The Sheriff ran a finger down his scorecard. Despite two or three blunders from Gisborne, their score was well over 60%, as usual. Still, the standard was so varied in the Castle duplicate, it sometimes required a score well over 65% to win the session.
“It’s an honour to play against you, my Lord,” declared Gostyn Waites, a kitchen porter who had worked in the castle kitchen for some twenty years.
“Indeed so,” agreed his partner, a much younger kitchen worker. He had been primed in what his duty would be, should they happen to play against the Sheriff.
The players drew their cards for this deal:
Dealer South. N/S Game.
| West (Gostyn Waites) | North (Guy of Gisborne) | East (Arthur Legge) | South (The Sheriff) |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1♠️ | |||
| Dbl | 2NT | Pass | 4♠️ |
| All Pass |
Gostyn Waites led the 2♠️ and down went the dummy. He gasped as he saw the four-card spade support. Gisborne had a 4–3–3–3 shape, yet surely he should have raised the Sheriff’s spades?
“May I ask a question?” he said.
“Be silent!” snarled Gisborne. “How dare you interrupt the Lord Sheriff when he is planning the play?”
The Sheriff won the trump lead and drew trumps with a second round. He then ran the Q♦️, losing to West’s king. When a diamond was returned, the Sheriff scored tricks with the J♦️ and A♠️. His next move was to lead the 4♥️ towards dummy.
Gostyn Waites had no wish to defeat the contract. Why would anyone put a much-sought-after job in the kitchens at risk, just to finish slightly closer to halfway in the finishing list? Now, how could he give himself the best chance of conceding the contract?
Waites went in with the A♥️ and cashed the A♣️. He then returned a club, pleased to see that the Sheriff held the king. The result was exactly as he had intended — minus 620. He had read the cards well.
“You followed my play, Gisborne?” demanded the Sheriff. “If this hopeless player goes in with the A♥️, I have a club discard on the K♥️. If he plays low instead, dummy’s K♥️ wins and I return to my hand with a trump. I can then discard a heart on the 10♦️ and endplay him with a second round of hearts.”
This was too much for Gisborne to follow. “A wonderful line, my Lord,” he replied.
The Sheriff turned his gaze to the hapless West player. “You find it amusing to deprive me of the opportunity to make a good play?”
“No indeed, my Lord,” Waites replied. “I had to go in with the A♥️ to stop dummy’s K♥️ from making. Then I played ace and another club in case my partner held the ♣️K.”
The Sheriff shook his head dismissively. “I’m wasting my time playing against this riff-raff,” he declared.
Two rounds later, the Sheriff faced Cecil and Jonas Rosen, the 17-year-old twin sons of Nottingham’s top cloth merchant. They were known to play a sound game. The Sheriff caught Gisborne’s eye, warning him not to let his limited powers of attention drop against these opponents.
Dealer North. Game All.
| West (Cecil Rosen) | North (Guy of Gisborne) | East (Jonas Rosen) | South (The Sheriff) |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1♥️ | Pass | 1♠️ | |
| Pass | 2♣️ | Pass | 2♦️ |
| Dbl | Pass | Pass | 3♠️ |
| Pass | 4NT | Pass | 5♦️ |
| Pass | 6♠️ | All Pass |
Cecil Rosen, who was distinguishable from his brother only by his neater grooming, led the 9♠️ against the small slam.
The Sheriff won with dummy’s ace and drew trumps in two further rounds. He then ran the Q♥️ to East’s king. With no appreciable delay, Jonas Rosen returned the 9♣️.
The Sheriff counted his tricks: six trumps, four hearts unless the suit broke 5–1, and two minor-suit aces. With likely three discards available on the hearts, it would be foolish to finesse against the K♣️. He rose with the A♣️ and played a second heart, not enthralled to see West show out. With only two discards available on dummy’s hearts, he could not avoid a club loser. The slam went one down.
Gisborne retrieved East’s cards and thumbed through them. “The king of clubs was onside, my Lord,” he reported.
