The start of the weekly poker tournament at Ivan Angelov’s mansion was always a busy one. Players often went on the attack in the first couple of hours, knowing that they could rebuy and enjoy the atmosphere and free drinks that their host always provided. He loved it too. Angelov may not have been liked in the business world, or even that much by his own daughter, but free drinks and a big house kept a lot of his staff happy enough for another week of working to make him money. He enjoyed having the power to show them that once a week.

Angelov was a clever man, and his intelligence had not been dimmed by the passing years. It burned brightest whenever he was at the poker felt. He stood up, his brandy glass attached to his palm, his fingers curled upwards.

‘For the next hour, anyone winning with pocket queens will win an extra thousand chips!’ Ivan bellowed to the room. A muted cheer went up, mostly from those who had drunk as much as he had.

Sofia and Peter Serf spoke little during the first two hours, preferring to take turns to bully the table and accrue the chips which meant both were in it for the long run. Others fell by the wayside, mostly those who spent their nights working at Angelov’s nightclub, Glitter. Without Georgi there, a hole existed in the room, but those from the club tended to dance around it, while family members instigated discussions of his past. Peter Serf had not said a word about Georgi, and as the period of re-entry drew to an end, Sofia engaged him on the subject.

‘Had you met Georgi many times?’ asked Sofia, as the two of them went heads-up to a flop. Two spades. Serf bet. Sofia called holding a queen and ten in spades.

‘Never. I knew of him, of course. So many customers who arrive here ask for the local hotspots. We used to say that Glitter was the only place to go.’

Serf watched Sofia closely as the four of hearts dropped on the turn. No spade and a paired board. Sofia disliked the spread of cards and was doing everything she could to not let it show. Serf was now a big favorite to win the hand. She let her heartbeat drop and opted for a relaxed body position. Then she represented a made hand, taking over the betting.

Ivan Angelov stood again.  This time he was even less steady on his feet.

‘The re-entry period is over after this hand. The pocket queens bet still stands. So far, I’ve awarded a thousand chips to Miss Elena…’

Ivan groped around in his short-term memory for the dancer’s last name but came up short. Elena did quite the opposite, standing up and with a twirl, indicating that she was still in the game, and with a thousand more chips to play with.

Serf pondered his move. Lose the hand, and Sofia’s stack was such that he would be done for the night. Win and he would be the chip leader at the table, affording him the control to go towards the final table with ideas of winning the tournament.

‘It’s a big decision,’ Sofia said. Then a thought struck her.

‘Only used to?’

‘I’m sorry?’ Serf said, still considering his move in the face of the big bet.

‘You said you used to say Glitter was the place to be.’

‘Well, what I meant to say is that we always used to recommend it. That’s all. I meant nothing by it, though. I’ve not been there myself.’

‘Then how did you recommend it to your customers?’ asked Sofia. Serf still hadn’t called but absently tossed in the requisite chips purely out of embarrassment at making the table wait.

‘My wife visited it, if you must know. We decided to recommend it. It was one of a number of venues that we suggested to our patrons in leaflets before things went digital.’

Serf stopped talking abruptly and Sofia didn’t push him. It was clear that he was riled. When a third spade landed on the board and Sofia moved all in, he angrily called without considering that her flush had come in. A set did him no good and he stormed off to rebuy.

When he returned, holding his new chips in one hand, Serf walked to another table instead of hers.

Silvana, who was in charge of rebuys, looked over at Sofia and smiled.

Before too long, there were only a couple of tables left. The wake, such as it was, had broken up. A waitress from Glitter had won the pocket queens’ chips, and promptly lost them. Another player, a friend of Dimitar, had won a spot prize, a jacket belonging to Georgi, by playing a hand blind. He also became chip leader in the process. Ivan took the chips off him in regular installments until only eight players remained. The friend left the jacket with Dimitar, who wore it in Georgi’s honor at the redrawn final table.

Elena’s earlier win had sustained her through some ‘ABC’ poker to make the final table. Dimitar looked morose as if he was deep in thought. What about, Sofia had no idea. It could have been the collective grief they all felt for her brother, but she found Dimitar hard to read. He had an inscrutable face and a thick neck, always wearing a black hoodie and black biker jeans. To Sofia, it was like he wore a permanent forcefield.

