Read The Philanthropist's Danse Online

Authors: Paul Wornham

Tags: #FICTION / Mystery & Detective / General, #Fiction / Thrillers, #Fiction / Suspense, #FIC030000, #FIC031000, #FIC022000

The Philanthropist's Danse (11 page)

BOOK: The Philanthropist's Danse
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MacLean immediately got down to business. “We’re making good progress, but I’m mindful we only have until midnight to get everything squared away. With that in mind I have a new motion.” He looked at directly at Caroline, but she was unflustered as he played the hand she expected and was prepared against. “I propose we remove Ms. Caroline Smith with immediate effect and without compensation.”

Smith maintained her serene composure and looked forward to the moment the family realized they could not screw her out of her share of the fortune. She wanted to watch Junior’s face when he realized he couldn’t beat her. William asked if she had anything to say, but she smiled and shook her head. He accepted Junior as seconder of the motion and reminded them that they required eight or more votes to pass. He opened his spreadsheet and began the roll call. “Mr. MacLean?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. MacLean votes aye.”

“Mr. Johnston C. Thurwell III?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Thurwell votes aye.”

“Ms. Bethany Thurwell?”

“Yes.”

“Ms. Thurwell votes aye.”

“Mr. Philip Thurwell?”

“Yeah.”

“Mr. Thurwell votes aye.”

“Ms. Camille Jolivet?”

“Oui, yes”

“Ms. Jolivet votes aye.”

“Mrs. Janice Elliot?”

“Yes.”

“Mrs. Elliot votes aye.”

Caroline stared at Janice. Her face darkened, and she began to tremble, had she been played for a fool? Her mind reeled when she heard the next vote. “Mr. Dennis Elliot?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Elliot votes aye.”

Caroline was betrayed. The scheming bitch housemaid had played her for a sucker. She had probably been sent by the family to mess with her. She heard Bird’s voice, but it seemed a thousand miles away. “Caroline, I must know how you vote.” It was clear he had been asking for a while, but she hadn’t heard him. She gathered herself, trying to retain some dignity. “No.”

“Mrs. Smith votes nay.”

“Ms. Elizabeth Freah?”

“Yes.”

“Ms. Freah votes aye.”

“Mrs. Winifred Tremethick?”

“Yes.”

“Mrs. Tremethick votes aye.”

William looked at the tally. “The motion is passed, nine votes to one. Caroline, you need to leave the room. I’ll call you later to... Caroline?”

Smith was rigid, she heard nothing. Her eyes were on Janice, glaring at the woman that only a few moments before she thought was her ally.

She saw Junior smirking. He had done this. It must have been his plan to send Janice to trap her. Rage boiled within her. “You smug pricks, I hate you.”

Bird stood. “That’s enough Caroline. You have to go. Now.”

She shot a look at him. “Fuck you, lawyer. I bet you were in on this, you goddamn bloodsucking shyster.” Smith lost control, her hands balled into tight fists as she turned to Janice. “You bitch. I’ll ruin you, you back-stabbing, trailer-trash whore.”

William summoned help and with relief saw Jeremy enter the room with one of his female staff. They took Janice by each arm, but she didn’t fight. She was still shouting insults at Janice as she was escorted out, her voice full of malice even as it grew fainter in the lobby. Caroline’s voice became more distant until quiet returned, but a thick tension hung over everyone at the table.

Janice held her hands under the table to stop them from shaking. She repeated
twenty million, twenty million, twenty million
to remind herself that enduring Smith’s vicious outburst was worth it.

She saw Dennis look at her with a mix of shock and fear. She had not told him the entire plan, she had not had time before William called the group to order, but he agreed to follow her lead. She would need to fill him in on the details later, but it didn’t matter. The deed was done, and their future was now secure.

$

William was surprised how efficiently the family had removed three people without sharing a single dollar. They had no idea the pot had been reduced by Freddie’s settlement, and they never would. The group would decide shares by percentages and would only learn the dollar value of a person’s share if they worked it back from their own settlement after everyone was paid.

Bird looked at MacLean and raised an eyebrow, wondering if they were done removing people yet. Larry saw the look and addressed the whole group. “Ladies and gentleman, on behalf of the family, thank you for your support. I can reassure you there will be no more votes to remove anyone without a share of the money. However, the family maintains its claim to the majority of the fortune. The balance is to be shared equally among you. To be clear, we are discussing shares for Betty and Mrs. Tremethick. Mr. and Mrs. Elliot have agreed to a fixed settlement in return for their support.”

