by Alan Cook
"And if you lose?"
I double my bet. Then, when I win it cancels out my loss."
"What if you lose five times in a row? Do you keep doubling your bet each time?"
"Yes."
"At that point you would be betting 32 times your basic bet."
"Something like that."
"What happens if you lose enough times in a row so that you don't have enough money left to double your bet?"
George squirmed in his chair. "If I make my basic bet low enough it should never happen."
"In statistics," I said, lecturing like a professor, "anything that can happen will happen eventually. And if you make your basic bet too low it will take you forever to win the amount of money James has decreed you need to be a winner, even if you get lucky. The other problem with your system is that the odds aren't even on red and black. The zero and double-zero on the roulette wheel make them less than even."
George stared at the table and said nothing. Had I been too hard on him? I was trying to save him what money he had left.
"Thank you," Martha told me. "Maybe he'll listen to you. He won't listen to me."
Arrow had been unnaturally quiet during this discussion. Now she said, "I think you should listen to Karl. He knows what he's talking about."
***
George and Martha left soon after that. Hopefully, they wouldn't be back.
Art had the cashier issue us some "fun" chips and Arrow and I played blackjack, side by side. I coached her on the basics and she about broke even while I counted the cards and amassed a large pile of chips. It's easy when you're playing for the hell of it.
At some point Art asked me to move the car to let some people out and I was able to park it on the street.
After we tired of blackjack we wandered around the room, betting a few chips at the craps table and the roulette wheel. I started watching the other players. I noticed that there were two kinds of chips, the fun chips, like the ones we were using and the serious chips, for those who had some kind of a bet going with James.
The people betting the serious chips were themselves much more serious than the others because they were possibly betting their companies. It occurred to me that some of these sessions might go on for a number of nights while the bettors tried to increase their winnings sufficiently to, in effect, win their bet with James, or until they lost their stake.
This was borne out when I saw one couple take a pile of serious chips to the cashier and get a receipt for them. I was sure they would be back tomorrow. I glanced at my watch; it was close to eleven.
"I'm starting to drag," Arrow said. "When you get up at five, 11 p.m. isn't on your clock."
I was tired too. "There's one small problem," I said. "We don't have a place to stay." We hadn't done anything about it before, thinking we would take a night flight back to LA. Now it was too late.
We approached Art, hoping he could help us find a hotel.
"We have a spare bedroom here that isn't being used tonight," Art said. "We could let you sleep there."
"One?" I asked.
"One," he said, looking from one of us to the other, with just a hint of a leer.
"How many beds?" I asked.
"Two double beds."
"Can you trust me to stay in my own bed?" I asked Arrow.
She nodded, sleepily.
Chapter 29 ELMA--3
I awoke to see daylight trickling into the room through the slats in the blinds. I glanced at my watch, still on my wrist; it was approaching 6 a.m. I was still tired and considered going back to sleep, but then my brain kicked into gear.
I twisted my head around and saw Arrow's short curls in the other bed and nothing else but blanket and pillow. She didn't move. I quietly got out of bed and pulled on my pants. I had slept in my underwear. I didn't know what Arrow had worn to bed. When she had come out of the bathroom last night I had been deliberately facing the window. Her red dress was draped over the back of a chair.
The bedroom was large enough to be a master bedroom, several times over, with appropriate fancy furnishings. I tiptoed past Arrow's bed to the monster bathroom that went with it, complete with dual sinks, dual showers and gold-colored faucets. After washing my face and running a comb through my hair I exited the bathroom and the bedroom, barefoot.
I entered a hallway that led to the top of the stairs. The bedrooms were two stories above the casino. One of the assistants had showed us to the room last night and pointed out the kitchen on the main floor. I walked down one flight of carpeted stairs and made my way toward the kitchen.
It occurred to me that I didn't know whether there was anybody else in the house, except Arrow and me. James was on a business trip. Stan had been out last night. Perhaps he had an assignation. Who knew what his understanding with James was on that score. I had heard muffled noises after we had gone to bed, but they could have been connected with closing the casino for the night.
My answer came swiftly. The sounds coming from the kitchen were not muffled. I didn't want to scare whoever it was so I said, "Hello," at the kitchen door. As I walked in I saw the startled face of Stan.
"What the hell are you doing here?" was his greeting.
And I thought James trained his staff to put customer service first. "I was in town so I dropped in here last night," I said, blandly.
"Did James say you could stay here?"
"I was told that James is out of town. Art said I could stay here."
"Nobody stays there without James' permission." Stan glowered at me and then turned his attention to fixing himself a cup of coffee. He was already dressed for work, in a white shirt and tie.
"Do you have any oatmeal?" I asked.
He pointed at a large cupboard. I opened the door and came face-to-face with lots of sugar-saturated cereals I hadn't been able to tolerate since I was a teenager. Finally, in the back I spotted the familiar round box and pulled it out. Long arms can come in handy. As I found a pot and measuring cup with Stan's grudging help, it occurred to me that this meeting might be an opportunity for me.
"May I ask you a question about Ned?" I asked, trying to formulate a plan.
