Cy the Cynic entered the club lounge like Caesar returning in triumph from the Gallic Wars.
“There is hope,” Cy bellowed. “I finally got the better of her.”
“Your team won a match against Minnie’s team?” I asked.
“By a hair,” the Cynic crowed. “And I have proof of what I’ve suspected: She’s an expert disguised as a little old lady.”
Minnie Bottoms wears old bifocals that make her mix up kings and jacks, often to her opponents’ dismay. Cy has been her most frequent victim. As West he had led a diamond against 3NT, and dummy’s 10 won.
“Minnie was declarer,” Cy said. “She next took her A-K of clubs . . . and called for ‘dummy’s’ king!”
“She thought she had the A-J and dummy had the K-Q-10-4,” I laughed. “She was overtaking her ‘jack’ to run the clubs.”
“We set her straight,” Cy said, “and she next led the jack of spades!” “Thinking it was the king,” I observed.
“If I take the queen and set up my diamonds,” Cy said, “Minnie can reach dummy with the 10 of spades, winning four clubs, three spades and two diamonds. But I outfoxed her: I ducked, and she won an extra spade trick but only two clubs. She took only eight tricks in all.”
At the other table, South, Cy’s teammate, did better by leading a spade from dummy to his jack at Trick Two. West won, and South made the game.
“So you think Minnie is an expert?” I asked Cy.
“Sure. If she can’t tell a king from a jack, why did she open 2NT? If her kings were jacks, she had only 16 points.”
Cy may be right. Minnie may be fooling us all.