The only other player who had made the final table that Sofia knew was her best friend, Saskia. Sofia hadn’t imagined that her friend would have survived so long, but the hairdresser, who fought off Ivan’s advances as they arrived to sit together, explained that she had been dealt aces no less than four times. That helped, Sofia thought.

At the final table, Sofia sat next to her father, who by this point was much worse for wear. The grief of losing his son had struck him at the same time as the alcohol he’d been sinking all night, and he was rambling almost incessantly about Georgi.

‘I loved my son like no-one else on Earth,’ he slurred, brandy slipping up and out of his glass and splashing onto the front of his shirt. He was raising virtually every hand, and the action was getting crazy. Ivan had half the chips in play.

‘Anyone who beats me heads-up will win double the top prize!’ he said to the table, and that focused matters for the seven players between him and victory. Even Sofia, whose determination to beat the other players around her was already huge, was bolstered by the thought that defeating her father for the win would make her a lot of money. She knew that would make Georgi happy.  Saskia sat opposite her, and throughout the action, seemed determined to catch the eye of Dimitar, but to no avail. He seemed focused on Sofia, his eyes burning into her from across the felt.

‘I’m playing for the win – how much is on the line here?’ asked Dimitar directly to Ivan.

‘Eight thousand euros. Enough compensation for becoming manager of the club?’

‘Who, me?’ Dimitar asked, pointing at his own chest.

‘Who else? You got rid of my son, now. Now you’re the big man.’

‘I did nothing to your son. I loved him like an older brother. He was my best friend.’

‘So how did he die?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know? Some friend you were.’

‘I heard he drowned.’

‘Georgi? Drowned? He was swimming since he was a baby. We threw him into the water when he was born, like they do in Russia, right?’ Ivan was looking around for his wife. He caught her eye as she came running to the table. ‘Anna?’

Sofia breathed in sharply. The name of her mother, of Ivan’s first wife, had come tumbling out of her father’s mouth, lubricated by alcohol.

Ivan turned back to the table and pretended he was interested in the game. The next hand, he raised, big enough to make sure that he’d see the flop, regardless of the calls or raises to come. But Silvana didn’t look past the slip of her husband’s tongue.

‘You got the name wrong, Ivan.’ She said, arriving at the table, an undercurrent of bitterness attached to every word.

‘I messed up. So what, I am grieving. I mean nothing by it.’

‘So often this is the way of it, Ivan. You say her name in your sleep? It means nothing. You mention her when talking of me It is affection misplaced. Now you call her out across the room.’

‘I call you. You! Was she from Russia? I was going to ask you about babies and swimming.’

‘I am a reference point for you. That is nice.’

‘It was only about Georgi.’ Ivan said, hoping the mention of his son’s name would throw cold water on her mood.

‘Georgi would swim as a baby?’

‘Every damn day. He wore us out. Wore me out. I didn’t mean any disrespect. You are my wife.’

‘Don’t you forget it.’ Silvana said. She wasn’t softening now, but her eyes hinted that she might later. She stalked off a little bounce in her step. Sofia thought it looked affected.

An orbit later, after Ivan had reduced the Glitter nightclub’s chances of winning and Saskia fell in sixth place, leaving only Dimitar, Ivan, Sofia, Elena and a business friend of the host.

‘You have so many chips, father.’ Said Sofia. ‘You enjoy taking people’s money, don’t you?’

‘It’s not the money, Sofia.’ He chided.

‘So play a hand blind.’ She replied. The table collectively inched forward in their seats.

‘Georgi’s jacket won’t fit me.’ He laughed. Then he looked at Dimitar, who sat in Georgi’s coat. The Glitter bouncer looked impassively ahead.

‘Don’t do it for me. Do it for my brother. Do it for your son.’

‘Sofia. I will do it for you.’ Ivan replied, and smiling, he set down his brandy glass and waited for the dealer to slide his two hole cards toward raised palms. Easily, he trapped the cards and held his cards.

‘Raise,’ he said, closing his eyes slowly and deliberately. ‘I’m all-in.’

Which was when the unmistakable sound of a bullet leaving a gun erupted around the cavernous room.

