The Inheritance (The Donatelli Series) (27 page)

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The next morning, Blade’s driver dropped him off in front of Mort’s building. Blade spent several minutes with Mort before they walked two blocks to Jacobs’ office. Mort said he’d scheduled a court date, but if Jacobs handed over the estate, it wouldn’t be necessary to go before a judge.

They rode the elevator up to the law offices. Two women were talking about the preparations for Colin’s retirement party. Blade flashed a friendly smile. “Are you talking about Colin Jacobs? He was my grandfather’s attorney. I didn’t know he was retiring.”

“May 3rd, but if you see him, don’t tell him about the party. It’s a surprise.”

“We won’t say a word,” said Mort.

The women got off on the same floor and headed in the opposite direction. Blade muttered, “He’s retiring with his cut of my grandfather’s stock.”

“We’re about to change his plans.” Mort opened the office door, ending their private conversation.

Jacobs’ personal assistant showed Mort and Blade to the inner office. Jacobs reached out to shake Mort’s hand, and then he saw Blade. “Mr. Banner, I didn’t expect to see you today.”

“It was a last minute trip,” said Blade. He shook hands with Jacobs and sat beside Mort. “How is the probate coming?”

“It’s right on schedule.”

Mort handed Jacobs the papers to turn the estate over to him and Blade, and Jacobs scanned them. Blade leaned back in his chair to watch.

Jacobs looked up. “According to the will—”

“Which you still haven’t given me a copy of,” said Blade.

“According to the will,” Jacobs said again, “the balance of the estate is not to be turned over until you marry, and then only if you marry by your fortieth birthday.”

Blade handed a copy of the marriage certificate to Jacobs. While Jacobs stared in stunned silence at the paper, Blade said, “I want control of the entire estate today, including every share of my grandfather’s stock in Banner-Covington.”

Jacobs didn’t respond, so Blade pushed on. “I also want an itemized list of the contents of the estate, including information on the property in Florida. I don’t even know where this winter house is located.”

“Palm Beach,” said Jacobs. “It’s on the ocean in Palm Beach.”

“Is it staffed?”

“Yes, there’s a couple who live on the property.”

“Who pays the bills? Did Edward have an accountant?”

Jacobs pulled a business card from his desk drawer and handed it to Blade. His hand shook. What was this guy afraid of?

Blade sat back in his chair and listened quietly while Jacobs and Mort took care of the legal details. He’d expected a fight, but all the fight had gone out of Jacobs, and he seemed resigned to doing what had to be done.

When the two attorneys finished their legal business, Blade said, “I expect you know that Sunny was murdered a few days ago. Do you want to tell me what in the hell is going on?”

Mort leaned forward. “Colin, you and I have worked together before, and I know you wouldn’t be involved in something shady unless you were forced to do so. Tell us what’s going on, so we can help you.”

Jacobs stared at his desk and shook his head slightly. For the first time, Blade wondered if he was a victim, too. Had someone used him to get what they wanted?

Still sitting in front of Jacobs’ desk, Blade pulled out his cell phone and called the private investigator, Lonnie Oppenheimer. “Did you get that information for me, Lonnie?”

“Vanessa Milhauser’s father, or stepfather, used to work for De Beers, in South Africa. De Beers controls the world diamond trade. They have mines in Africa, Australia, and South America. Vanessa’s stepfather, Hans Belzer, is the majority stockholder and CEO of Hanzer Ships.”

“What are they shipping?”

“I have no proof, but everything points to diamonds and guns. He knows about the diamond trade, including where to get conflict diamonds.”

“What’s that?”

“They’re also called blood diamonds. They’re sold to fund the wars in different African countries.”

“Okay. How much Banner-Covington stock does this guy control?”

“He and his family own thirty percent outright, and then there are the shares owned by the three on the board you told me about—Jacobs, Baker, and Adler. The total is forty-two percent.”

“I’ll get back to you.” Blade tucked his phone in his pocket. “How many shares of Banner-Covington do you own, Jacobs?”

“Edward paid me in stock and I’ve bought a few shares of my own.”

“If I can find a buyer, will you sell them?” asked Mort.

After a slight hesitation, Jacobs nodded. “Yes.”

Blade knew if they didn’t buy those shares quickly that Jacobs could change his mind, or have it changed for him. “Excuse me for one minute.”

Stepping outside the office, Blade called Gordon Phillips. “Jacobs is willing to sell his company stock, and I now have control of Edward’s stock. Can we get an emergency vote of the Board of Directors to buy back Jacobs’ stock?”

“We can try.”

“Do we have enough votes without Milhauser, Adler, and Baker?”

“Yes. What’s the rush?”

“Vanessa Milhauser’s family controls thirty percent of the stock in Banner-Covington, and that’s without Adler and Jacobs and Baker.”

“I had no idea they owned that much.”

“Do the math and see what you can do. This is urgent, Gordon. Someone murdered my stepmother a few days ago, and Jacobs had been in touch with her. If he didn’t have her killed, he could be next, and we don’t want that much stock in limbo. If they buy Jacobs’ shares, we could lose everything.”

“I’ll set up a conference call right now, minus Adler, Baker, and Milhauser. I hope the company can come up with that much money on short notice.”

“If the company can’t come up with enough, I’ll find another way.” He could ask Cara for a loan. He didn’t know anyone else who had that kind of money at their disposal. If necessary, he’d sell her some of the artwork he’d kept for his own home.

