by Alan Cook
Chapter 7
The southbound traffic on 101 was lighter than the northbound
traffic heading into San Francisco and the airport shuttle I was
riding in made good time to the airport. The weather became
sunnier and warmer as we went farther south.
The newspapers at an airport shop had front-page stories about
Ned. I bought one and scanned it as I was waiting at the gate.
The story of the shooting didn't say anything I didn't already
know. It described Ned as a high-tech pioneer. Dionysus was
mentioned but I wasn't. Good.
The window seat beside me on the plane was empty; it was Ned's
seat. I moved into it after the plane took off, to get away from
the large man in the aisle seat, who really needed a seat and a
half, and although I rarely slept on airplanes I dozed most of the
way to LA.
After we landed at LAX I raced along the aisles, dodging other
passengers like a running back. I rode down the escalators and
then strode outside to the noise and fumes of motor vehicles
cruising by. A security officer with a reflective shirt appeared from
nowhere whenever a driver tried to park and wait for an arriving
passenger. In a time of heightened security everybody had to
keep moving.
My plan was to catch an airport shuttle home. Suddenly, Arrow
appeared in front of me, breathless. I gave her a startled "Hi"
and she said, "I was afraid I'd miss you. Richard asked me to pick
you up and take you by the office for a debriefing."
Before I could protest she grabbed my bag and led the way across
the airport access road, where the cars, limos and a myriad of
vans and buses--parking lot shuttles, rental car shuttles, hotel
shuttles and airport shuttles--all tried to violate a law of physics by
fitting into the same space at the same time. The metered parking
lot had been permanently closed so Arrow had parked in the
short-term lot, which had a minimum charge of three dollars. Well,
at least I didn't have to pay it. The noise and confusion precluded
much talking until we had stowed the suitcase in the trunk of her
car and climbed inside.
As she backed out of the parking place Arrow said, "You must
have had a horrible night."
"Not as bad as Ned's," I said, wondering how her night had been.
She was wearing slacks and a sweater and didn't look as put
together as she had yesterday.
"Poor Ned. I can't believe it. I was asleep when Richard called
me to ask about your hotel. I hardly slept at all after that."
I felt like a traitor because of the few hours of sleep I'd had. I
asked, "How is my father taking it?"
"He's calm on the surface, but inside is a different matter. I
believe he's badly shaken. He asked me to go to Elma Mackay's
house this morning, to help her in any way I could. He also
wants me to do a complete evaluation of her financial situation,
partly to find out whether Ned has squandered a lot of money.
I'm afraid Elma is one of those women whose financial knowledge
is limited to writing checks from what she considers to be an
ever-flowing artesian well of funds, but never balancing her
checkbook."
Arrow said the last in a disapproving manner and I would have
laughed, had it not been for the gravity of the situation.
"And then Richard called me at Elma's house," Arrow continued,
"and asked me to pick you up. Since it was almost time for
your plane to land I was afraid I'd miss you. Fortunately, the
plane was about ten minutes late."
It was not like my father to do things at the last minute. He
must be very upset.
# # # #
The headquarters of Dionysus was in one of the many buildings
in one of the many office complexes that dot the landscape in
Torrance. The buildings invariably look new because they are
well maintained and well landscaped, and have spacious parking
lots for their employees.
The flag on top of the Dionysus building was at half-mast. I
hadn't been inside for several years, but it still looked the
same to me, with its cubicles and computers, except that
the computers were more modern and the employees in front
of them were more casually dressed. Also, the mood of the
people I saw was subdued.
Arrow led the way to my father's office, actually a large
cubicle. Nobody had an enclosed office. My father was on
the phone so we stopped at the cubicle of his admin, who
was a young man, as my father had told me. The first thing
I noticed about him was that he was wearing an earring; that
was also new to my business experience. I wasn't as surprised
that his short-sleeved shirt--some shade of purple--was
unbuttoned enough to reveal curly chest hair.
He gave Arrow a hint of a smile and said, "A sad day."
"Yes," Arrow said. "Karl, this is John. John, this is Karl."
"Karl, I've been dying to meet you ever since I came here,"
John said, exuberantly, getting up from his chair and
pumping my hand. "You look just like your father."
