traveller family changed his appearance in front of him and that little shit the Devil appeared in his place.
“Fucks Sake” exclaimed Andy in an angry tone. “The fuck do you want, haven't you caused enough trouble already?”
“Oh my sweet summer child, I can cause a lot more than this, but I'm here to give you a way out. If this card game goes against Danny, he will kill you and everyone you love, in horrible ways, but if you accept my very generous offer, I will guarantee that you are out of your part of the contract and you can live your life as you wish. What say you Andy, what say you? And the Devil looked at him with evil devious eyes.
“So what do you want, what's the deal?”
“All that I'm asking is that you betray your friends and I get their souls. You get to go free and live happily ever after, but I get your pals”.
“I'd rather burn in hell with you than do that, it's not gonna happen”.
“Very well, but let me assure you, I'm going to make you screw up this card game and watch as Danny works his painful magic on you”. The Devil flicked his left hand and in an instant, everyone in the pub began moving again as if nothing had happened. The Devil sat there, smirking at the thought of what Danny will be doing to Andy.
The shuffling of the cards commenced and each player received their cards. Andy knew exactly what he had dealt and to whom, his sacred knowledge of the marked cards was only known to him, if he could beat the Devil tonight, he could teach God to do the same and win his world back.
The game intensified, with the Devil doing his best to win, but Andy kept to the game plan allowing the families to win equally until all business had been discussed, once this happened he dealt winning hand after winning hand to Danny until he won everything. When the game ended Andy made his way home as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders.