{"id":1035,"date":"2026-01-03T21:10:01","date_gmt":"2026-01-03T21:10:01","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/a-gambling-man-baldacci-david\/"},"modified":"2026-01-03T21:10:01","modified_gmt":"2026-01-03T21:10:01","slug":"a-gambling-man-baldacci-david","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/epub-book.com\/download\/a-gambling-man-baldacci-david\/","title":{"rendered":"A Gambling Man – Baldacci, David"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Book Preview<\/h3>\n
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Chapter 1<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

WITH A NEW DECADE LOOMING,<\/span> Aloysius Archer was on a creaky bus headed west to California to seek as much of a life as someone like him could reasonably expect. A roof over his head, three squares a day, a pint of decent liquor every now and then, and a steady supply of his Lucky Strikes to keep his mouth supple and amused. And a job. Actually, more of a profession. He needed that right now. It was like seeking water while in a desert, you just required it and didn\u2019t care how you got it. Otherwise, he\u2019d be a chump, and there was no future in that.<\/p>\n

He took off his hat and swiped at his short, dark hair before resettling the fedora into place.<\/p>\n

Hell, maybe I am shooting for the moon after all. But why not?<\/i><\/p>\n

Archer wasn\u2019t yet thirty. After fighting in the Second World War, he\u2019d spent time in prison for a crime of which he was essentially innocent, though the law hadn\u2019t recognized such nuance and stuck him behind bars anyway. However, he would<\/i> have gladly pled guilty to a charge of gross stupidity. It had involved a woman, and Archer just seemed to lose all of his common sense when they were around.<\/p>\n

He was a little over six-one, and his frame had been hardened first by the Army and then by prison, where the strong didn\u2019t necessarily survive, but such an attribute certainly improved your chances. He had a serviceable brain, quick-enough wits, and a work ethic deep enough to carve a good life somewhere given the chance. Archer was hoping to find that opportunity in a town on the water in California where he was eager to start his new phase in life under the tutelage of a veteran private eye named Willie Dash.<\/p>\n

But first, he had to get there. And these days, nothing was easy, particularly long-distance travel across a country that was so big it never seemed to end.<\/p>\n

He looked out of the bus\u2019s grimy window and eyed the street-spanning metal sign they were passing under:<\/p>\n

RENO THE BIGGEST LITTLE CITY IN THE WORLD<\/span><\/p>\n

He had no idea what that meant, but it sounded intriguing. They pulled into the bus terminal and he grabbed from the overhead rack his large, brand-new leather satchel. He had on a two-piece tan wool pinstripe suit, with a patterned green single-Windsor-knotted tie, fronting a starched white shirt and topped by his crown-dented fedora with a brown band. Everything else he owned in the world was in the satchel. It wasn\u2019t much, but it was a lot more than he\u2019d had when the prison doors had opened not that long ago.<\/p>\n

He got a recommendation on a place to stay the night from a gal behind the bus counter with blonde hair that wrapped around her neck like a naughty mink stole and mischievous blue eyes to match. She had a curvaceous figure that reminded him of the photo of a swimsuit-clad Ava Gardner he had kept in his helmet during the war. After telling her he was headed to California, she handed him a map, along with a recommendation for where to grab his dinner.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy name\u2019s Ginger,\u201d she said with a broad smile. \u201cMaybe I\u2019ll see you around town later.\u201d<\/p>\n

He doffed his hat to her, returned the smile, and trudged on, his grin fading to a grimace. He didn\u2019t care if she was Ginger Rogers, he was keeping his distance, naughty hair and eyes be damned.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou look lost, soldier,\u201d said the voice.<\/p>\n

Archer was outside the depot now, fully immersed in the delicious heat that seeped up from the pavement and gave him a hug. The speaker was a man in his late sixties, straight as a rake, thin as a lathe, with tumbleweed-white hair and a fluffy mustache that dipped nearly to his chin. He had on a dark suit that needed a good sponging and a creased black hat with a soiled burgundy band. A silver watch chain spanned his dappled white vest, which covered a sunken chest and belly.<\/p>\n

Archer put his satchel down on the pavement, pulled a half-full pack of Lucky Strikes from his pocket, struck a match on the bottom of his shoe, and lit the end of the cigarette. He waved the spent match like a sparkler and tossed it down. The man looked so lustfully at his smoke that Archer slid one out and offered it to him. He accepted with gratitude on his features and used a dented chrome lighter to do the honors. They puffed for a bit, each squinting at the other through the spawned, mingled fog of twin Luckys.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust in town,\u201d replied Archer with a bit of a shiver as the sun began its descent after a hard day\u2019s labor, and the heat shriveled down into the pavement like a receding flame.<\/p>\n

The man eyed both the satchel and the bus depot behind and nodded. \u201cCan see that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I\u2019m not lost. Just going to my hotel.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDidn\u2019t mean geographically. More metaphorically.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sound educated, or are you just fortunate with how words spill out of your mouth?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTime fills your head up, if you allow it. Some don\u2019t. They just put a lid on and end their life as they began it, ignorant as babies.\u201d He put out a shaky, thinly veined hand with dark spots here and there. \u201cI\u2019m Robert Howells, but my friends and some of my enemies call me Bobby H. And you are?\u201d<\/p>\n

Archer shook his hand but said, \u201cWhy do you want to know?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust making small talk, son, don\u2019t get jumpy on me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI go by Archer.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour first time in Reno?\u201d asked Howells.<\/p>\n

Archer puffed on his smoke and nodded slowly. \u201cJust passing through.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOn to California? San Fran? Los Angeles? That\u2019s where Hollywood is. Most beautiful women in the world. Streets paved with gold, and the water tastes like wine.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd none of that is true.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot a bit. Well, maybe the gals. But they ain\u2019t free, son. And there goes all my standard conversation right out the window.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFact is, I am<\/i> heading to California, but it\u2019s a place north of Los Angeles. According to the Rand McNally.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have a certain look the camera might find interesting. Maybe I\u2019m staring at the next Gary Cooper?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have no interest in being the next Gary Cooper or looking into cameras. I\u2019m not saying I can\u2019t act, because I pretty much do every time I open my mouth.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is<\/i> your ambition then?\u201d<\/p>\n

Archer finished his smoke and patted it dead on the pavement with the heel of his right wingtip. \u201cNo offense, Bobby H, but I don\u2019t know you. And trouble with strangers is not something I\u2019m casting about for.\u201d<\/p>\n

Howells frowned. \u201cYou seem closer to my age, at least in your lack of adventurous nature.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take that as a compliment.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you know why they call Reno the biggest little city in the world?\u201d<\/p>\n

Archer shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s because you can get whatever New York or Philadelphia or Boston or even Los Angeles can provide.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what do you think I want?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do most young men want after a war? You fought, I take it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s nearly five years gone by now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut it was a big war with long legs. We won\u2019t be forgetting it anytime soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what do<\/i> I want?\u201d Archer asked again.<\/p>\n

\u201cA good time with no duties appurtenant thereto.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAppurtenant<\/i>? Now you sound like a lawyer. They run second to dead last in popularity with me to undertakers. And it\u2019s a long way up from there.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you wish a good time with no consequences?\u201d<\/p>\n

Archer wondered if the old man was drunk or doped or both. \u201cI never assumed there was such a thing.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn Reno there is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, good for Reno. And what do you get out of telling me that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t believe in generosity for generosity\u2019s sake?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd I don\u2019t believe in Santa or pennies from Heaven either. Ever since age seven.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor a young man you seem old and gray in spirit.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd getting older every minute I\u2019m standing here gabbing with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe passion of youth has been smote clean from you, and that\u2019s a damn shame, son.\u201d<\/p>\n

Archer lit another Lucky and eyed the man, awaiting his next move. It was at least passing the time in the biggest little city on earth.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, I can understand your cynicism. But let me make another observation. One that has personal advantages to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Archer flashed a grin. \u201cNow we\u2019re getting somewhere. I knew you had it in you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Howells fingered his chin. \u201cYou look like a man able to take care of himself.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat doesn\u2019t tell me anything I don\u2019t already know.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHere it is then: Can you protect others?\u201d asked Howells.<\/p>\n

\u201cWho are we talking about here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe are talking about me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd why do you need protection?\u201d asked Archer.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have enemies, as I said.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd why do you have enemies?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSome folks have them, unfortunately, and I\u2019m one of those folks. So what do you say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have no interest in making your enemies my enemies. So you have a good day.\u201d<\/p>\n

Archer tipped his hat, turned, and walked off with his satchel. Howells called after him. \u201cYou would desert an old man in need, soldier?\u201d<\/p>\n

Over his shoulder Archer said, \u201cJust wait for a fellow to fall off a truck and he\u2019s<\/i> your man, Bobby H<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/section>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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