Read Online Damnation Road by Max McCoy - Free Book Online Page B

behind the bar, then downed the rye. He made a face and poured himself another. “For Christsake, Penny, leave the man alone. Go away for a while and come back when it’s time for your show.”
    The woman frowned, then turned back to Gamble.
    â€œDon’t I know you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYou sure look familiar.”
    â€œEverybody says so.”
    â€œWhy are you so cold?” she asked, drawing one of the cards from the middle of the fanned deck with her forefinger. But instead of flipping it over, she kept her forefinger on it.
    â€œNow you.”
    Gamble hesitated.
    â€œI don’t play except for money.”
    â€œHow about a sawbuck?”
    â€œShow me coin or paper.”
    â€œI don’t have it now, but I will, after the show.”
    â€œWhat kind of show is it?”
    â€œOh,” she said, slyly, “You’ll just have to see it to believe it. Ten bucks. What do you say?”
    â€œTen dollars, on credit? I don’t think so.”
    â€œI’m good for it. In fact, Old Buell will advance me the money, right?”
    Buell waved.
    â€œAll right,” Gamble said.
    He pulled a card from the left side of the deck and turned it over, not looking at it until the motion was complete. It was the one-eyed Jack of Spades.
    The woman turned over her card.
    The four of clubs.
    â€œDamn,” she said. “I am the unluckiest woman in the world. Double or nothing?”
    â€œNo,” Gamble said. “Buell?”
    Buell poured another shot of rye. Then he took an eagle from his pocket and gave it a toss. Gamble caught the gold coin and closed his fist tight around it.
    â€œThanks for playing,” he said.
    The woman turned and walked out.
    Buell walked over to the table with the bottle of rye and two shot glasses in his hand. He placed the cleaner one in front of Gamble, filled it, then refilled his own glass.
    Gamble took a silver dollar from his pocket and slid it toward Buell.
    â€œYour cut,” he said. “Tell me about that woman.”
    â€œPenny Dreadful?” Buell asked. “She’s the highest-priced whore on the Porch, a dope fiend, and a woman who is in the prolonged act of suicide. Don’t know her real name, but I hear tell she came here from Denver, where she was married to a big shot banker and bore him a baby boy. But the child was colicky and cried all the time, which upset the husband, and Penny was frantic to find a way to restore wedded bliss. So to quiet the baby, she began giving it a patent medicine to put it to sleep. Problem was, the medicine was ten parts sugar and water and one part alcohol and morphine. After a week, she finally gave the baby just enough so that it never woke up at all.”
    Gamble sipped the rye.
    â€œThe husband accused her of poisoning the child and the prosecutor tried her for murder, but the jury leaned for accidental,” Buell said. “But they might as well have locked her up, because her husband divorced her and drove her to the streets. Nobody in Denver would have anything to do with her. So, she is making money the old-fashioned way.”
    â€œWhat’s this show tonight?”
    Buell grinned.
    â€œPenny doesn’t just want to kill herself, she wants to debase herself in the worst ways first. That’s a powerful hate she has for herself, but it’s powerful lucky for me. Along about midnight, when the boys are gambled out, we’ll throw a tarpaulin over the craps table and turn the lamps up real bright. Then Penny will climb up there and take all comers. Those that can’t pay to do will pay to watch.”
    â€œChrist,” Gamble said.
    â€œI’m sure there’ll be a special show tonight, seeing as how it is New Year’s Eve.”
    â€œAnd you allow her do this.”
    â€œAllow her?” Buell asked. “I encourage her. You understand that I am a pimp and a whiskey peddler and run an illegal gambling establishment out of a