Introductions were made, with Rufus telling the sucker and his backers that Valentine was “an ex-police detective from the fair state of New Jersey who I asked to be here to keep things honest.” The sucker eyed Valentine skeptically, as did the hairy legs.
Valentine nodded politely to them.
“I want to establish some rules before we start,” the sucker said.
“By all means,” Rufus replied.
“First of all, we get to provide the sugar cubes. We’ll put them on the table, then you get to pick which cube you think the fly will land on.”
“How many sugar cubes do you want to put on the table?” Rufus asked.
“Ten,” the sucker said.
“That’s a lot.”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it makes it harder. Let’s make the bet twenty thousand,” Rufus said.
The sucker’s mouth dropped down, as did his backers’ mouths.
“You want to bet twenty thousand dollars instead of ten thousand?” the sucker said.
“That’s right,” Rufus replied. “If you put ten sugar cubes on the table, it will be harder for me to persuade the fly to land on a particular one. I’m willing to take the gamble, provided we bet twenty thousand dollars on the outcome. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”
One of the hairy legs let out a laugh. “Sure, why not?”
“There’s one other stipulation,” the sucker said. “We get to provide the fly.”
Rufus tilted his Stetson back like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Excuse me, son, but I figured we’d use one of the flies that was buzzing around the place. It’s never too hard to find a fly inside a casino, you know.”
The sucker shook his head. It was obvious he’d thought this out, and decided that Rufus was somehow going to provide a trained fly to win the wager. They were standing beside a round table with a tablecloth draped over it, and the sucker reached beneath the table, and triumphantly came up with a glass mayonnaise jar. The jar had the lid on, into which were poked several airholes. Buzzing around inside the jar was a large house fly.
“We’ll use this one,” the sucker said.
Rufus extended his hand, and the sucker handed him the jar. The old cowboy stared at the buzzing fly, then held the jar up to the light, and stared some more. After some thoughtful consideration, he handed the jar back to the sucker.
“You’re on,” Rufus said.
Rufus explained to the sucker that he was going to have to hypnotize the fly, and would need at least five minutes in order to do so. The sucker agreed, and placed the mayonnaise jar on the center of the table. Rufus sat down at the table, and stared into the jar while the fly flew around making an angry buzzing sound.
Valentine removed Gloria Curtis’s business card from his wallet and retreated to the corner of the room. He flipped open his cell phone and punched in her number. She answered on the second ring, and sounded like she was in a restaurant.
“I’ve got a neat human interest story for you,” he said.
“That was fast,” she said.
“Come to the first side room next to where the tournament is being played. And bring a cameraman with you.”
“I’m in the restaurant across the lobby, having lunch with my cameraman,” she said. “We’ll be right over.”
Gloria and her cameraman appeared sixty seconds later. Valentine cornered them, and got them out of earshot of the sucker and his backers. Standing in the corner of the room, he explained Rufus’s bet and the sucker’s stipulations, then explained how Rufus was hypnotizing the fly to do his bidding. Gloria looked at him like he’d lost his mind.
“Excuse me, but you think this is suitable for TV?” she said, sounding more than a little put out. “For Christ’s sake, Tony, we don’t put crazy people on.”
“He’s crazy like a fox,” Valentine said. “Rufus will win, trust me.”
“But how?”
“I have no idea, but he will.”
Gloria pointed at the sucker standing on the other side of the room. “That’s Benjamin Gannon. He’s a graduate of MIT, and a bona fide mathematical genius. I’m sure he’s looked at every angle there is with this bet, and knows he can’t lose. Rufus Steele is going to look like a fool. I’m not going to televise that.”
She was really annoyed, and her cameraman seemed to mirror her feelings. He was a young guy, and wore a gold earring in each ear like a pirate. Valentine guessed they had never heard the Damon Runyon tale about the gambler betting the farmer that he had a deck of cards where the jack of spades would spit cider in your ear, and the farmer taking the bet, and proceeding to get an earful of cider. He made them both sit down, and explained what was going on.
“Rufus is pulling the hook, line, and sinker. Rufus met Gannon during the first day of the tournament. My guess is, there was a fly buzzing around, and Rufus made some offhand remark about flies being able to be trained. That’s the hook. Then, Rufus wondered whether flies really could be trained. He tells Gannon he might have found a way. He knows Gannon is a genius, and will think he’s crazy. That’s the line, and Gannon bit on it. Now Rufus is performing the sinker. He’s gotten Gannon’s backers to double the bet, and if any more suckers come into the room, he’ll get them to make wagers as well. That’s how the game is played, and Rufus is a master at it.”
“But you’re leaving the most crucial part out,” Gloria said. “How does Rufus make the fly land on the sugar cube?”
Rufus had risen from his chair, and was looking around the room for him. The fly was still buzzing around the mayo jar, looking no more hypnotized than when Rufus started staring at him. Valentine saw a smile crease the old cowboy’s lips.
“I think we’re about to find out,” Valentine said.
“Okay cowboys and cowgirls, I’m ready,” Rufus declared.
By now there were fifty-plus people in the room. Gloria got them to bunch up behind Rufus, which made the group look much bigger. She stuck her microphone into Rufus’s face, and tried to get him to say a few words.
“Sorry, ma’am, but this takes a lot of concentration,” he said.
The sucker tore open a box of sugar cubes. He removed ten, and laid them across the table in a line. Rufus took a plastic coffee stirrer from his shirt pocket. It had been resting there all along, and Valentine had not paid any attention to it. Rufus said, “Okay, now here’s the deal. Everyone has to be clear on which sugar cube you want the fly to land on beforethe fly is released from the jar. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” the sucker replied.
“Good. Now, which one do you want? And you can’t change your mind, and confuse things. Whichever cube you pick, that’s the one the fly lands on. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Then let’s go. Which cube do you want, son?”
“Third from the left,” the sucker said.
“Your left, or my left?”
“My left.”
Rufus brought the tip of the coffee stirrer directly above the sugar cube that was third from the sucker’s left. “You mean this one, son?”
“That one,” the sucker said.
Gloria stood between them, moving her microphone back and forth as they spoke. She was cool under pressure, and reminded Valentine of a referee at a boxing match. You knew they were there, yet paid no attention to them. Rufus put the stirrer back into his shirt pocket. Then he picked up the mayo jar from the table. Staring into it, he said, “Third from hisleft, pardner.”
He handed the mayo jar to the sucker.
“You open it, son. Good luck.”
The sucker carefully unscrewed the jar, and allowed the inmate to escape. The fly flew around their heads like an angry kamikaze, causing several gamblers to duck. The fly flew straight up, and did several circles above their heads. Finally, its wings lost their steam, and it descended upon the table, where it landed upon the sugar cube third from the sucker’s left. Gloria was filming the table when it happened, and got a shot for the ages. The sucker’s mouth dropped open and his pink tongue fell out. One earful of cider, coming right up!