by Alan Cook
Chapter 30
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."
"Well, you've got a few more days." He dismissed
my news with a wave of his hand. "What would
you like to do tonight?"
"Make you a proposition."
"Another one?"
"Yes. This one depends on your reputation for
absolute honesty." Elma had told me that
James' best trait was that he always kept his
promises. Of course he expected others to do
the same. Seamus had also said that. The
Goodwins, too.
James looked amused. "This sounds serious.
Shall we sit down?"
He led me to a vacant table. I struggled with how
to phrase my request. After a couple of false starts
I said, "I-I need to have the answer to...need to
have you answer a question for me. A yes-no type
question."
"Go ahead; ask me the question."
"It's not that simple. If I just ask you the question
you can decline to answer. I don't want to ask
the question until I'm sure you will answer it."
Drinks magically appeared in front of us, a clear
liquid for James with a slice of lime and a straw,
iced tea for me. James sipped his drink through
the straw and regarded me with his blue eyes. He
said, "This must be a very serious question. What
do you propose?"
"I'll gamble for the right to ask the question. But
you have to promise to answer it."
"So I have to think back over my whole life and
determine whether there is anything I've done that
I wouldn't admit. Is that it? Because you know more
about my life than most people. You've even been
to the town where I grew up and talked to people
there.
"But I must admit that this is intriguing. I've lived
my life in a straightforward manner; I'm not
trying to hide anything. What question do you
want the answer to that you wouldn't just
come out and ask me? More information about
the Dickie incident? I can't think of a question
answerable by yes or no that would help to
clarify that. The truth is rarely a yes-or-no
affair."
I was tempted--tempted to ask the question: Did
you have any part at all in Ned's murder? But if
it were that easy, getting murder convictions
would be a snap. No, James lived and died by
The Game. And winning The Game was the only
way I could ensure getting a truthful answer.
"What kind of odds will you give me?" I asked.
"Most people who come here do so because I'm
their last hope. If they're going to lose their
company anyway, they're willing to buck the
odds to save it. But with you, Karl, it's a
different story. All you want to do is ask me a
question. Besides, you have a better head for
figures than most of the others. You know the
odds are against you."
"I'll be honest with you," I said. "I plan to play
blackjack and count the cards. If your dealer
uses a single deck and plays to the last card I
can swing the odds in my favor."
"In theory, yes. But can you really carry out that
program? If you'd been practicing for the last two
years under live conditions, I would say that you
probably could. But playing in your living room with
nothing to lose is a completely different matter.
The difference is like a baseball player going from
Little League straight to the World Series."
"Are you going to take me up on it?" I didn't
want to talk all night.
"I like you, Karl, and I don't want to see you
lose. But if you really want to do it I won't
stop you. We need a penalty if you lose." James
sipped and I waited. "I've got it. You have to
work for me for a year. Of course, I'll pay you
a regular salary; I'll even give you stock options."
If I lost I might be a dead man, in which case
that would become irrelevant. "Agreed."
"I'll give you an initial stake of $1,000. You have
to increase it to $4,000 to win."
I was expecting that and again I agreed.
"When do you want to start?" James asked.
"Right now."
"Well, you look sober and alert. Why not?"
# # # #
There were two blackjack tables. The ideal
situation would have been for me to play
one-on-one against a dealer, but when I
mentioned that to James he said he couldn't
afford to tie up a dealer and a table just for me.
Especially since my bet was puny compared to
some of the other players. But it wasn't puny
to me.
I picked a table with two other players and sat in
the left-hand seat so that I would have the
maximum opportunity to see the cards of the other
players before I decided whether to take a hit.
The dealer did play with one deck and did play
to the last card so the odds were already better
than in any other casino I was aware of. I think
James allowed that out of a sense of
sportsmanship because the players were not
professional gamblers. He wasn't all bad.
The quick way to increase $1,000 to $4,000 was
to bet the thousand on the first hand and then
if I won bet $2,000 on the second hand.
Unfortunately, I had less than a 25 percent
probability of winning with this strategy and I
needed a certainty.
I waited until the dealer shuffled before I started
to bet. He offered the deck to me to cut and
welcomed me to the game with a nod. I bet only
a dollar a hand to start, setting my mind to the
discipline of counting the cards worth ten (ten,
jack, queen, king) and the others and calculating
the ratio between them in my head. A ten-rich
deck swings the odds in the favor of the player.
The first time the ratio reached 50-50 I bet $10
and felt a surge of adrenaline. I won the hand; my
system was working.
I played for an hour and was modestly ahead. I
decided to take a break and review my strategy
with the intent of increasing my bets when the
odds were in my favor. If you varied your bets
too much in Las Vegas you got thrown out on
your ear. Here, James already knew what I
was doing.
I felt the presence of someone to my left. I
looked up from my cards and saw Arrow's black
curls. Startled, I said, "What are you doing
here?"
She said, "The question is, what are you doing
here? Karl, I need to talk to you."
"It's time for my break, anyway," I said, deciding
to yield gracefully rather than risk a scene.
I placed my loose chips in the rack I had been
given and followed Arrow to a table, where we
sat down. She didn't look happy.
"What are you doing here?" I asked her again.
"I tried to call you this morning," Arrow said.
"I called Elma to discuss her finances and she
told me she had met you and you regaled her
with the story about Ned's desert blackjack
game. You did that Thursday afternoon, right
after you and I flew back from San Francisco.
And yet you told me you weren't going to try
to get Elma's proxy for James."
