Some of the pure fury was fading from O'Rielly's face, to be replaced by an icy bitterness and more than a little discomfort. "What, off the record with your little pet lie detector Benedar there somewhere?" he sneered, eyes darting around as he searched the limits of his screen for some sign of me. The sarcasm wasn't nearly strong enough to cover his discomfort. "Or did you think I didn't know about him?"
Lord Kelsey-Ramos had indeed thought that, but only I caught his annoyance. "I take it that means you'll save your statement for the board meeting, then," he told O'Rielly. "Equally fine. Have your secretary call mine when you've scheduled the meeting. Oh, and we'll be wanting to send a rep to Solitaire to check on your locals there. I'd appreciate it if you'd send word to Whitecliff to expect him."
O'Rielly's lip twisted. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you? You've been trying to get your sticky little fingers on a Solitaire license for, what, eight years now?"
"Closer to ten," Lord Kelsey-Ramos said coolly. "Not that it matters. I'll be sending a courier over to your office within the hour; kindly have copies of all your records and documents ready by then. Good morning to you, Mr. O'Rielly."
He waved his control stick, and the display blanked. "And that is that," he commented, dropping the stick on his desk and looking up at me again. Some of the thrill and triumph was draining out of him now, leaving a measure of tiredness behind. "A very profitable day's work, I'd say."
I nodded, a neutral enough response. "You'll be going out to Solitaire yourself, I take it?"
He smiled. "Is it that—?" Abruptly, the smile vanished. "Is it that obvious?" he asked cautiously.
The paranoia of the wealthy. "It is to me."
A muscle in his cheek tightened. "Could it have been obvious to O'Rielly, too?"