Certain Justice

by Dennis Carstens

  Hays, whose first wife had killed herself while driving drunk several years before, was a partner in a mid-size investment firm. In good times and bad, bull and bear markets and even through recessions, the firm made money. The firm’s clients might not have always made money but commissions were always paid in good times and bad.

  Mackenzie had done her due diligence and had a fairly accurate estimate of the man’s net worth. Knowing she had him hooked, for appearances, Mackenzie played the part of the grieving widow for almost a year. Unknown to poor Ken Hayes, she even began scouting out the man who would be husband number three.

  Almost exactly a year after the death of Joseph Bauer, Mackenzie was the new Mrs. Kenneth Hayes. Along with the ring came a six bedroom, seven bath home with both an indoor and outdoor pool on the shores of Lake Michigan.

  Being married to Joe Bauer had been easy. Bauer had little interest in socializing which left Mackenzie with time to do what she wanted. Ken Hayes was another matter entirely. Being a partner in the firm required a constant stream of entertaining well-heeled existing and potential clients. If she wasn’t planning an event in the lakeshore home, they were going to one at someone else’s. And as if that wasn’t boring enough, Ken was heavily involved in the state Democratic Party. Being apolitical Mackenzie could not have been less interested in any of it. She was also finding out Milwaukee and her husband were about as interesting as warm oatmeal. To top it all off, the cherry on the sundae, were the three dull, useless progeny. The oldest, a married daughter Carol, was a year older than Mackenzie, a son, Kenneth Jr., was a few years younger and the youngest was a spoiled party girl, Faye.

  The marriage lasted until at death they did part, not quite eighteen months after the wedding. The Milwaukee police found Ken slumped over the wheel of his Mercedes on the side of the freeway. A quick autopsy revealed a sudden and unexpected heart attack followed by cremation less than forty-eight hours later.

  Of course, a few days after the memorial service, when the Will was read, Mackenzie was shocked (she almost fainted) to find Ken had recently changed the Will. He had left fifty thousand dollars to each of his children and the rest to his loving bride, Mackenzie. In addition, there was a three-million-dollar life insurance policy the firm held on each of its partners. The three million was used to buy out the stunned, grieving young widow from any claim in the firm. The final tally was a little over fifteen million, including the house. Shortly after, Mackenzie, who was still only thirty-six, moved to Chicago.

  Target number three was an old money Chicagoan by the name of Wendell Cartwright. Wendell Cartwright was the great-grandson of a Chicago Robber Baron, Philemon Cartwright. Fortunately for Wendell, Great Granddad had amassed a fortune the old fashioned way; by ruthlessly crushing any potential competition. At the turn of the twentieth century, the old crook was the principal owner of the Chicago Stockyards and almost one-third of the real estate in what would become downtown Chicago.

  When he turned twenty-one, Wendell’s trust fund became available with almost one-hundred million dollars in it. During the next forty plus years, Wendell had managed to reduce it to approximately forty million by the time he met McKenzie. Wendell had a definite weakness for the ladies and the good life.

  Mackenzie would be wife number five. Wendell’s four ex-wives were all living quite well on the alimony payments they received each month. In addition, there were two adult children to support. The first child, a forty-year-old woman from his first marriage named Dorothy, was about to divorce husband number three, a twenty-eight-year-old biker who had introduced her to the joy of methamphetamines.

  Wendell also had a son; a thirty-three-year-old named Phillip by wife number two. Despite an excellent education provided by Daddy, Phillip was all but totally useless as a human being. Bothering with employment had never been high on Phillip’s to do list. Why should it? The example dear old Dad had set for him had done its job. Phillip was following right in Daddy’s footsteps and Dad kept the monthly checks rolling.

  All of them, four ex-wives, two adult progeny and Wendell’s profligate lifestyle were totally dependent upon the trust money. Because of the way the trust was set up, Wendell could not make lump sum payments to everyone and be done with them. Instead, they all would live off of monthly payments until Wendell’s death at which time the trust’s remaining principal would be paid out to the named beneficiaries.

  Within six months of relocating to the north side of Chicago, Wendell Cartwright was wrapped around Mackenzie’s little finger. Wendell was absolutely convinced that the over-sexed Mackenzie was his longed for soulmate. Less than a month after Mackenzie’s thirty-eighth birthday, husband number three was discovered in bed dead from a massive heart attack. A perfunctory autopsy, a quick cremation and a shocked young widow was forty million dollars richer.

