The Philanthropist's Danse (22 page)

I should have told her, I should never have left her. There is a letter to Winnie in this envelope. I want you to give it to her only if she seems strong enough to read it. I haven’t seen her in forty years and have no idea of her health or state of mind. I hope and pray as I write this, that you think her well enough to give her my letter.

There’s a key with this letter, but that is for you, Bill. In the boathouse is the old chest we used to sit on to change our shoes. You can’t miss it. Under that chest is a loose floorboard and under that, you’ll find a box. The key unlocks that box. You’re to take the contents of the box and give it to Winnie. Do not delegate this task Bill, do it personally.

Then transfer forty million dollars to Winnie and make sure she gets home safe. I have no wish to keep her from the farm. She wouldn’t leave it forty years ago, and I’m certain she misses it now.

Destroy these instructions when you’ve completed them. Do the work as soon as possible and keep her safe. Once the Danse is over, I want her out of the vipers nest as soon as you can make it happen.

JCT2

William turned the paper over, but the reverse was blank. The instructions were straightforward enough, and he already knew he would give the letter to Winnie. There was no doubt in his mind that she was strong enough to read whatever was inside.

He checked his watch, he had told the group their break would be thirty minutes and the time was nearly up. Should he start the session and go to the boathouse later, or did the Old Man mean right now? He had said as soon as possible, so he had some latitude. He decided to collect the box later. He would face a revolt if he delayed progress much longer.

William replaced the key, letter and his instructions in the yellow envelope and locked them back in the safe. He checked over the room, and when he was satisfied everything was secure, headed back to the conference room.

T
he mood among the group was guarded. Their secrets had changed the way the participants looked at each other. Old alliances were irrevocably broken, but no one had yet had time to forge new ones. Tension and suspicion were dominant as people filed back into the room. Bird saw Philip’s seat had been removed. Jeremy had seen to it that an empty chair would not distract them.

He saw Larry finishing a conversation with Winnie Tremethick, the old lady looked happy, and William felt a sharp pang of regret. He should have taken care of her first, to hell with the others. It was too late now, he was committed to the session. He’d take care of her at the dinner break.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, you may continue to determine the division of the Thurwell fortune. At midnight, whether you are in session or not, the money will be reduced a further twenty percent. There are eleven of you remaining and motions must be carried by seventy-five percent. You need nine votes to pass a vote.”

A murmur rumbled around the table. They were all aware the family bloc had fractured. Nine was a large number to reach, and they were nervous about the way forward. “I recommend you elect a Chair, unless you wish to continue with Mr. MacLean as your leader.”

Junior snorted and waved dismissively. “As if that snake will decide what I get to vote on or not, fuck that.”

Caroline made a show of clearing her throat to get attention. “I’m sorry Larry, but I think we need a new Chairman. One who hasn’t made as many enemies as you.” MacLean didn’t argue, though Smith openly sneered. He knew his time as the group’s leader had ended. He simply nodded and accepted his new pariah status.

“We need someone neutral, someone we can still trust.” Everyone looked at Dennis. It was out of the ordinary for him to say anything unless he was spoken to first. Junior glowered, he wanted to tell the manservant to mind his place, but was afraid of him. He rubbed his ribs where Dennis had jabbed him, it still hurt like a son of a bitch.

“Like who, Dennis?” Bethany was willing to listen to the man who saved her from her own brother.

Dennis looked bewildered, he hadn’t expected a follow-up question, but Janice came to his rescue. “What about the Judge? Judge Freeman is about as neutral as we could find and he’s used to being in charge, right, sir?”

Freeman was surprised by Janice’s endorsement, they had only had a brief conversation about his offer to Dennis and she said she needed time to consider it. Apparently she had decided. He was pleased. “I am used to controlling a courtroom, that is true. It would be an honor to be your Chair.”

Freddie interrupted. “Just wait a minute, before we get ahead of ourselves. Judge you were blackmailed into setting a murderer free. Then you blackmailed William to save your own skin and put us all through hell. That raises questions about your integrity.” Betty voiced her support of Freddie, but no one joined them.

Freeman counted three full breaths before responding. It was a trick he learned as a young lawyer to ensure he remained in control of his emotions in front of a jury. Juries liked to know that lawyers were in charge, just as people in general liked to know that those given positions of authority were trustworthy with the power they wielded. “I was forced to make a decision I would have preferred not to have made, that is true.

However, you must recall it was only in the past hour we learned Philip Thurwell committed murder deliberately.”