I murmured something I hoped was polite, but he was
checking his telephone lights and said, "Richard is off the
phone now. Arrow, get your sweet ass into his office." And
to me, "Ta ta, Karl."
Arrow and I walked around the corner, with me looking at her.
She said, in a low voice, "I know what you're thinking, but
coming from him that's not sexual harassment."
"But from me it would be?"
"It depends on which persona you have on."
I would have said "touché," but we were entering my father's
cubicle, which was large enough to have several comfortable
chairs in addition to a table that served as his desk. I had
never seen him look so haggard. It was obvious he hadn't
slept much, either. I was particularly startled because he
had never looked like an old man to me before. Would I look
like that in 30 years?
My father said, "Hi, Karl, I'm glad you're back safely." He came
out from behind his table and shook my hand. He said, "Have
a seat," indicating two of the chairs to Arrow and me, and sat
in the third one.
"How is Elma holding up?" he asked Arrow.
"She's a trooper," Arrow said. "She's already starting to make
plans for a memorial service. Since it isn't clear when Ned's body
will be released because of the autopsy, she's going to go ahead
with a service and have Ned cremated."
"What about the money situation?"
"Elma doesn't have a clue, and so I don't, either-yet. It
will take some digging, but I'll get the answers."
"I was afraid of that. Keep me informed. Karl, how did you
make out with the police?"
"They asked me where I'd been. I walked from my hotel to
James Buchanan's house and it turns out that I was quite
close to Ned about the time he was killed. I hope that
doesn't make me a suspect."
"Not likely. Do they have any leads?"
"It didn't sound like it. Since he was found in a dumpster
they think it might have been more than one person."
My father frowned. "Did Ned tell you that his business meeting
had been cancelled?"
"No! When was it cancelled?"
"Yesterday morning. I talked to one of the people he was
supposed to be meeting with. She said she called him and
he answered the phone himself. He was very pleasant and
thanked her for calling. But apparently he didn't tell anybody
else, including his admin."
"That's bizarre," Arrow said. "He certainly never let on to me.
"Which brings us to the question," my father said, "of what
he was doing from the time he dropped Karl off until he
was killed."
"The police are asking that question too," I said. "He appeared
to be nervous when he dropped me off at my hotel, if that's
any help."
"Tell me how you got involved with James Buchanan." My father
looked at me in what I recognized as a disapproving manner.
I told the story in a few sentences, leaving out the
backgammon game.
"Do you know who James Buchanan is?" my father asked,
when I had finished.
"He apparently runs some sort of a company, but I don't
know what it does."
"James Buchanan is, founder, CEO and major shareholder of
a conglomerate called Tartan Enterprises that owns a
number of other companies."
I had read about Tartan Enterprises since I had become
interested in the stock market, but I hadn't made the
connection to James. I said, "Oh," in a noncommittal manner
because officially I wasn't interested in business.
My father continued, "He is a billionaire several times over.
Since our stock has gone down he has been buying it on
the open market. I know because he has to file SEC
reports. He owns at least five percent of Dionysus, but I
suspect he's probably buying it as we speak, because it
plunged at the opening today."
"Do you know what his objective is?" Arrow asked.
"His objective is to gain a controlling interest in Dionysus and
then kick me out."
Arrow and I looked at each other with our mouths open, not
knowing what to say. Had I been cavorting with the enemy?
"You started Dionysus," Arrow said, "and built it to what it is
now. Anybody who wants to get rid of you is an idiot."
My father smiled slightly and said, "Thanks for the vote of
confidence, Arrow, but your job isn't in jeopardy. James
and I go way back; we've never liked each other. He thinks
he could grow Dionysus faster without me. Maybe he's right."
"But if Buchanan feels that way," I said, "why would Ned be
friendly with him?"
"Ned is Ned. He and Buchanan also go back a long way, all the
way to Scotland, in fact, where they grew up together.
Maybe he was hoping to get the top spot when Buchanan
took over."
"Ned would never have betrayed you," Arrow said, flatly.
"I hope that's true. Now we'll never know."
I had been doing some calculating in my head, based on
information I had read in the last Dionysus annual report.