Stan's Neanderthal grunt didn't immediately convey any meaning so I interpreted it as a yes. I said, "James is trying to gain control of Dionysus. To do that he needs the proxy of Elma, Ned's widow. It follows that when Ned was alive he needed Ned's proxy. Did Ned promise James his proxy in return for, say, becoming CEO of Dionysus?"
Stan, who was now sitting at a breakfast table, sipping his coffee and eating a sweet roll, contemplated me for a moment and then said, "Ned made a pest of himself. Not only did he want to be CEO of Dionysus, he wanted a piece of Tartan, too. But James put up with him. Even let him stay in the guest room sometimes. I know James and Ned had worked together before. I know they grew up together. Ned felt he had always gotten the short end of the stick and was trying to make up for it. But the truth is, he was a goddam pest and yet James put up with him."
I was surprised at Stan's vehemence, but now that he had started talking I wanted to take advantage of it. I sat down opposite him with my cereal and said, "So what happened? Did Ned agree to gamble for a piece of Tartan and lose?"
Stan shook his head. "Ned wouldn't gamble with James. He told me once he knew James too well to do that."
Smart fellow. I remembered something. "James wanted Ned to exercise his stock options and keep the stock, didn't he? That way, Ned's proxy is worth more and James doesn't have to buy as many shares in the open market."
"If you know so much, why are you asking me?"
Oops, I didn't want to aggravate him. In reality, Ned had exercised his options and immediately sold the stock, so something must have come between him and James.
"I heard a wild story," I said, "that James and Ned were in a casino in the desert east of LA and Ned lost a ton of money playing blackjack."
"It's true," Stan said. "James and Ned went to Palm Springs to look at a company there, a possible acquisition f
or Tartan. I don't know why he took Ned along; I did the analysis on the company and I knew a hell of a lot more about it than Ned did."
Stan poured himself a fresh cup of coffee and stirred milk into it with such vigor that it sloshed over the side of the cup and onto the saucer.
"So they stopped at the casino," I prompted.
"They stopped at the casino and Ned completely lost it—his head and his money. James was so amazed that when he returned here that he couldn't stop talking about it."
"And so that was the end of their deal?"
"Which deal?"
"The deal for Tartan to acquire Dionysus."
"It should have been. Especially if the deal meant Ned being CEO of Dionysus. I mean the guy was two quarts low. But, incredibly, James stuck with him. He still wanted to do the deal, make Ned CEO and all. I can tell you, he wouldn't have done that with anybody else."
"Then why did he have Ned killed?"
Stan looked at me as though he hadn't heard me. I knew he had so I stared back at him, trying to remain calm. He deliberately got up from the table and walked toward the door to the kitchen. When he got there he turned around and said, "You'd better be careful what you say. You don't want to end up like Ned."
This was the second time he had voiced that threat.
***
When I opened the door to the bedroom I heard the click of computer keys. Arrow was sitting cross-legged on her bed, wearing a T-shirt, with her laptop, appropriately, in her lap. The computer was connected to a phone jack in the wall. She looked good in the white shirt against her tan-colored arms and bare legs, but then she looked good wearing anything—or nothing.
"Is this the newest in leisure wear for the up-and-coming female executive?" I asked.
"I found it in your overnight bag," she said, tossing a mock-coy look at me over her shoulder and then turning back to the keyboard. "I hope you don't mind. I figured I should be wearing something when you returned. You don't seem to like me when I'm wearing nothing."
Apparently, I hadn't communicated my likes and dislikes successfully to Arrow. "So you're being diligent, checking email and executing all the other important duties of your position."
"I am feeling guilty because we didn't accomplish anything yesterday."
"We know more about how James operates and how he plays his current version of The Game."
"But that doesn't help us pin Ned's murder on him. Besides, I have to call Richard at nine to tell him where we are and give him the daily briefing." She paused and looked around at the antique furniture, including a huge rocking chair that had probably survived the 1906 earthquake. "I love this room. And did you see that bathtub? It has jets and everything. I could spend my life in that. How long do you think they'll let us stay here?"
"If we stay here tonight we might end up with bullets in our backs."
"Meaning..."
"Meaning that I just talked to Stan and made him mad."
"Is he still here?"
"No, he left, either to go to work or to look up the gangbangers who do his dirty work for him." I gave Arrow a short description of our meeting.
"Is it a good idea to antagonize Stan? If he was really the one who got Ned killed..."
"What was he going to do, stab me with a kitchen knife? Somehow, that doesn't seem like his style. But we are going to have to be careful around him."
"Do you think James had Ned killed because Ned somehow didn't carry out his part of their bargain in regard to Dionysus?"
"James apparently doesn't suffer defectors lightly." And if I didn't produce Elma's proxy, I would be a defector.
Arrow considered that. "Should I try to talk to Stan?"
"For reasons already stated, I don't think it's a good idea, especially since you're associated with me."
"So what's the next step?"
I had one in mind, but I didn't want to discuss it with Arrow. "Fly back to LA and collect more frequent-flyer miles."
Arrow sighed. "So I won't get a chance to try out the bathtub."