Dennis was surprised and shot his wife a sharp look. He had no idea he was involved in a plot, and he hoped Janice had sold their support for enough. He desperately wanted to talk to his wife, but he couldn’t interrupt Larry, so he held his tongue and worried. MacLean was talking to Betty. “Ms. Freah, we understand your relationship with Johnston, and while some in the family disapproved of it, we will respect his wish for you to share his wealth.”

He looked quickly at Bethany as he spoke, but she offered a quick smile to the woman she had hated for demeaning her father’s reputation. Betty was far more generous with the return of her smile because she could sense an offer was coming.

Larry turned to the old Englishwoman. “Mrs. Tremethick, we really have no idea why you are here and you claim the same lack of knowledge. I’d very much like to chat with you about your role in Johnston’s past. I don’t doubt there was one and that it meant enough to him to bring you here.”

The old lady nodded, she was tired from listening to people argue. Jetlag had caught up to her again, and she wanted to close her eyes for a few minutes rest, but no one seemed ready to stop talking. “Sir, I’ll be happy to have that conversation, but can we just get this business over with? I’m tired.”

MacLean nodded, he could see the end in sight. “Betty, we propose you get five per cent of the fortune and Mrs. Tremethick the same. The family and I will share the rest and pay Janice and Dennis out of our settlement. Seven people will share ninety percent. You two share the balance, ten percent.”

Betty answered with a smile, but there was an edge to her voice. “I think five points is a bit low, Larry. I agree with getting the same as Mrs. Tremethick. However, we helped you get rid of three people. I think you can do better than ten percent.” Winnie looked in wonder at Betty, she hadn’t dreamed of asking for more and she marveled at the younger woman’s courage in asking.

Larry contemplated Betty with a small smile on his lips, he had figured it was worth a shot to go for a lowball offer. “How much is enough, Betty?” She shot back immediately. “Ten percent. Each.”

MacLean shook his head. “No, that’s too much. Remember, this is a huge fortune. Five percent of a lot is still a lot. Seven and a half percent, each.” Betty sat back and thought about it. She could hold out and push them toward midnight until they cracked, but what if they didn’t. The old lady was no help. She just sat and let Betty do all the work. The problem was that Betty did not know how much she was negotiating for. It was frustrating to deal in percentages and only guess at the dollars.

JT had been a billionaire, so it had to be a lot of money and she had already got her share up to seven and a half, but she hated to give MacLean the last word. “Eight points then, I’ll agree to eight.” MacLean took a quick look around the family and saw some frustration but no one voiced an objection.

He looked at Winnie Tremethick. “Mrs. Tremethick, will you settle for an eight percent share?” She looked at him and nodded. “If it gets us finished so I can go home, yes.”

Larry looked at William who furiously scribbled notes. “Bill, I think we’re done. The family takes eighty-four percent and will see to the payment of the Elliots and myself out of their share. Betty and Mrs. Tremethick will take eight percent each.”

William smiled. “Of course, but you must vote on it. The motion is the family receives 84% of the money. Betty Freah and Mrs. Tremethick each take 8%. Mr. and Mrs. Elliot and you, Larry, will be rewarded from the family’s share. Do I have the details correct?”

“Yes, I’ll propose the motion.”

Junior seconded and William reached for his laptop for the last time.

“Mr. MacLean?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. MacLean votes aye.”

“Mr. Johnston C. Thurwell III?”

“Aye.”

“Mr. Thurwell votes aye.”

“Ms. Bethany Thurwell?”

“Yes.”

“Ms. Thurwell votes aye.”

“Mr. Philip Thurwell?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Mr. Thurwell votes aye.”

“Ms. Camille Jolivet?”

“Oui.”

“Ms. Jolivet votes aye.”

“Mrs. Janice Elliot?”

“Yes.”

“Mrs. Elliot votes aye.”

“Mr. Dennis Elliot?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Elliot votes aye.”

“Ms. Elizabeth Freah?”

“Yes.”

“Ms. Freah votes aye.”

“Mrs. Winifred Tremethick?”

“Yes.”

“Mrs. Tremethick votes aye.”