Dead by the River – Chapter 5

The players who had been sitting at the poker table jumped out of their seats as the explosion of gunfire filled the large room with a deafening noise. Sofia looked up in the direction of the blast to see one of the waitresses from Glitter in the doorway holding a long black rifle, the smoke still rising from the mouth of its barrel from which the bullet had been shot.
A stunned silence enveloped the room. A hole in the opposite wall of the room was evidence that a live round had been in the rifle.

‘Lisl!’ shouted Dimitar from the table, jumping up and running over to her. He wrenched the gun from her grasp, and she sank, drunkenly, against the doorway.
‘What are you doing with that?’ Ivan said, standing up with a little more difficulty and marching over to investigate.
He walked over to the girl, who Dimitar supported as he sat her down on an empty chair.
‘I found it in the study,’ she said, her voice shaking. ‘I was bringing it to you, Dimitar.’
‘To him? This is my house!’ bellowed Ivan. Silvana had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, to cling to her husband’s side. Sofia stood, leaving all the other poker players who had made the final table in their seats.
‘What are you doing with a rifle in the house, father?’ she asked.
‘I shoot with it. It’s not a toy. It wasn’t loaded!’ he said, snatching it at once. He opened it and released the magazine of bullets.
‘There are two bullets missing from this magazine, not one.’ He said. Everyone in the room looked around at the other players. The bullet hole sat, charcoal in color, in the center of a beige and gilt wall.
Sofia tilted her head at her father.
‘I swear to you Sofia. I do not keep a loaded gun in the house. Someone else put the bullets in that gun.’
‘Silvana?’ Sofia asked.
‘I dislike guns as much as you. I hate your father owning one, let alone shooting it with his friends.’
‘Which friends?’ Sofia asked.
It was at that moment that Peter Serf emerged from the direction of the study, passing across the open doorway and moving towards the main entrance in an effort to leave. He didn’t break his stride as he walked out of the house.
Ivan made no effort to stop him. The silence between Sofia and her father spoke more than words could. Dimitar comforted Lisl, who looked like she wanted to go home. Everyone did, except the players still at the table.
‘It has been a long night,’ said Ivan. ‘We will conclude the game. But for anyone else who has come tonight, the night is over. The cars are outside for you as usual.’
It was a weekly tradition. People filed into four waiting cars that Ivan hired, safe in the knowledge that they would be returned to their homes. Each car would drop players at their home and then return to carry out the next run. With a sweep of his hand, Ivan managed to clear the room except for those who had survived to the final eight, along with his wife Silvana and Saskia.
Saskia motioned to Sofia to ask her to come to her, but Sofia quickly shook her head. She opened her phone and texted Saskia.

Can’t talk now. Need to find out what I can while we’re still playing. Stick around…
I could use your eyes on the table Xx

Sofia watched as Saskia’s phone vibrate in her palm, then she read the message.

She looked disappointed at first, then looked up at Sofia and smiled in support of her. She stood with Silvana at the bar, chatting around twenty feet away from the action.
With only five players left and the room no longer filled with anyone on the self-imposed ‘rail’ of outer tables, the space felt empty and cavernous. Any words spoken at the table came out with the shadow of an echo at the end of them. It added meaning to everyone’s speech, but it also made the table focus on the remaining players. Everyone and everything felt closer, almost like they were in a locked room with the walls slowly closing in.
‘So,’ said Ivan, clapping his meaty hands together, where were we before my wallpaper became perforated?’
Of the five players, Ivan was the big chip leader and that didn’t change immediately. He quickly took care of his last remaining business associate, one of his fellow board members from a Bulgarian hedge fund. He was aggressive, but he got picked off when his move for twenty big blinds with pocket tens ran out of luck against Ivan’s ace-jack. An ace on the flop was all that Ivan needed to end the player’s night. Only Sofia, Dimitar and Elena from Glitter stood in the host’s way. He had as many chips as his three young opponents combined.
‘If this was a tournament, there’d be a battle to climb the places.’ Said Dimitar. ‘But I want the win for Georgi.’
‘We all want that.’ Sofia said. Elena started crying softly. Her eyes blinked back tears. Dimitar held out a hand for her to take, but she moved hers closer together away from his.
Sofia had presumed the two of them were close, but it appeared not. Was it a lovers’ tiff or something deeper? She realized then that she needed to go to Glitter.
‘After I beat my father and pay my rent, will you be going back to the club, Dimitar? It’s the last place I saw Georgi, I want to be close to him.’
‘I will go, yes, but I will beat you here first’, he said, the first hint of a smile on his face, but it was without the sparkle that someone truly happy might have shared.
‘It was also where my brother worked,’ Sofia continued. ‘Maybe something was awry with his business interests. People kill for money, you know, father.’
She looked pointedly at Silvana, who had remained by her husband’s side. If it was an attempt to goad the hosts, it didn’t work.
‘Now, Sofia, I’ll promise you this – a full investigation of Glitter, and all the other businesses that Georgi helped with. He financed a number of businesses with my blessing.’
‘He had free reign to invest your money?’
‘Not freedom like that, he ran things past me. At least I believed he did. He should never have ended his life dead by the river, however.
‘I got the impression that a friend of yours, Mr. Serf, was not happy with Georgi for some reason earlier.’
‘I don’t know what gave you that impression.’ Ivan said with a note of finality to his voice. He raised and saw all three of his opponents choose to call him only.
‘There are sharks in the water. You forget I am the whale and some whales can kill too.’