"You may have one hour in the tub."
"And what are you going to do?"
"I'll get us return reservations and, if you'll let me use your laptop, check my email and work on my baseball card business."
"So who's the workaholic?"
Arrow insisted on leaving the bathroom door open so, as she explained, we could communicate with each other. It made communication easier but working much more difficult as I listened to the jets and pictured where they were massaging her.
***
I spotted Elma before she crossed the street to the Hermosa Beach plaza that extended inland from its pier. She looked very jaunty in denim shorts, a thin, frilly top and dark glasses.
I knew intellectually that what she and I had done together hadn't ruined her life, but, nevertheless, I was relieved to see the lightness in her step. I had agreed to meet her here because I wasn't sure I had enough willpower to keep a meeting at her house on purely a business level.
I had called Elma from James' house to set up this late lunch. Arrow had been running the jets in the bathtub at the time. I didn't want Arrow to know I was meeting Elma, for whatever reason.
She spotted me and waved. The walk light flashed "walk," she crossed the street and gave me a hug. I caught a whiff of the same scent she had worn on that night and memories returned.
"Are you hungry?" I asked. She nodded and we picked one of the cafes where we could sit outside. We kept to small talk while we read the menus and ordered, carefully avoiding what was on both of our minds.
But I hadn't come to talk about that. After we gave our orders to a waitress I said, "An incident happened between Ned and James that I haven't told you about because I didn't know if it would upset you. However, I don't think it will now. And I'd like your interpretation of it because it might explain something about their relationship and possibly...relate to Ned's murder."
"Are you saying that you think James killed Ned?"
"I think we have to consider the possibility."
"All right, tell me what happened." She put her chin in her hands and leaned toward me, a teenager fawning on her date.
I started by saying that Ned hadn't actually lost any money because I wanted her to concentrate on the deception and not worry about whether he had squandered her estate. Then I set the stage at the desert casino where Ned had played blackjack. When I was explaining how Ned carried out the ruse, Elma interrupted me and asked whether James had ever caught on. When I said no she started laughing.
She explained, "Ned didn't get the best of James very often. I'm glad he did this once."
She let me finish the story. When I was through I waited for her reaction.
"Ned tried to make a complete break with James years ago, when he went to work for your father," she said. "As far as I know it was successful until James got this bug in his ear about acquiring Dionysus. Ned didn't tell me James had contacted him again, I'm sure because he knew what my reaction would be. He didn't tell me he was visiting him in San Francisco.
"James had a strange power over Ned. Ned had a hard time saying no to him. And if James promised him the CEO job, that was a carrot Ned might not have been able to resist. But somewhere along the way Ned probably had an attack of conscience, and also remembered what the reality of working with James was like, certainly much worse than working with your father.
"I suspect Ned wanted out of the deal but still couldn't tell James no. So he did something so terrible, so absurd, that James would have nothing more to do with him. And nothing is so absurd to James as somebody trying to fight the odds. The laws of chance rule his life."
"James' assistant told me that James still wanted to do business with Ned, even after that incident."
"At that point perhaps Ned finally got up the courage to say no."
"And James was so upset he had him killed?"
Elma hesitated. "You know, I still can't picture James as a murderer. Maybe it's because I'm a sentime
ntal fool. James has many faults, but I'm not sure that's one of them. Even after hearing the story about Dickie it's hard for me to believe...."
She stopped, and I decided it was time to switch to lighter subjects. I was able to get her to smile again. When we said goodbye Elma said, "You know, a lady is not supposed to do this, but I want to thank you for the other night. I have been seeing things a lot more clearly since then."
She hugged me and walked away with the same spring in her step I had seen when she arrived. I was happy and sad at the same time, realizing that she didn't need me any more—at least not like that.
Chapter 30 THE BET--2
The voice that answered my ring didn't belong to Stan. I was glad of that; I hoped Stan wasn't here tonight. When I gave my name the voice got back to me in 30 seconds with the puzzle of the day.
I solved it within two minutes and was clicked into the house. As I walked downstairs to the casino I heard the perfect diction of Nancy Wilson as she sang "When Sunny Gets Blue." The crowd was even lighter than it had been last Wednesday. Monday night must be the slowest night of all. Either that, or James had cleaned out everybody in San Francisco.
The young man who greeted me at the bottom of the stairs was neither Stan nor Art, but a clone whose name I promptly forgot. I asked him whether James was present—Art had assured me last week that James would be back here on Monday—and received a positive response. He went into the control room to retrieve James while I waited, rehearsing what I was going to say.
James bustled out with a broad smile on his face and said, "Karl, baby, what a pleasure. Where's Arrow? I heard that you and she stayed here last week."
Instead of shaking my hand he gave me a quick, masculine hug and I half-expected the kiss of death to follow.
"I'm all alone tonight," I said and waited for him to mention that I had accused him of murder.
Instead, he said, "That's a damn shame. Arrow is on my all-time list of favorite women. Well, did you come to give me a report on one of my other favorites?"
Meaning Elma. "She's a tough nut, but I'm working on her. I feel confident I can swing her over."