Bird looked up and smiled. “Congratulations. Well done indeed. I will prepare the settlements this evening. We will meet tomorrow morning, when I set up your accounts and distribute the money. You will find out then what your share is worth. Larry, I’ll need the distributions for the family, please make sure you have those ready when we reconvene.”

MacLean nodded, it wouldn’t take long to figure out. William saw happy faces all around and was quietly relieved at the swift conclusion of the
Danse
.

“Since you reached an agreement on the first day, the clock is stopped. There will be no penalty at midnight. You will receive shares of the entire fortune in the morning and then we’ll have a formal dinner tomorrow night. Once that is over, you are free to leave.”

They broke into spontaneous applause to signal the successful end to a stressful day. Even Winnie Tremethick smiled though her tiredness. Bird shook MacLean’s hand and then everyone else’s in turn. A quick peck on the cheek from Bethany surprised him, and it was soon followed by another from Camille Jolivet. As he left them, Bird looked over his shoulder and saw nine smiling faces. Even the old lady had been caught up in the moment as her arm was pumped energetically by Betty, who squealed. “We’re rich!”

Chapter Thirteen

W
illiam Bird closed his office door behind him, ensuring that the lock engaged so he wouldn’t be interrupted. The room was cool and quiet, a welcome change from the charged atmosphere of the conference room. He opened his master spreadsheet on his laptop and began to calculate each person’s share.

He entered zeroes next to Ron Freeman and Caroline Smith’s names and punched in the amount of Freddie Hagood’s settlement. He entered an eight percent share for Winnie Tremethick and Betty Freah. The rest would have to wait until Larry gave him the numbers for the family and their payoffs in the morning.

His next task was to check the current value of the philanthropist’s fortune with the bank. He had no idea how much interest would have accumulated since he moved the philanthropist’s assets to one offshore account, but it would be significant. William pulled up a secure web interface for a discreet bank in Zurich, Switzerland and plugged a USB fingerprint reader into the laptop. After he entered a sixteen-digit password, he placed his thumb on the pad and slowly counted to five.

Within moments, his private telephone rang. Bird answered and spoke his password at an auto-prompt. The bank’s security system verified his password, voiceprint and thumbprint, and he was granted online access to the master account.

William saw the twelve accounts he had set up before his guests arrived at the mansion. Each numbered account held only $25 and had no name associated with it. In the morning, ten of the twelve accounts would receive large transfers, the remaining two he would close.

He smiled in satisfaction. Everything was in order at the bank. He entered a request for an up-to-date balance to be provided at 8am the next morning and logged off.

It was time for William to visit the people who had been eliminated. Freddie would be easy, for he was taking a secret share of the money with him. The Judge and Caroline Smith would be more difficult. Both were to leave with nothing, and the lawyer did not relish the thought of meeting either one of them.

$

Judge Ron Freeman had made his way to his suite in a daze after his humiliating eviction. He was ruined, his political future was ashes, and he may still have to live with the threat of Freddie Hagood’s curiosity. He barely made it to the washroom where he threw up in the tub. He sank to his knees and wept angry tears with his shoes and pants splattered with vomit.

He did not recall how long he stayed in that position. He was aware of someone knocking at the door, but he ignored it and after a while the person stopped. Freeman figured it was Hagood, but Freddie could go to hell. When the telephone rang, he ignored it.
Fuck you, Freddie
, he thought,
you didn’t lift a finger to help me.

Eventually, pain in his knees from the cold marble floor made him move. He lifted his head off the cool surface of the tub and rose to his feet. The tub was a mess and he’d gotten puke on the floor, and his clothes were smeared in filth. Freeman grimaced when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He turned the shower on and waited for the hot water to wash away the mess before he stepped in and scrubbed himself clean. He let the water run over him for a long time.

His telephone rang every 30 minutes, but he didn’t answer it. He was thinking about his bleak future when suddenly he knew what he must do to save himself. Sauce for the goose was also good for the gander, or so the saying went.

Freeman stepped from the shower a renewed man. He felt refreshed and wore a determined expression. He may have been forced into his desperate plan, but he felt ready for the mission ahead. He toweled himself dry and picked out a dark suit, a crisp white shirt and red silk tie. He looked at his puke-stained shoes and decided to wear another pair. They were not as new, but he was in no mood to clean up his best pair.