The flop was a colorful one, with a heart, a diamond and a club. All three cards were aces.
‘Who has the highest hand?’ asked Ivan. ‘Hmm. It would not be my daughter, she likes to mix it up. Dimitar? I think you have a good hand. But Elena, you were the last to call. Surely you only do so with a very good drawing hand. King-queen perhaps. You have hit a high board to bluff.’
‘I’m not bluffing,’ Elena said, wiping away her tears. ‘I’m all-in.’ Dimitar was quick to fold, but Ivan was going nowhere, and made the call. Sofia spun her cards face down into the muck.
Elena turned over pocket queens. Sofia raised her eyebrows. Saskia, close enough to see the cards, let out a small gasp. Dimitar and Ivan said nothing, but Sofia’s father turned over ace-five, for quad aces. Silvana’s face didn’t flicker. Sofia knew that she’d already seen Ivan’s cards.
‘That’s crazy.’ Said Dimitar. ‘It is set-up.’
Ivan Angelov looked like all the blood in his body had rushed into his face. He didn’t say a word, scooping in Elena’s chips instead, but the anger was coming off him in waves. Sofia raised the next hand, and Dimitar moved all-in. They were both short stacked; it seemed like a good idea to risk losing all her chips to stand a chance of playing her father heads-up with a decent stack.
Sofia turned over pocket eights.
‘The snowmen.’ Said Saskia at Sofia’s back. Dimitar turned over the ace-king of diamonds. It was a classic coinflip – both players having an almost equal chance of winning the hand.
‘Anyone fold an ace?’ Sofia asked hopefully. Ivan shook his head. Elena, still gathering up her bag and coat smiled at her and turned to go. She lingered on the fringes of the table, wanting to see which community cards fell.
The flop was more than kind to Sofia. Three low cards, as a four, five and seven fell. A gutshot straight draw and no sign of an ace or king. Only one diamond too. Another joined it on the turn, as the queen of diamonds dropped. Now Dimitar had a world of outs to fire at – three aces, three kings and any diamond.
The nine of diamonds fell on the river, giving Dimitar the flush and sending Sofia out of the tournament. She looked at her father, wondering if his rueful grin was in any way genuine.
Dimitar inched forward in his seat, a look of contempt on his face. He stared intently at Ivan.
Sofia thought that she had never seen someone more desperate to beat another at the poker table.

Dead by the River – Chapter 6

‘It’s never easy to win a game of heads-up poker.’ Ivan Angelov slurred.

He had way more chips than Dimitar, but the bouncer and barman seemed to grow in the jacket he had been wearing since the sixth level of play. At his side, Elena smiled encouragingly at him. She had only been dancing at the club for a couple of years, but she’d almost always played poker. It felt like an out-of-body experience to her that she was there – they were all there – without Georgi lighting up the room.

Georgi’s jacket. It didn’t fit him quite so neatly, thought Sofia to herself, watching from the bar with Saskia. The two of them sat together, Sofia on a seat at a poker table adjacent to the bar, riffling chips absently with a decent view of the table in front of her. Ivan sat to the left, Dimitar to the right. Silvana was acting as the dealer, having taken over when heads-up play began. Her maroon painted fingernails shimmered under the glow of late evening lights from the chandeliers above.

