by Alan Cook
Chapter 29
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 for 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 sentimental 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.
Aces and Knaves copyright ©2002 Alan L. Cook
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