Freddie conceded the point, but was not yet ready to give his approval. “Okay, fair enough. How do you feel about the Thurwells, Judge? This family may be responsible for the destruction of your career. Can you be fair to them?”

Junior interrupted before the legal man could respond. “Just wait a second, Freddie. We’re not going to make the Judge our Chair on your say so, or based on whatever bullshit he says. There might be someone else who can take the job on.”

Freddie was annoyed by the interruption. “Who, Junior? You? You don’t have the temperament to lead a parade, let alone these negotiations.”

Junior flushed scarlet as Freddie landed a solid blow to his delicate ego. “No, not me. I was thinking of Caroline. She runs the Foundation and is as qualified as the Judge.” Smith sat up and looked pleased to have been picked, if not surprised. It was obvious she and Junior had arranged the attempt to chair the group.

Freddie snorted. “Caroline Smith, the woman who rubber stamps Foundation grants based on how much you can line her pockets? That’s an outstanding recommendation, Junior.”

Smith felt the need to defend herself. “I believe the Judge and I may be seen as equals, if you compare our past indiscretions. I don’t think you should be so quick to dismiss me as a candidate, Freddie.”

Hagood shrugged, he didn’t like Smith and never had. “How about a show of hands, let’s see how others feel about the choice. William?”

Bird agreed and as there were no objections he started the process without pause. “Your nominated candidates are Caroline Smith and Judge Freeman. I’ll call the name. Raise your hand if you support that person for Chair. Those in favor of Caroline Smith?”

Junior and Smith raised their hands, but they were alone.

“That’s two votes for Caroline Smith. Those in favor of Judge Freeman, raise your hands.” Dennis and Janice Elliot raised their hands simultaneously, joined by Larry, Winnie and Betty Freah. Ron Freeman raised his own hand as William counted. “That’s six votes for the Judge. Those in favor of another candidate, raise your hands.”

Freddie raised his hand and looked at the two sisters, who had not voted. Bethany raised her hand and looked at Camille, who raised hers after a quick smile at her sister. William recorded the vote. “Three for another candidate. You have no majority. I recommend you find an alternative candidate for your three votes. When we have a full roster, you can vote again. The person with the lowest count will be eliminated in each round until you reach a super-majority.”

William took charge to steer them toward the next step. “So who will you nominate? Freddie, Bethany and Camille, you voted for an alternate choice. Who?”

Beth looked at Camille, and a look of understanding passed between them. Bethany addressed the others. “I think Freddie should get the job. He turned out to be a true friend to my father, I trust him.” Camille added her agreement.

William turned to Hagood. “Freddie, do you agree? Do you wish to be considered for the Chair?”

Hagood accepted the sister’s nomination with a gallant nod of his head. “Do you need to vote again, or will you accept the results of the last vote, with the three votes for an unnamed candidate being given to Freddie? If you don’t repeat the vote, Caroline will be eliminated and there will be a choice between Freddie and the Judge.”

Junior began to object but caught a look from Smith and fell quiet. She knew they were beaten and did not want Junior’s mouth costing them more goodwill. “I accept the results of the first round, I concede. Proceed with the second vote.”

William was grateful for any unpleasantness Smith had averted. “Thank you Caroline. You now have a choice between Freddie Hagood and Judge Freeman. Nine votes are required for a decision. Those in favor of Freddie, raise your hands now.”

Camille, Bethany and Freddie raised their hands again, but no-one joined them. William counted and announced the result.

“Three votes for Freddie. Those in favor of Judge Freeman, raise your hands.”

Eight hands were raised, the original six plus Junior and Caroline. William sighed. The situation was predictable but tedious. Junior would never support Freddie after his humiliation and Caroline would vote with Junior every time. They had come to an impasse.

“Eight to three, there is no super-majority. Do you need a break to figure this out?”

Freddie coughed looked at the sisters. “Ladies, I appreciate your trust, but I think it is in our best interests to move on. Let’s start this off right with a unanimous vote for the Judge. I think he may be a decent man who was caught in terrible circumstances. He has everyone else’s support. If I change my vote to support the Judge, will you join me?”

Bethany knew they had lost. Eight to three was too large a gap to overcome. What Freddie recommended was an elegant way to proceed. It built a bridge between the two factions instead of increasing tensions. She agreed and was joined by Camille.

William was impressed by Freddie’s offer and acted before any dissent could break out. “Let’s make it formal, those in favor of Judge Freeman for Chair, raise your hands.”

Eleven hands rose in unison and a half-hearted cheer went up from Freddie, which drew a laugh and broke the tension as William announced the result. “It’s a unanimous decision. Judge Freeman, congratulations sir, you have the Chair.” The Judge was surprised by a spontaneous round of applause. He realized every person wanted a quick resolution to the day. They had spent too much time in this room, under too much pressure.

