Murder on the Comprehensive Plan
by Shel Damsky

Chapter 1

“Damn it to hell, that hurt,” Gideon Pomeroy yelled at the passing car, since there didn’t seem to anybody else around at the corner of Dove and Madison.

The wasp, or whatever it was, had stung him on the ear just as he opened the door and went into the restaurant. He was surprised how much it hurt and cupped his hand over it when he kissed her and ordered a Johnny Walker Red.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“Got stung. How long you been waiting?”

“Not long. I’ve been watching that game they’re playing at the end of the bar. Everybody yelling and dollar bills passing back and forth. What is it?”

“Liar’s Poker.”

“How do you play it?”

“It’s harder to explain than play. It goes by the serial numbers on the bills and how well you can lie about the poker hand that’s in them.”

“Let me take some bills. I want to play.”

“You’ve never played before. You’ll get killed,” he said as he handed her all the singles he had, together with a couple of fives.

She went down the bar and he started another drink. Philly was behind the bar and he looked at her and shook his head. “That’s something,” he said. “Beautiful and smart as hell. How long you figure it’ll take her to clean them out?”

Gideon looked at his watch. “She’s never played before. Maybe a half-hour.”

The door opened and Duke Mason walked in. Known widely as “Duke the Cop”, nobody, including himself at times, realized that he actually had a first and last name. Big and beefy, he had the confident walk of somebody who had two guns somewhere on him. One in the usual shoulder holster, the other on his ankle, or knee, or wherever, a habit he had picked up back when he was on the Job. It had saved him the time he had gotten stabbed and couldn’t get to the shoulder holster. He didn’t talk much, but people tended to listen.

“What’s she playing?” Duke’s voice always sounded like it was coming from a very deep place.

“Liar’s Poker.”

“She know how?”

“No.”

“How long you figure she needs to clean house?” Philly asked

Duke thought for a minute. “There’s heavy money on the bar. I figure she needs maybe forty, forty five minutes.” He looked at Gideon. “What’s the matter with you? There’s blood running down your face.”

“And he’s running me out of cocktail napkins, trying to stop it” Philly said. “He should go to a doctor.”

“It’s just a bee sting,” Gideon said, when the beautiful woman came back with a fistful of dollar bills. He noticed that the game had broken up.

“Twenty minutes,” Philly said.

“Incidentally,” Gideon said. “I just got a new zoning case. Up North.”

 Duke took the napkin off Gideon’s ear and looked at it. “Yeah,” he said, slowly, “we better go.”

“Up North?” Gideon asked.

“To the doctor?” the beautiful woman asked. “Is it that bad?”

“No. To the station. Then maybe the hospital. The stupid-son-of-a- bitch doesn’t even know he’s been shot.”