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."