Cat of the Century (7 page)

“No.”

“Many of our alumnae and alumni and friends, as well as people who did not attend here but who are attracted to our ethic and our commitment to the student, make William Woods University a beneficiary of a will, insurance policy, or trust. Tally is a member of the Ivy League Society, but she warns us that she intends to live forever.”

Harry laughed. “She’s making a run for it.”

“I so look forward to seeing her tomorrow and to hearing her speech on the very day she hits the century mark.”

At that moment, feeling a Tanqueray glow, Tally was discussing her speech.

“And …?” She had given Inez the gist of it.

“Blossom, reality is always in order. From what you’ve told me, that’s what you’re doing: telling the truth. Odd, isn’t it? We try to tell the truth throughout our lives, but for some reason people don’t begin to listen until we’re old.”

“Idiots!” Aunt Tally waved a dismissive hand.

“More by the minute, too.” Inez settled back in the comfortable chair. “People believe what they see on TV. Astonishes me. Or what beeps up from their handheld BlackBerries and whatever.”

“All of that controlled by large corporations. Well, not blogging and messages, but I am always suspicious where large profits are in order. I mean, Chickpea, there’s not big money to be made from a tablet and a pen. Electrify it and … well.”

“Profits, yes, but I don’t think the power companies are perverting messages. However, all these devices draw power and give off heat. And think about it: You can’t just throw out a computer. There are chips and things in there that apparently become dangerous when disintegrating, so they must be properly disposed of. If that is the case—and according to our refuse rules in Virginia, it is—then why aren’t they
dangerous to use? Isn’t heat coming off the screen? Aren’t those little semiconductors and wires emitting fumes or something unhealthy?” Inez, trained in the scientific method, was highly suspicious.

“Of course. Call attention to it with proof, and everyone and everything tied to computers will deny it. Remember when the tobacco industry fought the truth? How blindly stupid of them. Am I against smoking? No. But it damages the lungs. End of story. Am I against computers? No. But they damage the eyes and God knows what else.”

“Truth is ever and always in short supply.” Inez smiled ruefully.

Aunt Tally raised her voice. “You know what, I don’t give a damn. I care about my people. If other people want to be sheep, let them march off to be sheared or, worse, to the slaughterhouse. You can’t save people who won’t save themselves.”

“I suppose the truth is, you don’t want them to take you down with them.” Inez drew a deep breath. “To change the subject, this alumnae committee is making an old woman older.”

Slyly, Aunt Tally purred, “Is that possible?”

Inez laughed. “You’re older than I.”

Aunt Tally laughed, too. “Touché. What’s troubling you?”

Inez scrunched down deeper in the chair. Pewter had artfully placed herself on the padded area so Inez stroked her, which pleased the little egotist.

Aunt Tally raised her eyebrows.

“Before I answer your question, let me ask you one. Do you feel old?”

“Oh,” a pause followed, “when I get out of bed it takes me fifteen minutes to straighten up. And I never feel old when I take my medicine.” She held up her martini glass. “Truthfully, no. I look in the mirror. I know I’m old, but inside I don’t feel it.”

“I didn’t. I do now.”

“Why, you look the same to me. You have boundless energy. And you take no prisoners. You haven’t changed.”

“I realize I don’t relish solving problems like I once did. I thank Mariah D’Angelo and Flo Langston for that.”

“Really?” Aunt Tally’s eyebrows shot upward quickly.

“Yes. There was a time when I would have felt such accomplishment in harnessing those two to pull together. Now I think I can do it but I’m
tired, tired of people’s petty damned egos. If I didn’t love our alma mater so much, I’d have chucked the whole bag of beans.”

Aunt Tally rubbed her tennis elbow, which ached from the increasing low pressure. “Can’t Liz resume being chairwoman?”

“Hell, no. That’s why Jahnae asked me to again chair the committee. Liz bounced between Mariah and Flo like a shuttlecock.”

