“Hello, Jerry, how are you?” Alice grabbed Jerry’s elbow and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Jerry had tried to tame his hair and had quickly polished off half a roll of breath mints, but he hadn’t completely overcome his dishevelment. Nor had he done anything about a subtle ripeness that hovered around him like an invisible cloud. Alice recoiled a little.

“I was just saying to Max,” Jerry continued as Edmund joined them, “what a wonderful couple Alice and Edmund are. And little Darius makes three. Beautiful wife, a healthy heir, this stunning house. Edmund, you are a lucky SOB. The man who has everything. Wasn’t I just saying that, Max?”

“Absolutely, Jerry, and who could disagree?” Max had no idea what Jerry was talking about, but he played along. Two minutes earlier Jerry had been all but dead to the world.

Jerry had his arm around Alice’s shoulder as the group filed into the house. Edmund wondered what on earth was going on. Jerry had never shown the slightest interest in Alice, nor Edmund in Charlotte Trotter. They didn’t have that kind of relationship—it was all business.

“Russell here? Ah yes, there you are,” Jerry said, spying Russell emerging from the library.

“Can I get you gentlemen anything?” Alice asked, extricating herself from Jerry’s grip. Jerry moved to lean against a wall. From Edmund’s perspective it appeared as if Jerry was having trouble standing up.

“I’d love a coffee, thanks, Alice. You have one of those fancy machines, right? As strong as it comes, and in a large mug if you wouldn’t mind. Didn’t sleep so well last night.”

Alice moved toward the kitchen and the four men stood in Edmund’s expansive entryway.

“We don’t have all the paperwork from Statistical Solutions corroborating the concerns we have about the bell curves,” Edmund said, eager to get the ball rolling.

“I don’t care about that,” Jerry said. “It’s as bad as you thought. Actually, it’s probably worse than you feared. We have to preserve the capital we’ve invested, and the only way to do so is to act quickly and decisively. Like now.”

“Well, shall we go into the library and sit down and talk about it?” Edmund asked. “Or the living room?”

“No, Edmund,” Jerry said, suddenly sounding more focused. “You and I are going for a little walk outside.”

“A walk? It’s freezing out there! It’s going to snow later.”

“Don’t worry, Edmund, you’re not going to freeze to death. Go grab a coat.”

As Russell and Max moved into Edmund’s library, Edmund and Jerry stepped outside, Edmund fortified by a woolen overcoat, Jerry by the coffee Alice had made. It was five shots of espresso staining the inside of a Syracuse University mug.