“Thank you. Especially to Mr. Hagood, Miss Bethany and Miss Camille. Thank you all for your trust. I will attempt to wrap up our business as quickly as possible. I suggest we first agree there will be no attempts to remove a person without a share?” He looked at each face with trepidation, but saw no one willing to start a fight on the matter and was pleased. “Good, then I think we stand an excellent chance of finishing before the midnight penalty. I’m sure we all approve of that goal.”

Junior was furious, but dared say nothing in case he further damaged his cause with the group. He needed to get to Bethany and persuade her to work with him to secure a suitable share of their father’s money. He knew Caroline would support him. If he added his sister and she brought along the French girl, he would control a powerful alliance.

Junior could achieve none of this without some private time and for that he needed a break, but not yet. He risked raising the ire of the others if he called for a break just as the Judge was getting settled as Chair. The Judge was talking. Junior listened and adopted an air of relaxed indifference. “There are eleven of us, and we need nine to approve a final decision. I recommend we consider equal shares, it was an idea defeated yesterday, but I submit that what happened yesterday is no longer relevant.”

Junior watched the reaction to the Judge’s speech. Too many people were in agreement that equal shares were a good idea. He had to say something, he would not allow servants share equally in his inheritance. It was inconceivable. “No. No one agreed anything of the sort. I insist the family gets most of the wealth. It seems only proper that our father would want us to be well taken care of.”

He heard a snort from Larry MacLean. “Junior, you still don’t get it, do you? If Johnston had wanted you to get more, he would have bequeathed it to you in a Will, but he didn’t. You and Beth are trying to salvage what you can, like the rest of us. Considering what we all heard earlier, I can’t say I’m surprised. It seems to me his family was the cause of more heartache for Johnston than the rest of us combined.”

“Well, you’d know something about causing father heartache Larry. I don’t think you’re in any position to point fingers.” Junior’s retort was out of his mouth before he had time to think and only Bethany’s interruption saved him from saying more.

“Stop it. Both of you, just stop.” Bethany’s voice trembled. She was angry and could not bear to listen to them bicker for a moment longer. “Most of us could be accused of abusing my father in one way or another. Only a few of the people around this table told secrets that did not reflect badly on them, and of those, even fewer could claim to have been noble.”

She glanced at Dennis, the one man who had acted selflessly to help his employer. He’d broken the law to do it and had even involved his wife. She imagined he had not even considered refusing her father’s request for help. Bethany looked at Freeman. “Judge, can I ask for a show of hands for who might support the family’s claim to the largest share? I don’t mean an official vote, just an indication?”

The Judge glanced at William, who shrugged. “Nothing says you can’t do an informal poll, it’s your call.”

The Judge called the question and Bethany’s heart sank as she saw eight people keep their hands in place, the only raised hands were hers, Camille’s and Junior’s. Freeman sounded conciliatory as he read the show of hands. “I think you have your answer. There is no support for your claim.”

She was prepared to make another suggestion, but her brother interrupted. She recognized the anger in his voice and closed her eyes, dreading what he would say. “You ingrates. You leeches. You took and took from my father, all of you were into him for something, and now you stab us, his family, to get your grubbing, greedy fingers on a few more dollars of his money.” Junior’s face was crimson and his mouth twisted into a vicious expression of hate.

Bethany feared he would go too far and risk getting voted out with nothing if he upset them all too much. She tried to calm him, but he turned on her. “Don’t try and shut me up, sister. I’m speaking for you here, not just me. Sure, we’re not perfect, we have flaws. But damn it, we’re his flesh and blood. We carry his name, and sure as shit we should get most of his money.” He pointed at the others, moving an accusing finger at every person, his rage barely contained. “Not one of you can tell me you’re worth more than me, the son who bears his name. I am worth more than all of you put together, just remember that.” He sat down, and his chest heaved as he struggled for breath through his rage.

“Or what, Junior?” Janice was flushed with fury. She had suffered at Junior’s hands and was not prepared to let him have the last word about his perceived worth. “What are you going to do if you don’t get your way? Cry?”

There was a twitter of laughter from Betty, who was not silenced by the look of pure venom Junior shot her. Janice pressed on. “Come on, big man, what are you going to do if we don’t give you what you want? Tell us, we want to know.” Janice taunted him, and Junior’s face turned to its darkest shade of red. It signaled danger, but she kept baiting him.

“We’re waiting for an answer—”