I said, "You and Ned together control over fifty percent
of Dionysus stock. Without your consent, Buchanan can't
gain a majority interest."
"But now Ned's out of the picture. Elma is the owner of
his stock."
I realized how upset my father was about Ned because he
didn't show any surprise at my knowledge about the stock.
"Do you think Elma would sell out?" Arrow asked.
My father shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows? You've seen
her financial acumen. But it might actually make sense for
her to sell. We don't pay dividends and she needs income
to support herself and the children. Growth in capital isn't
enough for her. Although, recently, the growth in the stock
price has been negative."
"I'll have a better idea of her finances in a few days," Arrow
said.
My father turned to me and said, "Karl, I want to thank you
for your help. Of course I didn't...expect things to turn out
as they did."
"I haven't given you my report on Ned," I said. "After talking
to him and to Buchanan..."
"I'm sure Buchanan identified you as my son..."
"Possibly, although he didn't mention it. Wait-he said to convey
his sympathy to you. I asked him about Ned's gambling. He
said recent events had given him reason to think that Ned
might be compulsive, but he didn't elaborate."
"He might have been trying to create a rift between us."
"All right, we'll discount Buchanan, especially since he seems to
like to play games. I talked to a young man who works for him
named Stan, who knew Ned, and he didn't think that Ned was
much of a gambler at all. I got the same idea from talking to
Ned, himself."
"How do you explain what I saw in the casino?" Arrow asked.
"I don't know."
"Well, anyway, the question is academic now," my father said,
"unless he squandered a lot of money. Arrow will find that
out." He extended his hand to me. "Thanks again, Karl. Have
you met John?"
"Yes, Arrow introduced us when we came in."
"Excellent. Get an expense form from John on your way out.
We'll cover your expenses plus an extra thousand for your
time. Incidentally, you and John should have a lot in common."
He had said that before. Arrow looked as if she was about to
say something. I stared her into silence. I got up, formally
shook her hand and said, "It's been nice working with you."
She looked surprised and said, "I'll drive you home."
I turned to my father and said, "Dad, if you'll let me borrow
your car I'll bring it back at the time you specify and take
you home. That way, Arrow won't have to waste her time
driving me."
The argument about not wasting Arrow's time appealed to him.
Of course my time didn't matter. He said, "Be back here at
six. I want to get to bed early tonight."
"May I borrow your keys?" I asked Arrow. "I'll transfer my
suitcase to my father's car and return the keys to John."
She took them out of her handbag and handed them to me,
reluctantly, I thought. As I turned to leave the cubicle I
spotted the picture of me with my two younger sisters,
sitting on my father's credenza. We were laughing at
something.
I walked around the corner to John's desk. He was eating
one of those big sloppy cheeseburgers that's supposed to
get all over you before you can call yourself a man--or
woman--but he had set up a network of paper napkins to
catch the drips. My mouth watered and reminded me that it
was after 1 p.m. and I hadn't eaten lunch yet.
"Ah, the prodigal son returns," John said when he saw me.
"I need an expense form," I said, hoping to keep our
conversation short.
He wiped his fingers, fastidiously, pulled a form out of a
drawer of his desk and handed it to me, saying, "I'm on an
email list of hot young bods who want to get together. If
you'd like to join I can give you the info."
"Maybe some other time. Is there a telephone I can use?"
He pointed to a phone in an empty cubicle. It was too close
to him. If he heard me making a date with a woman it might
damage his self-image. I didn't want to be responsible for that.
I remembered a pay phone we had passed on our way in from
the parking lot. Sometimes Esther, my friend at the Emerge
organization, ate a late lunch. If traffic wasn't bad, I could
make it to her office in about 30 minutes.
"Thanks," I said. "I've decided I don't need the phone."
"Then I'll see you around if you don't turn square."
"I'll be back in two minutes to return Arrow's keys." I held
them up.
"Ah, Arrow," John sighed. "She's so scrumptious that sometimes
I wish I were straight."
Aces and Knaves copyright ©2002 Alan L. Cook
Give me feedback
Home Page--read about my mystery novel, The Hayloft,
available as a trade paperback book.