Dead Beat – Chapter 8.1
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The phone call was on hold in the casino office, a gray room that was completely opposite the neon-lit games room of the lower deck. The office was a sharp contrast, with its dull, muted tones and cluttered atmosphere. Dimitar almost tripped over a bulky printer that awkwardly sat on the floor of the outer office, its cord snaking across the carpet. The room felt cramped. Two mismatched chairs and a filing cabinet jostled for space around a single desk that had been awkwardly split into two cramped workstations. Papers and folders teetered precariously on every available surface, threatening to avalanche at the slightest disturbance. In the corner of the room, a small sink, stained and chipped, doubled as a tea and coffee station, with an old kettle balanced close by that was riddled with limescale. The setup looked like it hadn’t been updated in years.
On the desk, between mountains of paperwork that looked like they had been accumulating for decades, sat a cordless phone, the receiver carefully balanced on a stack of papers. Dimitar grabbed it, his hand trembling slightly and put it to his ear.
‘Sofia? What is it?’ he asked, his voice a mix of impatience and dread.
‘Dimitar. It’s about Elena,’ Sofia’s voice came through, tinged with a serious tone that made his heart sink.
His mind immediately started to swim with horrific fantasies, presenting the worst possible scenario in vivid detail. Had they found her body? Had Serf been stringing him along the whole time, leading him on a wild goose chase? The room suddenly felt very hot, the air thick and stifling.
‘Is she OK? Has she been found?’ His voice cracked with desperation.
‘Nothing like that. I’m so sorry, I know how worried you are and I should have started this better. I wanted to let you know that my father hired an investigator. And this guy is good. If he was a poker player, he would have notes on all the players and exact reads for everyone at the table,’ Sofia explained, trying to provide some reassurance.
Dimitar let out an audible sigh of relief. ‘I’m so glad to hear that, but next time, please don’t start the conversation that way,” he stated, a bit more aggressively than needed. “So, what did he find?’ Dimitar pressed, hoping for something, anything, to cling to.
‘He found a ‘digital fingerprint’ – that’s what he called it. Elena’s credit card had been used in Germany. First near the Autobahn, then a couple of times in the city of Cologne. Once in a restaurant, then later in a bar. Over two hundred Euros in one day,’ she said, laying out the facts for Dimitar, hoping it would give him some clue.
‘What? That makes no sense. Why would they go drinking in Germany after fleeing the scene? Serf is evil, but he’s not an idiot. He knew he had to get them away from there. He went to England; I know he did. When is this detective saying that they were in Germany?’ Dimitar’s mind raced, trying to make sense of the new information.
‘He’s not saying when. But the card was used in Germany. I just wanted to let you know. Don’t jump to any conclusions about anything as to where Serf and Elena are. If I hear anything more, I’ll call you,’ Sofia advised, her voice firm yet gentle. “And I promise to start the next conversation in a better manner.”
‘Thanks, and sorry for getting angry. I didn’t mean to take anything out on you, I know you’re just trying to help. Maybe she dropped it along the way, possibly as a clue’ Dimitar speculated, though the idea seemed far-fetched.
‘Like a breadcrumb from a fairy tale?’ Sofia suggested.
‘Maybe. Or maybe Serf tossed it out of the car as they drove through Europe,’ he mused, trying to piece together the puzzle.
‘Possibly. How’s the money looking? Are you close to the million you need to find Elena and get her back?’ Sofia shifted the conversation.
‘I’ve got €30,000 so far,’ Dimitar admitted with a hint of frustration in his voice.
‘I thought you were up more. Sam had said…’ Sofia began, confusion creeping in.
‘I was. I took a risk,’ he confessed.
‘Dimitar, you…what?’ she asked, incredulous.
‘Serf sent me a private message and invited to an online game, so I took him on. Unfortunately, he smoked me. But we may have gotten a clue to where Elena is being held. Marseille. I’m heading there now,’ Dimitar explained, his determination unwavering.
‘I know. Sam again,’ Sofia said, her tone softening. “But he didn’t mention the online game.”
‘He’s been very helpful to me… well, at least since this whole thing began. You miss him, don’t you?’ Dimitar probed gently, trying to get his mind off his immediate problems.
‘This isn’t about me, Dimitar. I don’t know what Sam thinks of me. And right now we have to focus on Elena,’ she deflected, keeping her focus on the mission.
‘So are they on board?’ Dimitar asked, steering the conversation back to the main problem.
About the Author: Paul Seaton has written about poker for over 10 years, interviewing some of the best players ever to play the game such as Daniel Negreanu, Johnny Chan and Phil Hellmuth. Over the years, Paul has reported live from tournaments such as the World Series of Poker in Las Vegas and the European Poker Tour. He has also written for other poker brands where he was Head of Media, as well as BLUFF magazine, where he was Editor.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.
