We waited; then the knob turned with a squeak, and the door cracked open.
A blast of cigarette smoke; the roar of a crowd. Uncouth sounding voices shouting and cheering in the background, and peering through the cracked doorframe was a bouncer, nearly two meters tall, glaring impassively down at us.
This lasted barely a moment.
“Head on in,” the bouncer grunted. He stepped aside, and Haruhi led us through the door.
When she tried to go farther, he stopped her.
“Wait. Hand over your weapons.”
He was the bouncer and the security guard.
Did we have weapons? I guess we’d been carrying Colt Peacemakers earlier, but I no longer had a gun belt on. I patted myself down and realized there was a shoulder holster under my suit.
I stuck my hand in and found the heft of a Colt Government. Same company, but it had gone from a revolver to a semiauto.
Haruhi went, “Huh.” Looking it over. Asahina juggled hers again. Nagato handed hers over with smooth movements, and Koizumi with a shrug.
The bouncer held all five guns with ease, then jerked his chin once and stalked away.
Pushing through so much smoke it felt like walking through clouds, we reached a giant round table at the center. There sat a heavyset man holding a rocks glass filled with ice in one hand. At our approach, he shot us a snakelike smile.
A well-tailored dark suit, black tie—dressed almost exactly like us, but he wore it way better. Definitely had the bearing of a man who’d quickly climbed the ladder.
I took in our surroundings.
This was certainly a speakeasy. There was a bar at the back, and a stone-faced bartender polishing glasses. A fairly large interior crammed full of round tables, from which sprang forests of half-finished bottles. The stench of booze was enough to make me woozy, but the smoke still overpowered it—nearly everyone here was smoking either a cigarette or a cigar.
They all wore dark suits, too. The mob had this speakeasy rented out. Perhaps there were investors and business affiliates among them—these folks were just as unsavory. The old man had said this was the Prohibition era—so everything happening here was guaranteed to be illegal.
“Boss,” the bouncer said. He leaned in to whisper in the snake’s ear, then went back to his post. He dumped the pile of Colt Governments on a table along the way. Didn’t really want to use those, so I had no complaints about being unarmed.
The snakelike boss said, “So you’re the upstart SOS Family?”
Even his voice sounded like a reptile trying to talk.
I was wondering if family was any better than brigade, really, when Haruhi thumped her chest.
“That’ll work,” she said. “We’re certainly as close as any family.”
The snake’s eyes narrowed.
“Resorting to using kids like you—they must be getting real desperate. Am I right, boys?!”
He waved to the crowd, and a sneering laugh went up. He let that continue a solid ten seconds, then dropped his hand.
The laughter stopped immediately.
“Have a seat.”
He waved to a single chair, and Haruhi didn’t hesitate to claim that as her own.
“I won’t need a drink,” she said with a charming smile. “Looks like you only serve booze, so I’m good. I just remembered swearing a vow to myself to never again get so drunk I lose any memories. Also, if you don’t mind me saying, Prohibition was definitely a terrible piece of legislation, but rather than breaking the law, you should really go through the proper political channels to advocate for their repeal.”
Mm? Something about that tugged at my mind.
I felt like something she’d said was too important to miss. But I wasn’t sure what. Terrible legislation? Not that. Breaking the law? Not that either. Political channels? Definitely not it. Her memories…no, not that either. Then what? What was nagging at me?
Despite my doubts, Haruhi and the boss continued their conversation.
“I hear we’re set for a wager,” Haruhi said. “We just betting the couple you kidnapped?”
“Naturally, not just them.”
The man knocked back his drink. One of his minions tipped a bottle, refilling it. In black-and-white, it was hard to tell, but I imagine the drink was amber-colored.
“If we win, your employer’s turf will belong to our family. Every last acre of it. The illegal casino, the moonshine factory, the café speakeasy—all their territory. Whether we win or lose, the hostages go free. We only extended them our hospitality to bring your side to the table. We just want peaceful negotiations. Won’t find a more honest guy than me. Am I right, boys?!”
Another round of phony laughter that stopped the moment he put his hand up. Was this a skit?
Haruhi looked like someone with a front-row seat to the world’s worst comedy act.
“I think I’m starting to catch the drift,” she said. “So what are we betting on?”
“Poker.”
He pulled a pack of cards from his suit pocket and dropped the deck on the table.
“Rules are short and sweet. Five cards dealt, one chance to trade ’em. Whoever has the better hand wins. No jokers, no bluffs, no chips. Capisce?”
Haruhi looked at the cards.
“Sure, that’ll work. If anything, I’m surprised that’ll satisfy you.”
“Care to inspect the cards, little lady? Don’t want you accusing us of cheating later.”
Haruhi responded with a smile like a midsummer sunflower.
“Just tell me this. What’s the strongest hand in poker?”
“You don’t even know that?! That’d be a royal straight flush, of course! Not that you’ll ever get one. Am I right, boys?!”
Another ten-second guffaw, stopping on a dime.
By this point, I’d entirely lost track of what had been bothering me. It had wriggled out of my hands like an eel, leaving me gaping on the riverbank. Every second the evidence grew fainter.
Damn, I can’t remember.
……Remember what? What did I even need to remember?