“I thought our broker was Flo’s creature.” Then Aunt Tally corrected herself. “I’m talking about only a small portion of my discretionary funds when I call Liz my broker; you know that Scott and Stringfellow manages the bulk of my family funds.” She cited a prestigious Virginia firm whose performance record and care of clients spanned most of the twentieth century.

“Yes and no. The board itself elected Liz their chair last year. She’s still young—well, young to us; she’s barely forty, if that.”

“Darling, these days they get face-lifts, boob jobs, fanny-lifts, tummy tucks at thirty.”

Inez wrinkled her nose. “All that violence done to young bodies. Well, back to your question, more or less. Liz pays great attention to Flo; after all, they are in the same business. But Mariah has pots of money. Liz tried to walk a middle course as chair, but they both overwhelmed her.”

“Hmm. I never perceived her as weak.”

“She isn’t. But those two are stronger, and she can’t please both.”

“She’s done a good job with your portfolio since Victor died, hasn’t she?” Aunt Tally mentioned Inez’s late financial adviser.

“She has, but she’s not really chairman or chairwoman material. I’m an interim, but we need to elect a new chair. Of course, first I have to convince Liz to resign.”

“Easy. Tell her we’ll both pull our accounts.”

“Blossom!”

“Inez, that’s the way the world works.”

“I’m not doing that. You know me better than that.”

“Meow.”
Pewter wanted Inez to continue petting her, as she’d stopped.

“Yes, I do, but that doesn’t prevent me from telling you the fastest way to achieve the desired result.”

“Me. Me. Me!”
Pewter raised her voice.

Inez looked at the cat, smiled, and resumed petting her. “The trick is to make Liz think this is her own idea.”

“Well, if anyone can do it, you can.”

“Yes, I think I can, but it gets back to my feeling old. Once I would have seen this as a game. I’d make up little goals and tick them off until I reached the final goal. Oh, you know, stuff like, first ten yards, introduce the concept in an offhand way. Second ten yards, mention the time this wrangling takes away from her true calling. You get the idea.”

“Clever.”

“Clever it may be, but I resent it. I
am
getting old.”

“Chickpea, people can feel management fatigue at forty-two. You just need a break.”

“Perhaps.” Inez felt better after listening to her dear friend. “There is one other little item, and this gets to the benefits of old age: One has many contacts, friends. When Mariah said at the meeting today that her computer crashed—”

Aunt Tally interrupted, “Wait a minute, I don’t know about this.”

“No one does, although I did have to tell Jahnae, who, being herself, remained calm and suggested a few paths to clarity. And you’d better be quiet. This is board business.”

“Oh, balls! I’m your best friend, your second skin and, furthermore, I will be one hundred years old tomorrow. I’m entitled to secrets!” She grinned, and in that grin, Inez saw her friend again as she was at twenty.

“I know it, but I had to say it. Okay, here’s the rub. Mariah is our treasurer. We open every meeting with the secretary’s report, followed by the treasurer’s report. Mariah said her computer crashed. She didn’t keep a written record.”

“Idiot. Young people really are stupid to trust machines.”

“Well, Blossom, we were idiots in our own way. We believed the War to End All Wars had done so.”

“All right.” Aunt Tally grimaced but held up her martini glass in a silent toast to Inez’s insight.

“I called Billy Bonito, who is president of the Big River Bank, where our account smolders.” She smiled.

“Billy Bonito who drove fine harness horses?”

“Still does, although he hasn’t the time to compete as he once did. You weren’t there in ’77. Sugarcane collapsed in a workout at the Kentucky State Fair. I was there as the guest of Paul Hamilton.”

“I miss him.” Aunt Tally recalled Joan’s late father, who had purchased Kalarama Farm after World War II. “Frances, too.” She mentioned his wife, Frances Paralee who passed in 2005 at age eighty-five.

“We were standing at the workout chute that led into the grand arena when she just dropped in the traces. I ran over, as there wasn’t time to find Billy’s regular vet. To make a long story a little shorter, I managed to save her. She retired to become a foundation broodmare for Billy.”