He looked at himself in the mirror and was pleased to see a Judge again, calm, confident and ready for the world. He took a seat and waited for the telephone to ring. When it did, he let it ring six times, braced himself for Freddie Hagood’s voice and picked up the receiver.

He was surprised to hear William Bird’s concerned voice. Freeman had been convinced Hagood was the one calling. He told the lawyer he would join him directly and hung up. It was good the lawyer called. He was the very man the Judge wanted to talk to. Perhaps it was a sign that his luck had changed.

Freeman found Jeremy waiting outside his suite, ready to escort him to Bird’s office. The major-domo led the Judge through the Library to the almost-hidden door and let Freeman in. He made inquiries about refreshments before leaving the two men to their business.

William looked at the Judge and was surprised by the man’s composure after his earlier anger at his elimination. “Judge Freeman, thank you for joining me, I was concerned you would never answer the telephone.”

Freeman offered no reply, but inclined his head slightly to encourage the lawyer to continue.

“Well, no matter. I need to discuss arrangements following the decision to deny you any share in Mr. Thurwell’s fortune.”

The Judge’s face twitched, but he remained silent. The lawyer read from prepared notes, ensuring he followed his instructions to the letter. “The meeting has been concluded. There will be a formal dinner tomorrow night, to which you are invited, and the following morning you and the others will return home. I will, of course, arrange transportation.”

The Judge was surprised to hear the meeting was over. What had happened after he’d been kicked out? He gave William an odd smile. “Mr. Bird, thank you for the update, but I have no intention of leaving empty-handed.”

William’s eyes narrowed as the Judge continued. “I do not accept the motion to dismiss me, and I expect the group to reconsider their decision. I expect you, Mr. Bird, to see that this happens.” The Judge spoke in the clear, precise voice he used for sentencing. His face was set in stone as he executed his desperate gambit.

Bird slid his note pad to one side, buying time to gather his thoughts before he responded. “I see. Perhaps you could explain to me, Judge Freeman, why I would intervene on your behalf and why, even if I were to do so, the others would reconsider their decision?”

Freeman knew the moment of truth had arrived and did not hesitate. “Mr. Bird, do you recall the first time we met, in my chambers in Macon?” William nodded and realized what was about to happen. He closed his eyes as the Judge continued. “You will recall that we came to an arrangement that was to the significant advantage of Philip Thurwell. I expect you to intervene on my behalf, because if you do not and I am denied a fair share, I will ensure the world hears about what happened in Macon. I am sure neither yourself nor your client’s family would want Philip’s crime to become public?”

The Judge delivered his demand without emotion, his deep voice even and calm. Bird thought for a moment before he responded. “Judge, if you bring our agreement into the public eye, I am sure you understand what will happen to your own career. You could even face jail for your role.”

The Judge’s eyes blazed in a moment of fury before he gained control of himself. “Mr. Bird, I have nothing to lose. Freddie Hagood suspects me of something, and once he is free from this place, I have no doubt he will work until he has discovered the truth. I have no future, Mr. Bird. I have nothing to lose. But I do have something to gain.”

William suddenly understood that the threat of exposure by Freddie Hagood had driven Freeman to act recklessly to save his skin. “Very well, Freeman. The group has adjourned for the day. The morning session will begin at nine tomorrow morning, I recommend you be there.”

Freeman smiled. It had been far easier than he dared imagine. No wonder he presided over so many extortion cases. When it paid off, it was worth it. He thanked Bird, who dismissed him but refused to shake his hand. He left the lawyer’s office and returned to his suite, smiling broadly at a startled cluster of the family who were on their way to the dining room. Their smiles faded as he passed them and none could meet his eye.

$

William waited for the Judge to leave his office, sighed deeply and rested his head on the soft leather back of his chair. His job had just become more difficult, and things would no doubt take a turn for the worse when the others heard about Freeman’s demands.

He walked to a small reproduction Monet painting on the wall and pulled it open on a hidden hinge to access his safe. He punched a code into the keypad and heard the click of the locks as they released. The safe was neatly organized, with stacks of cash in various currencies on one side and a pile of identical yellow envelopes on the other. For the second time that day he reached for the envelopes and flipped through them until he found the one he needed.