  During her brief marriage, Mackenzie had come to know the ex-wives, the two children and the amount each of them were being paid every month. When the Will was read, the exes and the kids discovered that the spigot had been shut off. On the surface, Mackenzie appeared shocked and assured them she would do what she could to take care of them. All the while thinking that bankrupting this gang of leeches was the best part of being married to the old fool.

  Lawsuits were filed by all of them. Because the divorces were set up with no provision for securing the alimony payments, the lawsuits would be eventually dismissed. Wendell’s responsibilities died with him. And to be clear that leaving all of them out of the estate was not an oversight, he made provision in the Will that each were to receive the sum of one hundred dollars.

  The local media had a field day with it. The story had everything the public could want and they ate it up; a young wife, a rich old man, a huge fight over millions of dollars. Unfortunately for Mackenzie, her picture was in the news at least weekly and it was not long before an enterprising reporter tracked her back to Milwaukee. Just about the time the death of her previous husband came to light, the liquidation of the Cartwright estate was finalized. Once that was completed, Mackenzie disappeared to Europe for six months before coming home to St. Paul.

  TWO

  The drive to the cemetery, even with the motorcycle police escorts, took almost thirty minutes. Mackenzie made a mental note to give the two motorcyclists an extra two hundred dollars each because of the rain. It was a cold, wet, miserable day to be on a motorcycle. The long procession snaked its way through the Catholic cemetery in Mendota Heights. The hearse finally stopped near an open area alongside Augusta Lake. Bill Sutherland had purchased a quarter acre plot overlooking the lake expecting the entire family to eventually be buried there.

  A 20 x 20 awning had been set up over the gravesite. A large marble angel resembling the Virgin Mary faced the street in front of the plot. It was set on a concrete base with the name SUTHERLAND prominently displayed.

  The chauffeur parked and quickly hurried around the limo to open the door for his passengers.

  “You okay?” Cooper asked Mackenzie.

  “Yes, Cooper, I’m fine,” she quietly answered through the black veil.

  The chauffeur had a large, black umbrella open and handed it to Cooper. He held it over Mackenzie as she exited the car. She took his arm and he guided her to her seat under the awning.

  The fifty chairs under the shelter quickly filled up and at least another two hundred people stood in the light rain. The Sutherland children sat in the front next to Mackenzie. She had always been kind to them and they to her; each masking the reality that they despised each other.

  Being a Navy veteran, Bill’s coffin was draped with an American flag. The casket was centered over a hole next to Bill’s first wife, Elisabeth, the mother of his children. Beth, as she was known had died four years ago from cancer. Mackenzie had never met her and it was obvious the children all resented Mackenzie marrying their Dad.

  When the priest had finished and the service was completed, one of the pallbearers brought the folded flag and handed it to Mackenzie. H
olding the flag out, she stepped over to the oldest son Bob, and held it out to him.

  “I think your dad would want you to have this,” Mackenzie said.

  Startled by this sudden and unexpected display of empathy, Bob could only mutter his thanks, all the while Mackenzie was thinking, don’t thank me yet, that’s all you’re going to get.

  Three days later, still clothed in stylish black, Mackenzie took a chair in front of Cooper Laine’s desk. She was a half-hour early for the appointed time to read the Will of her most recent dearly departed husband.

  “It’s not necessary for you to be here,” Cooper reiterated for at least the fourth time. He had taken his chair behind the glass-topped desk and was trying to avoid the sight of Mackenzie’s crossed legs.

  “I know, Cooper,” she answered him. “I told you, I want to see their faces.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s not your concern,” Mackenzie icily told him. “Is everything ready?”

  “Yes, including the security guard,” Cooper replied.

  “That won’t be necessary…”

  “I’m taking the precaution anyway. People can get pretty worked up over these things.”

  Barely twenty minutes later Cooper’s secretary buzzed him to let them know the Sutherlands were waiting in the conference room. Cooper thanked her and a minute later he opened the conference room door for Mackenzie and the two of them joined the three people already present.

  The younger ones, Hailey and Adam, were already seated. Bob was pouring himself a glass of water from a carafe on a credenza. Before the door finished closing behind them, a serious looking man in a dark business suit came into the room. Without a word he sat in one of the chairs along the back wall as if to observe.