The Sheriff’s eyes blazed. “And your point is?” he demanded.
“Well, I know his 9♣️ may have put you off, my Lord,” Gisborne continued, “but if you ignore the youngster’s deception and take the club finesse, you make the slam.”
“May the Saints spare me your inane comments!” cried the Sheriff. “Unless the hearts were 5–1, I had three club discards. Did that obvious point escape you?”
Gisborne surveyed the score-sheet. “No, my Lord, but everyone else seems to have made twelve tricks.”
Cecil Rosen leaned forwards. “Perhaps you could play the ace and queen of hearts, my Lord,” he suggested. “Then you would discover the bad break in good time. You could fall back on the club finesse.”
“I’m surrounded by idiots,” thundered the Sheriff. “Why would I surrender a heart trick at matchpoints, when there was every chance of making thirteen tricks?”
Cecil Rosen nodded and looked towards his twin brother. “That’s true,” he replied. “We can show the hand to our father when we get back. He’ll know what the right play was.”
Not long afterwards, Lord and Lady DeClerc arrived at the Sheriff’s table. The Sheriff was a frequent guest at their palatial home, which was surrounded by fine hunting territory. While it was not the Sheriff’s custom to hold back in his play against them, he certainly had no intention of upsetting such valued friends.
“You look well, my dear,” said the Sheriff, as the pale-faced Lady DeClerc took her seat.
Dealer South. Love All.
| West (Lord DeClerc) | North (Guy of Gisborne) | East (Lady DeClerc) | South (The Sheriff) |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1NT | |||
| Pass | 3NT | All Pass |
Lord DeClerc led the 2♥️ and the Sheriff won with dummy’s ace. He had seven top tricks and would need to add two more from the clubs. What lie of the suit would that require?
The Sheriff concluded that prospects were grim. Still, if either East or West held a doubleton ♣️Q–10, it could be done.
“Small club,” he said.
When the 3♣️ appeared from Lady DeClerc, it seemed he would need West to hold ♣️Q–10. The Sheriff played the K♣️ from his hand, and West followed with the 8♣️. On the next trick, the J♣️ pinned West’s 10♣️ and Lady DeClerc won with the Q♣️. She dislodged dummy’s K♥️ with her Q♥️ and won the next round of clubs with the ace. A heart return gave her husband two tricks in that suit, but the game was home. The Sheriff had lost just two clubs and two hearts.
Gisborne entered the result on the scoresheet. “It’s a good one for us, my Lord,” he announced. “Many have gone down.”
The Sheriff winced at this lack of tact. Did Gisborne not realise who their opponents were?
‘Others went down?’ exclaimed Lady DeClerc. ‘How can this be? I had to unblock the Q❤️ to give Cedric two heart tricks. I thought it would be a good one for us.’
‘It was an excellent unblock, my Lady,’ said the Sheriff. ‘Few would have found it.’
‘Perhaps you should win the first round of clubs with the ace,’ suggested Gisborne.
The Sheriff sent a warning glare across the table. Hold your tongue, man, for Heaven’s sake!
Gisborne was pleased to display his expertise in this illustrious company. ‘Yes, you return the queen of hearts,’ he persisted, ‘and declarer has to win the next club with the bare king. He has only one entry left to dummy and cannot enjoy any more club winners.’
Lord DeClerc turned towards the Sheriff. ‘Your partner has the manners of an ill-bred oaf,’ he declared. ‘Is it his custom to insult the card play of noblewomen?’
‘His coarse behaviour is inexcusable,’ replied the Sheriff. ‘Please accept my apologies on his behalf. He spends too much time in the company of the Castle’s soldiery.’
Lord DeClerc sat back in his chair to consider the matter. ‘Should you be invited to our estate again, be sure not to arrive with this boorish man in your party.’
The Sheriff bowed his head in agreement. ‘You can rely on me, my Lord. Such a faux pas would be inexcusable.’
