"Beijing Craps" - читать интересную книгу автора (Masterton Graham)

All of them, however, shared something in common. They all wore loose Chinese robes, of gleaming black silk, with fire-breathing dragons embroidered on the back, and the name Nu Kua in red silk italics.

'Come,' said the Chinese girl, and led Jack and Solly toward the table.

Jack was fascinated to see that the dice appeared to glow fluorescently in the darkness; and that when they were thrown, they left glowing patterns in the air. Solly watched the game over his shoulder for a while, and then murmured, 'What the hell kind of craps is that?'

Jack looked around the table. 'I'm supposed to be talking to Mr Graf,' he said, loudly.

The blond-headed boy left his place and came around the table, smiling and holding out his hand in greeting. He looked no older than five or six.

Jack smiled. 'How's tricks, kid?'

'I'm Nevvar Graf,' the boy told him, in an unbroken but carefully-modulated voice.

'Sure and I'm Tammy Wynette.'

The boy continued to hold out his hand. 'You don't believe me?' he asked, tilting his head to one side.

'Nevvar Graf has owned the Golden Lode Casino for twenty years, minimum. He's just about old enough to be your grandfather.'

The boy smiled. 'There are more things on heaven and earth, Horatio.'

'Oh, sure,' Jack nodded. 'Now is Mr Graf here, because if not, I intend to leave.'

'I told you, Mr Druce, I'm Nevvar Graf.'

There was something in the tone of the boy's voice that caught Jack's attention. Something far too commanding for a boy of five. And how did he know Jack's name? Jack took off his spectacles and folded them and tucked them slowly into his pocket.

The boy said, 'I'm Nevvar Graf, and you're Jack Druce. I've been watching you for years, Mr Druce. You're good, one of the best arms in the business. Everybody knows Jack Druce. It's always beaten me why you dress so crummy, and talk so dumb, when everybody knows who you are. You saw Carlos downstairs? The minute you leave the Golden Lode, Carlos always gets on to the radio-transmitter and warns the doorman at the Diamond Saloon.'

Jack said, hoarsely, 'Young fellow, I don't know what the hell you think you're playing at, but my name is Keith Kovacs, and I came here from Illinois for the week to gamble a few hundred dollars, just like I've always promised myself; and when my money's all gone, I'll be gone, too.

'Jack Druce?' he added. 'I never even heard of anybody called Jack Druce.'

The boy popped his knuckles, one by one. 'You see that game going on behind me?'

'I see it,' said Jack. 'Some kind of fancy dice.'

'Beijing Craps,' the boy told him, with a smile.

Jack shook his head. 'Never heard of it.'

'Never heard of it, huh?' The boy turned to Solly, and said, 'Have you heard of it? Beijing Craps?'

Solly nervously sniffed, and lowered his eyes. 'Sure. I've heard of it.'

The boy circled around Jack and took hold of Solly's hand. 'Solly Bartholomew,' he said, in that piping voice. 'The greatest arm in the east. The scourge of the Atlantic City boardwalk.'

Solly didn't attempt to deny it. He stood holding the boy's hand with his eyes on the carpet and said nothing.