“Wonder if he’s still so handsome?”

“’Spect he is. Anyway, I flatly told him our problem and knew I was asking him to do something improper. He understood. For one thing, if something is amiss in that account, we’ve got to catch it right away.”

“And?” Aunt Tally was keen on this now.

“The account is in good order. However, Mariah did withdraw twenty-five thousand dollars, in cash, which she replaced today at 2:12
P
.
M
. She transferred money from a joint account—personal—at Big River.”

Sitting bolt upright, Aunt Tally whispered, “That’s not right.”

“I know it. I suspect that is why the computer crashed, and I put ‘crash’ in quotation marks.”

“Does she have the right to issue checks?”

“She does, but the twenty-five thousand was cash.

A silence followed. “Get rid of her. We can’t make a big deal out of it, but this must never happen again. No officer can write a check to herself.” Another pause. “Mariah doesn’t strike me as dumb enough to pull a stunt like this.”

“Me, neither. That’s what really worries me. The incongruity of it.”

“Any withdrawal, check or cash, is on a computer file.”

“Right.” Inez paused. “She then contributed twenty-five thousand to your fund with a personal check.”

“Oh, dear.”

Inez sighed. “This just doesn’t compute, forgive the pun.”

“Still, she has to go.”

“I know. I know. While I was at it, I did a little snooping around through friends. Her business—Fletcher, Maitland, and D’Angelo—is losing money. People aren’t buying much jewelry these days. Her husband’s construction business is down. He’s laid off thirty percent of his workers, but he does have large projects rolling, one of which is the new hospital near Independence, Missouri.”

A very long silence followed this. “Can you remove her without fanfare? But I’m not sure we should right at this moment. It would be easier to get the board to pass an amendment saying all checks need to be countersigned by the secretary. In fact, we should have done that years ago.” Aunt Tally nodded. “Andrea from Omaha is the secretary, and that one is sharp as a tack.”

“She is. I need to speak to her first, then build a consensus in a nonthreatening way. Even if I don’t specifically mention the twenty-five thousand dollars, if I float this issue it means Flo will take the warpath. She’ll sense Mariah has dropped the ball, and she’ll be relentless until she finds out. Even if she doesn’t, she’ll create more problems. I doubt Mariah will take this calmly, even though she’ll know I know.”

“Why?”

“I’ll tell her.”

“What a pickle.”

“Exactly.”

L
ooking out the window of the classroom, Liz saw Gayle giving Harry, Mrs. Murphy, and Tucker the garden tour of the Bancroft Center, the new Rowland Applied Riding Arena, and fenced areas.

She returned her blue-eyed gaze to the two women standing before her, neither one in good humor this afternoon. It was as though she’d overheard Inez and Aunt Tally discussing her lack of leadership. Had she known being chair of the alumnae board would prove so onerous, she’d never have accepted. Seeing Inez forcefully maintain order and keep the group on track only underscored her failings. She wanted to get herself back on course, not least because some of the women were her clients. Mostly it was due to ego. She’d resign soon enough, because this was a real pain in the rear end, but she wanted to do it on her own terms and after some small success.

She didn’t hustle the board for business any more than any of the other women did. Flo was a broker, as was she. Mariah owned and operated a high-end jewelry store in Kansas City. Andrea, along with her husband, owned a large trucking operation based just west of Omaha. DeeDee, from L.A., was one of the most successful real estate brokers in the vast easy-money city—well, easy one day, hard the next. Another member ran a large paving-stone company; one was a boutique grocer. The range of activities was impressive. A physician and a lawyer
were also on the board. Trudy Sweetwater worked for an irrigation company and Mo Avola bred Red Angus cattle.

Interestingly, no academics served. Liz once asked Inez why, and the thin old lady quipped, “They don’t know how to make real money.”

Liz wondered if John Maynard Keynes qualified as an academic and decided it was best not to counter Inez.

“Will you get to the point?” Mariah plopped behind a school desk.