Aces and Knaves

"What did you promise Jock to get him to leave?"
    "Not what you think. Although we may have to meet him for a drink."
    "So you included me."
    "I'm certainly not going alone."
    Michael came back into the room and said, "We would like to have you stay for lunch."
    Lunch. I looked at my watch. Time flies when you're jet-lagged and don't know what time it really is. I said, "Why don't we take you both out for lunch. Is there a place nearby...?"
    "The hotel's about the only place and we can do better. You haven't eaten until you've tried Heather's good hearty soup."
    "We'd love to stay for lunch," Arrow said in a loud voice. "I'll help Heather in the kitchen while you two go over what Karl's done on the website." She disappeared through the swinging door, the soul of domesticity, and we could hear her complimenting Heather on her kitchen.
    Michael looked at me in relief as he cleared his papers off the table.
    ***
    "James was the leader of our gang, if you want to call it that. He was the one with all the ideas, some of them pretty daft. Ned was his best friend. They shared everything, including Elma."
    Michael stopped to eat a spoonful of soup, which was indeed both good and hearty. He and I each had a glass of beer. Arrow and Heather drank tea, although I knew by now that Arrow detested it.
    "I was younger than Elma," Heather said, “but I always thought she was a wild one. Two boyfriends at the same time and then running off to America all my herself."
    "She's quieted down a lot," Arrow said. "Raising three kids will do that to you."
    She and Heather laughed together; Heather had also raised three kids. Suddenly the two of them were best buddies. Arrow had apparently convinced Heather that she was sweet and innocent, in spite of the fact that she was traveling abroad with somebody who wasn't her husband or even her intended.
    Heather jumped up from the table and scurried into the kitchen.
    "I understand that James invented something called The Game," I said, attempting to steer the conversation.
    "Aye, The Game," Michael said. "James liked to play games that he was good at. He was always looking for an edge. I remember one time I played it..." He stopped and glanced at Heather, who had just returned with a lamb dish.
    "Let's hear what you have to say, Michael McTavish," Heather said, placing the dish in front of him. "Don't stop on account of me. I already know enough about your sorry youth to convince your father to disinherit you."
    "Small loss that would be," Michael said. "Well, this was before you were in the picture, Heather. You were still a skinny child..."
    "You were no Adonis, yourself."
    "There was this girl I had my eye on..."
    "And who would that be?"
    "Nobody you would remember. If you wish to hear my story, woman, then let me tell it. James knew her and promised to fix me up with her if I won The Game. The penalty if I lost was to run through the center of town with no clothes on."
    "I don't remember that."
    "If you were smart you were snug inside by the fire. It was a miserable day, rain and wind, and few people were about. I almost caught pneumonia."
    "If I had seen you naked I would have had more sense than to marry you."
    "I take it you lost The Game," I said, smiling.
    "Yes. I had practiced, but at the last minute James changed the rules and I had to throw for different squares. That was like James."
    "Elma said that a boy got killed as a result of The Game." Arrow said this casually, as if to make conversation, but she stole a glance at me as she said it.
    "Killed?" Michael had a puzzled expression.
    "Was that the Stewart boy?" Heather asked. "As I recall he fell onto the rocks."
    Arrow and I looked at each other again, but we kept quiet.
    "Dickie Stewart," Michael said, as if remembering. "He was part of the group. One day he took it into his head to climb the cliff from the beach. He must have slipped. It was very sad."
    "Did he climb the cliff as a penalty for losing The Game?" I asked.
    Michael took a sip of beer, then another. After a few more sips he said, "As I recall I was laid up in bed at the time—influenza I think it was, and I don't know the details."
    "But you must have talked to the other boys," Arrow said, with a tinge of disbelief.
    "I don't recall that. I went to Dickie's funeral, of course, even though I was still a bit rocky. By the time I had recovered the affair was over and forgotten."
    "Perhaps there are other members of your group still here who would know what happened,"