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After the meeting, Blade had lunch with Mort and then returned to his hotel to change into his jeans. He’d never get used to wearing a suit and tie all day.

The meeting with Jacobs went better than he’d expected, but it left doubts about Jacobs’ involvement in Sunny’s shooting. If he didn’t have it done, who did? It could be over drug money, but if that was it, wouldn’t they have killed her before?

Blade called his driver and rode over to the house on Long Island. Marvin let him in, and the normally reserved butler smiled a greeting. “How nice to see you again, Mr. Banner.”

“I thought I’d walk through the house again, make sure we didn’t miss anything.”

Marvin cleared his throat. “Did you get the contents of the second safe?”

“The only safe I know about is the one in the study. Are you telling me there’s another one?”

“Yes, sir. It’s behind the drawers in Mr. Banner’s bedroom closet. I just assumed that since you’d found the other one...”

Blade took the stairs two at a time. In the console in the middle of the walk-in closet, behind two drawers, he found the door to the safe. On a hunch, he tried the same combination he’d used on the safe in the study. The lock snicked and the door opened. Blade pulled out several small black velvet bags, a bundle of letters from Father Michael, two small paintings, and a stack of cash and put it all on the counter on top of the console. Each one of the velvet bags was filled with sparkling stones.
Diamonds.

He looked up to see Marvin standing in the doorway. He held a small tapestry valise. “I thought you might need this.”

“Yes, thanks. Marvin, did Mr. Jacobs know about this safe?”

“No, sir, I don’t believe so.”

“Then we’ll keep it a secret. Mr. Jacobs won’t be coming here again. He is no longer handling the estate. Mort Schuler is now in charge.” Blade pulled a card from his shirt pocket and handed it to Marvin.

“Thank you, sir. Bridget left yesterday, but I just now made a pot of coffee if you’d like a cup.”

Blade nodded. “Yes, thank you. I’ll be down in a few minutes. I want to walk through the house first.”

He packed the valise and left it on the console, and then he started at the top, in the attic. It was empty. The three suites and the playroom on the third floor were also empty. The carpeted rooms had been vacuumed, the wood floors were polished and gleaming, the bathrooms scrubbed, and the furniture gone. Margaret and Bridget had done a good job.

The second floor was as clean as the third, but just to be sure he hadn’t missed something, Blade sat on the floor in Mary Beth’s closet and pulled out all the drawers in the console. He wasn’t surprised to find another safe with the same combination—her wedding date—and more diamonds. And to think he might have missed these treasures. There were no paintings in this safe, but there were several small sculptures, all hollow inside. A small stone spilled out of one and he put it in the bag with the other stones.

Had Blade’s uncle, the priest, been smuggling diamonds out of Africa?

Blade finished his inspection of the upper floors, packed the valise, and carried it downstairs to the kitchen. Marvin poured him a cup of coffee and they sat together at the pine table. “Tell me something, Marvin. How did Father Michael die?”

“He was murdered, shot down by insurgents in Angola. His body is still there.”

“What proof did my grandparents have that he was killed?”

“A letter from Sister Bernadette, the only survivor of the massacre at the mission. Mrs. Banner read the letter so much Edward said she’d wear the letters off the pages. And then she put it away.”

Blade had found one letter in Mary Beth’s safe, and it wasn’t from Father Michael. He pulled it out of the valise and opened the letter inside. Sister Bernadette had written a touching account of Father Michael’s death in May of 1980. He’d been accused of treason, blindfolded, and executed by a firing squad, as were the other religious leaders of the mission. Sister Bernadette had been ill with malaria when she heard the gunshots. She hid behind the bed until the firing stopped. Some of the natives helped her prepare the bodies for burial, and Sister Bernadette, the only nun left alive, performed the burial service herself. The letter was mailed in September, from France, and she’d mentioned nothing about diamonds.

Again, Blade called Gordon Phillips. “Did you get that conference call set up?”

“We’re doing it now. I thought this was Joe calling.”

“Okay. Do you know anything about diamonds?”

“Other than the ones I bought for my wife, no, but I know someone who does.”

“Who and where? I just found the mother lode in my grandfather’s house.”

Phillips put him on hold and when he came back on the line, he gave Blade the name and address of his brother’s jewelry store. “His shop is about to close, but he’ll stay open until you get there. If the shop is locked, tap on the door and tell him who you are.”

Once again, Blade was thankful for having a driver, someone who knew the city well. The jewelry store was located in the ground floor of a building a few blocks from his hotel, so Blade dismissed the driver for the evening. He took his valise, tapped on the locked door, and a man inside called, “Who is it?”

“Blade Banner.”

Paul Phillips unlocked the door and stepped back. Blade walked inside, and the door locked behind him. “Gordon said you had something for me.”

Blade followed Paul into the back room and pulled out one bag of diamonds. “I need to know if these are real, and if they are, what they’re worth.”

Paul put his glasses on and examined the three largest diamonds from that bag. “They’re real and they’re unmarked. Conflict diamonds?”

“I think so. I found them in my grandfather’s safe. I haven’t read all the letters from my uncle yet, but I believe he was involved in smuggling them out of Angola.”

“You don’t know?”

“My uncle was a priest who died at a mission in Angola in 1980, murdered supposedly by insurgents. I didn’t know how he died until today, after I found the diamonds.” Blade reached in the valise and pulled out the other bags, eleven in all.