‘I am not only winning for myself, but for Georgi. He was my brother.’ Said Dimitar, looking over at Sofia. A guilty flash of emotion crossed his eyes at the word. Sofia’s smile softened. They were brothers. As long as Dimitar had been there at the club, he had idolized Georgi. In a way, everyone did. He had an aura that seemed to radiate warmth like a magnet; he brought others closer to him naturally. But she could still see the misty look in Dimitar’s eyes – he looked up to Georgi like he was an older brother to him as well. He had always wanted what Georgi had. She was surprised he didn’t already have his own jacket of the same design.

The early exchanges were peppered with barbed, drunken words from Ivan, but as he lost a few pots, the words dried up. His chip lead diminished a bit but he still had 75% of the chips on the table. Dimitar had started the duel with barely any hope but now there was a chance.

‘How much money is there for the winner?’ asked Ivan to his wife. Silvana spread the latest three-card flop with a flick of her wrist. Bangles of gold and silver bounced against each other with a muffled metallic chime.

‘$4,200 euros, my love,’ she smiled, her perfect teeth glimmering across the room.

Teeth my father paid for, thought Sofia.

Sofia could practically hear Dimitar trying to slow his breathing from three meters away. He needed the money, that much was clear in his expression alone. Sofia hated how her father used his money to hold power and control over those who had so much less than him.

Dimitar reached for a pile of chips.

‘However much it is, I’ll call your bet.’ Said Ivan, needling his young opponent.

‘400,000.’ Said Dimitar. Half of his stack.

‘I call. I’m a man of my word.’

‘I know you are. Good luck, Ivan.’

‘I don’t need luck. I have money.’

The flop was king-high. The king of diamonds stood out, sitting in the middle of two low black cards, the three and four of clubs.

‘I call your bet.’ Said Ivan, tapping the table to check.

‘Then I am all-in.’ Dimitar replied, pushing his single stack of chips over the line and towards the center of the felt.

Ivan called and turned over his cards – the five and six of diamonds. An open-ended straight draw. Dimitar quickly revealed a pair of black kings. He’s hit top set and any pair on the board now will give him an unassailable full house.

All of Dimitar’s chips were in the middle of the table. Silvana neatly stacked the pile of Ivan’s chips that Dimitar could win next to it. The chips would be even if the young bouncer could survive the turn and river.

‘How about we make this interesting?’ Ivan asked, edging his hand out towards his wife to pause the deal even though there was no official round of betting to come.

‘It’s already interesting to me, Ivan.’ Says Dimitar.

‘How about more interesting? If you win, I’ll make it €10,000. But if you lose, you get nothing.’

Dimitar had to think about it. It was serious money, a lot to risk, but a lot to gain.

‘My son, Georgi, would already have agreed to the proposal, you know that.’ Ivan gloated. ‘But then, my son had courage. He had stones.’

Ivan thumped his chest with a closed fist and Dimitar shook his head.

The ace of diamonds landed on the turn. Now Ivan had both a straight and a flush draw and Ivan asked again.

‘How about now?’ You are still a big favorite to win. 70%.’

Dimitar nods. He was almost 75% after the flop, but now, with only one card to come, his odds had gotten worse.

‘Let’s make it €20,000.’ Said Ivan. That number swung the balance. Dimitar nodded, Ivan stood up.

‘A nod is not a handshake. Let’s shake on it.’

The two men clasped their right palms together, Ivan looking into Dimitar’s eyes.

‘I said ‘I agree’.’ Said Dimitar.

‘I know you agree. The odds and the pot favor you. I just wanted to look into your eyes. See if you were capable of killing my son.’

At those words, Dimitar threw off the jacket in disgust, as Elena jumped in front of Dimitar to keep him away from Ivan. And while her physical presence was not enough to stop Dimitar, the emotion etched across her face was enough to hold him back from an act of violence.

Sofia has never seen him explode like that before.

Ivan sat down and instructed Silvana to deal the final card. The eight of diamonds. Ivan won with the nut flush.