  Mackenzie smiled slightly at her stepchildren and pleasantly said hello. Cooper took the chair at the head of the table, Mackenzie sat in the one to his immediate right. All three of Bill Sutherland’s children made a point of ignoring their stepmother as Bob took the first chair to Cooper’s left.

  “We may as well get right at it,” Cooper began looking at the three children. “Your father came here and secretly changed his Will three months ago, unknown to his wife, Mackenzie.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Hailey said glaring at Mackenzie.

  Mackenzie leaned forward, her forearms on the table top and her hands folded. She stared right back at Hailey and said, “I knew you wouldn’t believe it but it’s true. I had no knowledge of it.”

  “It’s true,” Cooper continued. “He swore myself and the senior partner who served him to secrecy.”

  “We’re about to get bent over here, aren’t we?” Adam said looking back and forth between Mackenzie and her lawyer.

  “Not by me,” Mackenzie quietly replied.

  “Let’s have it,” Bob said holding up a hand to cut off his younger brother.

  Cooper cleared his throat then said, “First of all, you need to know that there is a ‘no contest’ provision in the Will. What that means is if you contest the Will and lose, you get nothing.

  “Your father left each of you the cash gift of one hundred thousand dollars. The residue of the estate, including the house on Crocus Hill and all of the personal property goes to his wife, Mackenzie.”

  “That’s it? A hundred grand each! This is bullshit…” Adam yelled.

  “Shut up, dummy,” Hailey snapped at Adam. “We still own ten percent of the business. That’s worth at least three or four million.”

  “What you have,” Cooper continued while Mackenzie sat quietly waiting for the hammer to fall, “is twenty thousand shares which was a gift from your father.”

  “Yes, we know,” Bob said. “We each hold ten percent of the common stock.”

  “Yes, except, the gift provision provided for the company to repurchase those shares, whenever it wanted to do so and at its sole discretion for par value at any time. Par value was established as one dollar per share,” Cooper said looking directly at Bob. “Your father never changed this.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Adam yelled. “She can buy the goddamn stock back for a buck a share? That’s bullshit!”

  While Adam said this, his brother and sister stared at Mackenzie who sat with an impassive expression yet thoroughly enjoying the show.

  “My parents worked their ass off for forty years growing a chain of grocery stores into a successful business. Then you come along and steal it. You fucking bitch!” Bob said, his voice rising in anger. “First you murder my father then…”

  “Stop!” Cooper said. “You had better be careful making allegations like that.”

  While he said this, he noticed out of the corner of his eye the man along the wall stand up and step behind Bob. The man stood there, his hands folded in front of himself.

  “Bob, I know you’re upset but your father had a heart attack. There was an autopsy…” Mackenzie started to say.

  “You bitch,” Hailey snarled. “We all know you did it…”

  “And if I find out how, I’ll get you for it,” Bob said as he stood up.

  Cooper held up his left hand to stop the silent security man from interceding. “That sounds like a threat,” Cooper said.

  “A promise,” Bob viciously retorted. Cooper stood and faced Bob Sutherland. In his hand he held three envelopes, one for each of the Sutherland children. In each one was a copy of the Will, the stock gift document and a check in the amount of one hundred twenty thousand dollars. He handed them out and without another word, the three of the Sutherland children, obviously steaming, stomped out of the conference room followed by the security guard who escorted them to the elevator.

  “That went well,” Mackenzie smiled after the room emptied.

  “Did you enjoy it?” Cooper asked as he was picking up the papers he had placed on the table.

  “Not as much as I thought I would, but enough,” she replied. “What about the sale of the company?”

  “You just destroyed that family…”

  “The sale of the company?” Mackenzie repeated.

  “Everything is set. The contract will be sent by messenger to their lawyers this afternoon. The money will be transferred into your account at Ameriprise within forty-eight hours. They’re getting a bargain…”

  “We’ve been through this,” Mackenzie sternly interrupted her lawyer. “Twenty-seven million is plenty. I told you, I didn’t want to drag this out for a year for another five to ten million more. Let me know if you need me for anything else,” she continued as the two of them stood to leave. “Oh, and by the way, I didn’t do anything to that family. Their father did it.” And she thought, they didn’t get anything they did not deserve.