Bird already knew most of what was inside. It was one of the few envelopes the Old Man had discussed in detail with him. He ran his finger over the envelope as he read the words,
In Case of Blackmail
. He took his ornate brass letter opener, slit the envelope open and removed the handwritten pages.

Johnston Thurwell and William had spent many hours trying to anticipate the reactions of twelve people given the opportunity to share a fortune at the expense of others. They knew blackmail was a possibility, among many other things that people driven by greed might do to one another, so they had prepared for the worst even as they hoped the envelopes would not be needed.

Thurwell had spent his last best days stooped over a small desk writing detailed instructions for his lawyer in the event of numerous outcomes. He had forbidden William to open them unless the specific condition on the label was met. Bird knew only the contents of the envelope in his hand now, and one other.

A death would cause any one of three envelopes to be opened. There was one set of instructions for murder, one for suicide and one for natural causes. Other envelopes existed for the nonattendance of one of more of the guests and for refusal to abide by the contract agreed prior to the meeting. Several were dedicated to more bizarre scenarios, and William hoped he’d never have to open those.

William remembered the night he had collected the sealed yellow envelopes. The Old Man would live only thirty more hours and his ability to remain lucid through the painkillers diminished with each hour. Bird had shuddered when he accepted the envelopes. The firelight reflected in the Philanthropist’s eyes made him appear already ethereal. “These instructions will guide you William. If any bastard disrupts the
Danse
, this’ll fix them.”

William felt a sharp stab of sadness at the loss of his friend and client as he read the neat handwriting that detailed his next move.

Bill,

If you’re reading this then one of the leeches has threatened blackmail, or you are a prick who cannot be trusted to obey simple rules. I’ll assume the former, it seems more likely one or other of them will have tried to gain an unfair advantage. Well, this is what you’ll do about it.

Each person, my damned children included, has something they would prefer not be public, something that, if discovered, could be used to blackmail them. On the enclosed pages, I’ve listed the details of their secrets. The secret shames they don’t dare think about.

Your task is simple Bill, though I don’t envy you. Each of them must admit their secret to the whole group. A secret shared loses its power, so we can neutralize the blackmailer.

If the threat was made publicly, then get to it as soon as you’ve finished reading this. If the threat was made privately, make them wait until the next scheduled session before you tell them. If that means they lose some of my money to the penalty, tough luck. The Foundation will be the richer for it.

If anyone cannot or will not share their secret from my list, throw them out with nothing, no matter who they are. I mean it, Bill. I don’t even care if they’re family. No secret, no money.

These are my instructions, now go do your job, God knows I’m paying you enough.

JCT2

He continued on and read the collection of secrets, petty larcenies and major crimes of his guests. When he was finished, he slipped the pages back into the envelope and returned it to the safe. He would not forget his simple instructions, nor would he forget the details of his guest’s transgressions.

Some were shocking and new to him, others he was familiar with. One secret was a great surprise, though he did not see a threat to its holder if it became public. Perhaps there was more to it. Tomorrow, he and everyone else would find out. William shuddered and knew the next morning would not be easy.

$

The lawyer heard a knock at the door. Jeremy brought Caroline Smith to his office. William had forgotten about her appointment, he had been so absorbed in his new instructions. He beckoned Smith in. She said nothing and her mouth was a tight white line, she was still furious. William knew the emotion would not last. “Caroline, thank you for seeing me.” He survived a glare that might have destroyed a lesser man and continued. “I have some news for you.”

She was suddenly interested, her eyes alert. “What news? Am I back in?” She was a shark, and she was focused, he admired her for that. “Circumstances have changed, that’s all I can say for now. You may rejoin the group for the morning session, we start at nine.” Her eyes narrowed, she was excited but suspicious and unable to conceal it. “How do I know I won’t be humiliated again?”

“Simply put, you don’t. But if you want a share in Mr. Thurwell’s fortune, be in the conference room at nine tomorrow.” She stared at the lawyer, uncertain if she could trust him, but agreed to attend. Her heart raced at the implications of what Bird told her. She needed to return to her suite to think. She practically ran from the room and left the door open behind her as she left.

William stood to close the door and saw Larry MacLean in the library with, an antique book in his hand. But his eyes were on the lawyer. He’d seen Smith leave and was curious to know why she had shot a triumphal look his way as she ran from Bird’s office. William said nothing and closed the door, he had to call Freddie.

BOOK: The Philanthropist's Danse
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