Thirteen Diamonds

suppose so.”
    “Was Gerald the one who was dealt the hand of 13 diamonds you saw once before?”
    “I'm sorry?”  Ellen looked blank.
    “You told me that you had seen a hand of 13 diamonds dealt once before, a long time ago.”
    “Not me. You must be thinking of somebody else.”
    All right, play that game, I thought. I had another point to make. I said, “Back when Max and Gerald were working together, you must have invited each other over for dinner.” Ellen's expression became guarded so I continued, quickly, “So you obviously knew about his allergy to shellfish.”
    Ellen pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. “I have to go,” she said, coldly. “Thank you for lunch.” She marched past us and out the door, without looking back.
    Tess watched the door close behind her and then got up and retrieved her yellow pad. She riffled through several pages, stopped at one and said, “When you talked to Ellen on the croquet course she told you that she didn't know about Gerald's allergy to shellfish because they weren't close friends.”
    I said, “I think we're seeing a pattern of lying here.”

CHAPTER 17
     
    “Thank you for inviting me, Lillian,” Mark said as he and Sandra and I lined up to be seated in the Silver Acres dining room. “This place looks very elegant.”
    Elegant may have been too strong a word, but the food was nourishing and there were tablecloths on the tables. I figured Mark was a starving student, even though he had somehow managed to scrounge together enough money to fly to San Diego, and so any place where he could get a free meal would look elegant to him.
    I hoped that Sandra could see past his current penury, because of course after he obtained his graduate degree his earning power would be substantial. I liked Mark, even though Sandra still seemed to have reservations about him.
    Winston had been entrusted to Grampa Albert for a few hours. Albert made a good grandfather and enjoyed his time together with Winston, but like me he wanted to be able to love him and then leave him with his mother.
    I asked the student waitress to seat us in a corner. My reasoning was that we would be able to look at other diners without being obvious about it. We read our menus and carried on light conversation while I scanned the dining room with one eye.
    After I saw two of the people I was looking for come in with separate groups, I figured it was time for us to go to he salad bar. I led us by way of the table where Ida had just been seated with another lady, who I didn't know.
    “Hello, Ida,” I said, breezily, as we came to her table. “I hope we'll see you at bridge club tomorrow.” I had volunteered to be Wesley's assistant with the bridge club, and one of my jobs was to count how many people would be attending each meeting so that we would know how many tables we would have and whether the number of players was divisible by four.
    Ida responded affirmatively, and I said, “I'd like you to meet my granddaughter, Sandra and her boyfriend, Mark.” Both of them shook hands with Ida, who then introduced us to her dinner partner, whose name I didn't quite catch.
    From there we went on to a table where Dora was sitting with two other women. I went through the same process with Dora, who said that she would be attending bridge club. Then the three of us continued to the salad bar, filled our plates and returned to our table. I noticed that Mark filled his plate to overflowing. During the meals he had eaten with us in San Diego he had not stinted on food.
    As we dove into our salads Mark shook his head. “The first one is too big,” he said, “and the second is too little.”
    “I thought we all looked alike to you,” I teased.
    He grinned and said, “I'm never going to live that down, am I?”
    Well, if Mark hadn't delivered the lobster to Ida or Dora, could he have delivered it to Harriet or Ellen? Their body sizes were both between those of Ida and Dora. Neither had yet made an appearance in the dining room.
    During the main course our conversation turned to Gerald's bridge hand of 13 diamonds. When I explained to Mark that it had been a fraud and wondered out loud how the decks could have been switched, he said, “In addition to my other dubious talents, I'm somewhat of a magician and have practiced sleight-of-hand. Maybe we can figure out how it was done. Tell me the exact sequence of events in dealing a bridge hand.”
    “The dealer deals all the cards, one at a