‘I did not kill your son. But watch your back, old man!’ shouted Dimitar, who shrugged off Elena’s arms and hurried for the door without looking back.

‘Didn’t you know, Dimitar? Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.’ Says Ivan, reaching out his right hand and touching his wife Silvana’s left. He brushes his fingers across the solitaire-encrusted ring on the same finger as her wedding band.

Dimitar had already left, but Sofia was determined not to be too far behind him. Surely if things were going wrong at Glitter, then Dimitar would be even more reliant on Ivan’s support. He knew what Ivan was like, but still didn’t care. He just steamed out of the room, but why?

Sofia quickly said her goodbyes, leaving her father and Silvana in the room. On her way out of the door with Saskia, the two young women left arm in arm with only a quick look back from them both, Sofia noticed the rifle. It was laid over another table, inert now that the bullets had been removed from the gun’s magazine.

There were dark red marks on the trigger. Nail polish… or blood?

They arrived at Glitter at its peak time. The waiting staff who had come to the poker game were back at it. Serving drinks behind the bar and dancing on the stage like they had a night off, but everyone was there. In some ways, it was the hub of the North East quadrant of the capital city. All of humanity’s youth was represented there, paused and replayed endlessly through the staccato flashes of strobe lighting. A harsh beat blasted out of the speakers just a few feet to Sofia’s right. She could feel the

thrum-thrum-thrum

pulse in her stomach every time the beat came out of the speakers which towered over her.

‘We have to come here?’ asked Saskia. ‘I’m tired – aren’t you?’

Sofia grunted. She wasn’t tired, she was wired.

‘Go if you want to. This place is important, I know it. Something happened here. I need to find out what. Stay here and order two drinks. I’ll be right back.’

Saskia did as she was told, spinning around on the chrome stool to face the bar. Elena was serving someone else, a tall, mature man with greying hair. Saskia considered him for a free drink, but then the nearest barman asked what she fancied.

‘Two soda and limes’. She said. It was so loud that she had to shout it twice more before he heard her and went to pour the drinks.

Sofia knew the club well, but not like her brother. It took her a few minutes to negotiate the route to his office. When she got there, a bouncer stood directly in her path, but Sofia flashed him a smile. He stepped out of her way, not through attraction but fear – he knew who her father was, and that Georgi was dead. It was more than his job was worth to question the daughter of the man in charge of his livelihood.

Once inside the office, Sofia shut the door and made sure it was locked. She didn’t know her way around Glitter’s inner workings, but she could find her way around Georgi’s office. He was pretty organized and had things in the same places she might have. They had always thought alike and it was intuition that led her, within a couple of minutes, to the company accounts.  Glitter wasn’t making a huge profit. In fact, it was losing money. Not much, but a little could be enough to finish them off. With her father bankrolling it, however, it would always survive. But why was it only surviving? The profit margins looked good; they were charging the punters more than enough. Staff outlay was a little high, but drinks didn’t serve themselves, and having live dancers helped a lot in the city center.

Then she saw the payments. A series of them from the main company account to Georgi. Almost €30,000. A lot of money, and the difference between profit and loss. The money was coming from a series of payments from Ivan Angelov which was to keep stock coming in and pay for maintenance on the building, but the trail was inconsistent. The money came in slightly less money went out, but the club was still losing funds. The payments to Georgi had begun two years ago.

So where had the money gone? She looked across the desk at a small stone statuette of an angel. She’d never seen it before. It was on top of Georgi’s notepad, which had telephone messages, diary events, and other seemingly unrelated information inside. Sofia put the notepad into her handbag. The police would doubtless be here in due course and the office would be out of bounds.

Sofia quickly made her way back out through the office door, thanking the bouncer who locked it behind her. When she returned to the main dancefloor, she scanned the room. Elena was dancing on a small podium with a few of the other dancers. Neon lights flashed between their forms, casting them as silhouettes. They all seemed to look the same, like moving mannequins to Sofia. She missed Georgi’s profile. She would have known it anywhere.

Rounding the corner, she saw that Saskia had bought two drinks and was still at the same stall. Behind her, however, was a familiar face. A tall man, topped with smooth grey and black hair. He turned and smiled amiably in her direction.

Why was Peter Serf standing at the bar?

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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.

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Edited by Maury Orton and Shawn A.