Aces and Knaves

his mind on an issue.
    Arrow was the buffer between him and me. I could speak more freely with her there, even though she might not agree with me—probably wouldn't agree with me.
    She had the floor first and talked about various corporate issues. Among other things, she gave the latest official figures for Tartan's holdings of Dionysus stock. It was obvious that James was still acquiring the stock in the open market, but not in blocks large enough to cause the price to jump. The stock had gone up in the last week, but whether any of that gain was due to increased activity on Tartan's part we didn't know since Arrow's figures were weeks old.
    Arrow saved the best for last. She pulled a piece of paper out of an envelope, with a flourish, and said, "Richard, I thought you'd like to see this with your own eyes. It's Elma's signed proxy, giving you the right to vote all of her shares at the meeting." She handed the paper to him.
    My father smiled the broadest smile I had seen from him since his stroke, reached over and gave Arrow, who was sitting beside him on the couch, a big hug. It's a good thing Jacie wasn't in the room.
    It was my turn to speak. I felt as if my team had just gotten the ball for the first time, behind by a score of 40 to nothing. My idea was to discuss the advantages of selling the company to James from an "objective" point of view. I even had notes; in fact, I had put together a written outline.
    If I could convince my father of this course of action, then of course I wouldn't have to convince Elma, especially since he had her proxy. But I could tell from my first words that the momentum was against me. My father had won and he wasn't going to listen to an opposing point of view.
    He interrupted me before I had made a single point and said, "I don't know why all of a sudden you're taking James' side on this, especially after what you and Arrow found out in London. But let me tell you right here and now that James is the last person I'd sell out to. I'd rather sell to Microsoft, and you know how I feel about Bill Gates."
    I tried again, stumbling along, fighting against reality, and attempting to make my arguments sound plausible.
    This time Arrow interrupted me. She said, "Karl, maybe you're just trying to play devil's advocate, but this is a strange time to do it. The decision has been made to fight James. Elma has given Richard her proxy. In fact, the fight is over because James can't buy enough stock in the open market to ever have more than a minority interest. The best he can hope for is perhaps one seat on the Board of Directors. If he will be satisfied with that, fine. If not, he'll probably sell the stock at some point."
    When the meeting concluded I walked Arrow out to her car, hoping to mend fences. I said, trying to speak lightly, "It might not be so bad, working for James. He thinks very highly of you."
    "Ha! About as high as any woman is going to get with James is receptionist, and only because most of the people he deals with are men. He needs someone with short skirts and nice legs to distract them until he can get in their pants."
    How did she know about the receptionist? "I guess Elma is firmly in Richard's camp now."
    "You saw the proxy form."
    "You've done your job, it appears."
    "Karl, you're acting very strange today," Arrow said, with a puzzled look on her face. "Maybe you need a vacation."
    ***
    "Tell me again why you asked me out to dinner—not that I'm complaining."
    Elma sat across from me with her green eyes smiling. She wore a dress that matched her eyes and complimented her red hair. Her freckles on an almost unlined face and youthful figure completed the picture of a woman who couldn't possibly have three grown children.
    "I'm not satisfied that everything possible is being done in the investigation of Ned's death," I said, making it up as I went along. "I was just hoping that in talking to you I could pick up some clue that maybe...perhaps I could pass along to the police."
    "I'll help you and the police all I can; you know that. But I've told about everything I know that I thought might be of use—which is practically nothing. However, I really appreciate the opportunity to eat a genuine steak for a change. Since I've been cooking just for Sarah and me I've made mostly salads and vegetarian stuff. And she eats practically nothing. I'm worried about her—I’ve been reading up on anorexia."
    Elma chewed a bite of meat slowly, swallowed it and added, "It certainly