"I wasn't trying to get her proxy." I felt myself
growing hot.
"Richard came back to work today and I told him
about your bargain with James. He went ballistic.
I thought he was going to have another stroke."
"How could you do that?"
"I had to, Karl. Things were getting out of hand."
"Thanks a lot. With friends like you I might as
well fall on my sword."
"Don't give me that shit. I have to protect
Dionysus. I also told Richard why we came here
last week. He told me in no uncertain terms to
stop working on Ned's murder. First, he doesn't
want us to stick our necks out and, second, he
doesn't believe James had any part in Ned's murder."
"How did you find out I was here?"
"I tried to call you, as I said. I left several messages,
but you didn't return my calls. When I was going to
Richard's house to give him briefings I got to know
Luz. She told me that when you went out for more
than a few hours you told her so that she wouldn't
cook for you. So I called her and asked if she knew
where you were. She told me you had flown to San
Francisco."
"You get 'A' for detective work."
Arrow ignored my sarcasm and said, "There's only
one reason you would go to San Francisco and
that is to work on Ned's murder. I had to tell
Richard. What he said I won't repeat, but I
finally convinced him that even if he didn't want
to help you as a father, he had to do it as CEO
of Dionysus. A phone call here wouldn't be
sufficient because what can you accomplish
on the phone? So I caught the next plane."
"How did you solve the puzzle of the day with
your feeble MBA brain?"
"One of James' lackeys tried to give me the
puzzle. I told him to shove it and to put James
on the intercom. I told James what I thought
of his stupid-ass puzzle and that I needed to
talk to you."
"And he let you in."
"Of course."
She was definitely CEO material. "Well, now
that you're here you can turn right around
and fly back to LA. I don't need you."
Arrow looked at me steadily and said, "Karl,
you've got to tell me what you're doing."
"I'm just having a little fun."
"If that grim expression means you're having fun,
I'd hate to see you when you're not. I don't play
games, remember? You're using the serious chips.
You made another bet with James, didn't you?"
She knew too much. "So what if I did? That's my
business."
"It's Dionysus business so it's my business. And your
father's business."
"My father doesn't care if I rot in hell."
"He does! He does care for you. He just thinks
you're too...reckless. And that recklessness is
jeopardizing Dionysus, not to mention your
own skin."
How could I get her off my back? "Okay, I made
another bet." I looked around to see if anyone
was within earshot. "If I win I'll find out whether
James had any part in Ned's murder."
"How are you going to do that?"
I explained my reasoning in a low voice, making
Arrow strain to hear me over the crowd noise.
When I said it out loud it didn't sound so grand.
If I couldn't even convince myself that it would
work, how could I convince Arrow?
At least Arrow didn't interrupt me. When I was
through, she said, "You're trying to extract a
confession from a murderer, based on his
personal integrity. How much integrity does
a murderer have?"
I couldn't answer that question. Why did she have
to show up to complicate my life?
"I sat within a few feet of this spot," she continued,
"and listened to you tell that guy George why his
system wouldn't work. You sounded very wise.
But you don't follow your own advice, do you?"
I felt like strangling her to shut her up. But she
wasn't through.
"It would break Richard's heart if you went to work
for James, when you won't work for him--your own
father. So I'll tell you what I'm going to do, for
Richard's sake. I'll be your assistant and your
moral support. Even if that means just carrying
your chips. But why can't you just cancel the bet
now like we did before?"
"It's too late." Meaning that my own integrity
was at stake.
Arrow looked ready to argue the point but
apparently decided not to. She said, "Okay,
tell me what your strategy is. That way I'll
know if you're veering off course."
Even though she had turned traitor and squealed
on me to my father I felt more comfortable with
Arrow here. She could help me maintain my
discipline. I told her my basic strategy and we
agreed that I would play no more than an hour
at a stretch and then rest for at least fifteen
minutes. And no alcoholic beverages.
At 11 o'clock I had significantly increased my stake.
I think Arrow's presence helped me stick to my plan.
Arrow suddenly said, "Okay, that's it. You're through
for the night."
I remembered we had agreed on an 11 o'clock
stop time, but I didn't want to quit. I figured
that I could keep on winning. But Arrow grabbed
my rack of chips and walked away. My urge to
strangle her returned. I took several deep
breaths and forced a smile at the dealer. I said,
"I guess I'm through." He saluted me and I left
the table.
When I caught Arrow she said, "I think it's better
to quit while you're ahead. It will give you a
positive attitude going into tomorrow's game."
She had a point there, although I didn't admit
it. She told me she had a hotel room booked.
I did too, but not at the same hotel. She said
she would work at her hotel tomorrow and meet
me here at seven when the casino opened.
I got a receipt for my chips and we walked toward
the stairs. James came over to us from some
people he was talking to and said, "Arrow, I don't
know whether I'm glad or sad that you showed
up. I'm glad to see you again, but you obviously
have a steadying influence on Karl. He plays
better with you here."
"Why don't you just let him cancel the bet?" Arrow
said. "He's proved he can be cool under fire."
"Not now," I said, heatedly. "I'm going to win."
"Besides, I couldn't do that," James said with a
smirk. "Then I'd never find out what question
you want to ask me." He turned to Arrow. "And
now that I know you're as feisty as you are
beautiful I wish I'd made you part of the
package and insisted that you work for me if
Karl loses."
"In your dreams."
Aces and Knaves copyright ©2002 Alan L. Cook
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