Chapter 4

I let out an amused snort, noticing that it sounded substantially better than the racket coming off the stage. What in the world was this all about? I shook the envelope a bit more to make sure it was empty, then laid it flat on an open section of the table. I started to collect the documents into something resembling organization. My grandfather and I hadn't spoken in a very long time. For that matter, the rest of my family and I weren't on the best of terms, though apparently someone knew where I lived in order for Grandpa's law firm to find me. That was news to me, as our parting hadn't generated much in the way of forwarding addresses and fond wishes of farewell.

I finally managed to get the papers into a manageable heap and started to pick through. A cocktail waitress came by and asked me if I wanted a drink. Boy, did I ever, but unfortunately, lounge drinks cost, so I turned her down reluctantly. The papers were pretty straightforward. Birth certificate, some divorce papers, some memorabilia. I noticed with some interest a very thin book amongst the clutter that appeared to contain some baseball cards. I recognized the names on the cards and idly wondered if they might be worth some money or not. There were photographs of people I had never met, and a few pictures of a young boy who had Grandpa's eyes.

I had made it most of the way through the pile when I came across a grant deed, which upon further review made my grandpa the owner of 40 acres of land in Northern Virginia. Well, that was news to me. My family didn't have any history in Virginia that I knew of. I wondered who the property belonged to now. Almost certainly my brother Shane, as he had always been the 'do-right' brother. Well, good for him. I was pretty sure the cards in the book would be worth some money, and that was good enough to raise my spirits a bit. The great thing about Las Vegas, aside from the wonderful people and the sparkling cleanliness of the neighborhoods, is that it's the only known place in the universe where pawn shops outnumbered Starbucks. And I happened to know of a few places that dealt in anything, up to and including sports cards.

I popped open the envelope and balanced it on my lap as a practiced hand swept the papers back into it, first setting aside the book of cards with the keys that still lay there. I idly wondered about those keys, but nothing in the papers had mentioned anything about a car or a house. My best guess was that they were spare keys from one of his old houses, or something along those lines. Well, unless they were keys to some sort of Mercedes, or equally pawnable car, they were not my primary concern. I tucked the envelope away back into my inner pocket, then grabbed the keys and put them right beside it. The book I picked up gently, a small smile playing over my face, as I climbed to my feet and made for the exit, the last tones of the Jostlebumps dying in my ears a much unlamented death.

As I made my way to Benny's place, I pondered the cards. I knew very little about it, but the players' names on the cards were famous ones, and the cards appeared old enough to be collectables. I just needed to play it right to keep Benny from snowing me and I might just be able to make some good money off of this deal. I had dealt with Benny many times before, and each time I read him as best I could, but could never come out ahead because of the fact that I could never see anything associated with me.

This time would be different, I vowed to myself as I hit the buzzer at the entrance to Benny's place. The bars on the door were thick and scratched, but solid as a rock. The glass behind them had been broken three or four times and badly patched rather than replaced. Benny was not in this business for the aesthetics of it. Benny was about the bucks. A nice enough guy once you realized that fact, and one of the few who was able to totally rip you off without ever losing the smile off his face. And he was one of the good guys in town.

"Hey Lenny, that you?" the box next to the door squawked to life, at least three times too loudly. I waited while my heart made its leisurely way from my throat back down to where it belonged before answering. I looked up through the bars at Benny, staring down at me. I waved him a friendly greeting, then reconsidered and went ahead and extended my other four fingers. I could see him chortling as he pushed the button to let me through. I pushed my way through the door and into the shop.

Benny didn't move a muscle from his stool. He was a very large man, by which I mean that he was enormous. He had grown as far out as he could, and had started to expand to the sides. And he perched all of that weight perilously on a tiny little stool, which I had long decided had to be some sort of titanium alloy, as it showed no signs of stress as it supported Benny's tonnage year after year. He watched me closely as I made my way up to the counter. The whole way I cast my eyes left and right, looking in the cases to see if I could find something comparative to the cards I carried, to give me a ballpark of their value. I noticed a few sports cards in one case and slowed a bit to look at them, but they all looked far too recent to be any sort of benchmark.

My heart had started to beat faster as I approached the counter. Even though I had nothing to lose, it was the equivalent of entering a ring with Mike Tyson, or whoever was the current psychopath that they let loose in the ring these days. Benny had played the game as long as I had been alive, and always always came out ahead. He was ruthless and calculating, and knew every product there was. Hard not to like a guy like that, but not the sort of person you want to be across the bargaining table from.

"Whatcha got for me, Lenny?" Benny inquired. I always was surprised at his voice, even though I had heard it on many previous occasions. Benny possessed a remarkably high-pitched voice for a man of his girth, and it seemed totally incongruous considering the size of the man who created it.

"My Grandpa died and left me these, and I thought I'd see if you were interested at all." I replied, handing over the little book. I watched as closely as I could for any sign of reaction as he casually flipped it open and disinterestedly peered at the contents. He kept his impression one of mild distaste as he flipped the page, then flipped it back. He closed it up and handed it back to me.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear about your Grandpa, Lenny, but these cards ain't worth a damn. They're just run-of-the-mill cards, and they don't have enough value to even be displayed in my shop."

I knew this for what it was... a ruse, plain and simple. If I knew what they were worth, this was the part of the play where I would indignantly rebut his statement. If I was as clueless as he hoped I was, I would accept what he said. As I thought about this, I glanced at his face and realized I had taken too long. He knew exactly how much I knew, or should I say didn't know, about the little book in my hand.

"Of course, you've been a customer here before, Lenny, and I kinda like you. I know you've been on some hard times lately, with your hand and all, so I could probably take the whole book off your hand for 30 bucks. What do you say?"

"Benny, that... that seems a bit low to me." I rallied gamely, hoping the game wasn't already up as I noticed my hands tremble a bit. I hoped he hadn't seen it, but a small smile crept across his lips. He had me right where he wanted me. I sighed to myself and started to think about what I could do with 30 bucks. Benny had beaten me again, but then, that was nothing to be shamed of. What did I expect to happen?

I looked at Benny one more time and tried to tell myself his story. It happened in the blink of an eye, but to me it seemed to take it's sweet time. I could see Benny, laughing in his car as he talked on a cell phone. He was in great spirits and was heading home. He was talking to someone about how happy he was to finally be able to shut down the damn shop. He had finally made the score he had been looking for from day one. He laughed uproariously into the receiver and wished someone well, then hung up as he pulled into a parking space in front of the bank. He rushed in as fast as he could and headed for an open teller. I watched as Benny deposited $300,000 in cashier's checks into his account, with the look on his face of the cat who finally got that damn canary.