Scam

of a bitch!”
    I held up my hand. “I admit, a very rude thing to say. But being a murder suspect has robbed me of some of the social graces. If I go to trial, your relationship with the widow Pritchert may be material to my defense. Just thought you should be prepared.”
    Rothstein sat down again. When he stood up, his face had been flushed. Now it looked decidedly pale.
    “You’d go after me?” he said. “You’d actually go after me?”
    I shrugged. “A case like this, they look for reasonable doubt. You’re about as reasonable as they come.” I put up my hand again. “But I have no intention of letting this go to trial. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m asking questions. I didn’t do it, and I’m trying to find out who did. If I can, I’ll nail ’em. If I can’t, I might have to frame you.”
    Rothstein blinked. “What?”
    “In a manner of speaking. Someone framed me, I have to fight back. But, please don’t get upset. It’s not like I’d plant any clues, tell any lies. Still, your relationship with Miriam Pritchert could be misconstrued. You see what I mean?”
    He blinked again. “You’re threatening me?”
    “Heaven forbid. I’m asking for help. I’m telling you what I don’t want to do. So you can help me not to do it.”
    Rothstein couldn’t seem to think of a thing to say.
    “Let’s start over,” I said. “No threats one way or another. No one calling the cops, no one embarrassing you. Just you and me, a couple of stockholders, takin’ it easy and shootin’ the shit. So, what’d you think of the meeting last night?”
    Rothstein gulped. “Jesus Christ.”
    I nodded. “Good assessment. Now, here’s the thing. What do you think Amy Greenberg’s game is—she vote herself in for a lark, or does she mean to make trouble?”
    “I have no idea.”
    “Me, either. As a stockholder, I’m rather concerned. But at least I don’t work here. You sending resumes out?”
    Rothstein looked guarded. “As you say, it’s too soon to know.”
    “Uh-huh,” I said. “A bit of a problem. A babe in charge who’s immune to your charms. I can’t think of anything worse. So, tell me something. Did it surprise you?”
    “What?”
    “The way the proxies went.”
    Rothstein exhaled. “I’ll say. It never occurred to me. And yet, it makes sense. People used to writing in Greenberg do it as a matter of course. Still, who would have thought that so many would.”
    “And there’s nothing to be done?” I said. “I mean, if these people really didn’t know. Assuming they wouldn’t have given her the vote—is there a way to let them vote again?”
    The guarded look came into Rothstein’s eyes again.
    “Oh,” I said. “Of course. There is, and you’ve considered it. You’re considering it now. But you don’t want anyone to know it.”
    Rothstein exhaled. “Jesus,” he said.
    I nodded. “Of course. Because you’re afraid Amy Greenberg might find out. And if she found out, she’d fire you. Which would be a pretty effective answer to your demand for a recount.”
    Rothstein said nothing.
    “On the other hand,” I went on, “if you just shut up, and work quietly behind her back, you can line up enough stockholders to take control of the next meeting and vote her out.” I looked at him. “How’m I doin’ so far?”
    Rothstein ran his hand through his hair. Somehow, it seemed thinner than when the conversation had started. “I thought you knew nothing about business.”
    “I don’t. I happen to know a little bit about human nature. Well, now. We’ve talked about everything else. Let’s try the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question. You happen to shoot . Cranston Pritchert?”
    “No, I did not.”
    “I’m glad to hear it,” I said. I looked him up and down. Cocked, my head. “If that happens to be true, it might just be the only thing that you and I have in common.”

43.
    I FOUND A MY G REENBERG LOUNGING in her front yard in a bikini bathing suit. She didn’t look bad.
    “So,” I said. “This is what being chairman of the board is like.”
    She sprang up when she saw me, took a few steps toward the front door. “You stay away from me,” she said. “You come any closer, I’ll call the cops.”
    “Sure, why should you be different?” I said. “Ask for Sergeant Belcher. He’s the one handling the case.”
    She crinkled up her nose. “What?”
    “I realize since the last time I talked to you I’ve become a bit of a persona non grata.