Lethal Justice

by Fern Michaels

  “When Alexis got out of prison, she went to see Nikki to see if anything could be done, as Nikki’s firm does a lot of pro bono work. The best Nikki could do was get Alexis a new identity and a job outside her field. That pretty much brings us up to date. Now, it’s time for Alexis to tell us what she wants us to do by way of punishment for her previous employers.”

  Alexis cleared her throat. “The first thing I want to say is, I had very poor legal representation. While I was in prison, and Myra is right, it is not a nice place, I plotted their deaths every single night. It was the only way I could go to sleep. I imagined slitting their throats, carving out their hearts, watching them drown, setting them on fire. Nothing would satisfy me. I don’t know why I thought killing them would make me feel better. I’m not a murderer but like I said, thinking like that got me through that year. Even now, the best thing I can come up with is that I want them in prison behind bars. I want them to hear the door clang shut and know they can’t get out. I want them to suffer the way I suffered.”

  Myra turned to Charles. “Tell us what you’ve come up with in regard to Alexis’s previous employers.”

  Charles turned on one of the television monitors. “This,” he said using his pointer, “is Arden Gillespie.” A picture of a beautiful woman dressed in designer wear and an elegant hairdo was smiling up at a tall, handsome, distinguished gentleman. “The man at her side is her partner, Roland Sullivan. Mr. Sullivan is married and has a son in college and a daughter who will graduate from high school in the spring. Mrs. Sullivan is a school teacher with a sterling reputation. From the information I was able to gather, she’s a wonderful caring mother and a good wife but she does have her own career.

  “Mr. Sullivan came from humble beginnings. In his rush to get to the top of his game he’s stepped on quite a few people along the way. With no apologies. Miss Gillespie joined his firm three years before Alexis was sent to prison. Eighteen months after being hired, Mr. Sullivan made her a full partner. At the same time, he began an affair with Miss Gillespie that is still going on. Both partners have very expensive tastes. Both like to take expensive vacations. They drive outrageously expensive cars. Miss Gillespie has a passion for diamonds. She has a high-end apartment at the Watergate that is filled with priceless antiques.

  “Mrs. Sullivan is a plain woman, not into frills and jewels. According to my information, she likes to cook and bake, loves her special-needs students, adores her children, and also likes to work in the garden. She prefers family vacations and usually ends up going alone with her two children. At this point in time I think it’s safe to say that Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan have a marriage of convenience. I wasn’t able to find any evidence that Mrs. Sullivan is aware of her husband’s infidelity. She stood at his side during Alexis’s problems with the SEC when they hauled her off in handcuffs for swindling all her wealthy elderly clients. It was Gillespie and Sullivan who raped the dormant accounts, forged buy and sell orders, and covered it all up by framing Alexis. Mrs. Sullivan never offered any comments before, after, and during the trial. She distanced herself as much as she could in regard to the media. “

  “How much money did they dupe their investors out of?” Isabelle asked.

  “Tens and tens of millions. I was able to find properties all over the globe. There’s a beautiful ten room house in Hawaii right on the Pacific ocean. There is a high end chalet in Telluride, Colorado, a working ranch in Wyoming. Mr. Sullivan has a yacht named Rachel, after his daughter, I suppose. Mrs. Sullivan doesn’t like going out on the water but Miss Gillespie loves the water. They go on cruises together quite often. I haven’t located all the properties abroad as yet. Monies have been scattered all over the globe. We pretty much have a lock on a lot of it.

  “According to some sources, Miss Gillespie put pressure on Mr. Sullivan to leave his wife and marry her. It seems he agreed and would actually have followed through but after Alexis went to prison, he backed out. The firm of Sullivan and Gillespie appears to be in a bit of disarray these days. The affair may be waning but I have no actual proof of that. Mr. Sullivan seems to be spending more time at home these days.”

  “If Mr. Sullivan is staying home, where is Miss Gillespie staying?” Nikki asked.

  “At her pricey Watergate apartment. My personal opinion, for whatever it’s worth, is that the two of them are blackmailing each other. All the offshore accounts carry two names so they’re tied to one another,” Charles said.

  Alexis squirmed in her chair. “How are we going to get them?”

  Charles smiled and the women relaxed. “Myra and I have come up with a plan. Myra has an old dear friend who lives from time to time on a large estate in Manassas. Her name is Anna Ryland de Silva.”

  “Not the reclusive Anna Ryland de Silva!” Nikki said.

  “The one and only. She’s in Barcelona right now living in an exquisite villa. Myra and I visited her a few years ago. She’s reclusive, a tad dotty and very opinionated. She never gives interviews and no one has actually seen her in years. She travels—when she travels, which is rare—with an entourage. She stays in contact with only a few people, Judge Easter, Myra, and a gentleman friend named Donald something or other. Donald lives in an assisted living facility that Anna pays for. She’s incredibly wealthy. Her daddy was in railroads and then automobiles. It’s impossible to gauge her late husband’s wealth. Old Spanish aristocracy, that kind of thing. Billions with a capital B,” Charles said.

  “How does all that help us?” Yoko queried.

  “Think, ladies. With a little makeup from Alexis’s Red Bag of Tricks, Myra can pose as Anna Ryland de Silva. If she suddenly calls the firm of Gillespie and Sullivan and says she’s interested in switching brokerage houses, what do you think will happen? I think Miss Gillespie and Mr. Sullivan will pull out all the stops to get such a robust account. They’ll both lie awake nights trying to figure ways to plunder it.”

  “Charles, you are just too clever,” Kathryn squealed. “That’s perfect! We scam the scammers. I love it! Alexis, what do you think?”

  “I…I don’t…I guess I must be stupid. How can this all help me get my revenge?”

  “We’re going to allow them to plunder the account, allow them to forge papers, allow them to do pretty much what they want, and then we’ll…we’ll nail them. Is that the right term, Charles?” Myra asked.

  “More or less. Myra and I are flying to Barcelona at first light to…ah, nail it all down. We’ll be back the day after tomorrow. While we’re gone, you can plot any additional revenge you can think of. Whatever you come up with, we’ll manage to fit it in.”

  “Why don’t you just call her up instead of flying all the way to Spain?” Kathryn asked.

  “Annie doesn’t like to speak on the phone. She’s a little paranoid about things like that. She doesn’t believe in email either. Unless she’s changed her habits, she only looks at her mail every couple of months. Going to Barcelona is our only option if we want to enlist her help,” Myra said.

  “Do any of you see a problem with what I’ve told you so far?” Charles asked.

  The women said they didn’t.

  “Then, ladies, we’re adjourned. We’ll meet up here the day after tomorrow.” In the kitchen, the women declined the offer of drinks and headed out to their cars. Standing in the doorway, Myra reached for Charles’s hand. They both laughed when the girls started ribbing Yoko about Harry Wong.

  “Oh, I hope she manages to find happiness, don’t you, Charles?”

  “With Harry Wong?” Charles teased.

  “Why not? She’s come a long way since joining us. Remember how shy and frightened she was. Now, she’s…she’s her own person. I hope it works out. Oh, Charles, this is such a fantastic idea. I mean going to Barcelona. We have so much to talk to Annie about. I do so hope she agrees.”

  “My dear, I have never yet met the person who can refuse you anything.”

  “Charles, you are just too sweet for your own good.”

  “Sweet, is i
t? Well, old gal, we’re alone. Do you want to see how really sweet I can be?”

  Myra giggled. “I thought you would never ask. Lead the way, my dear.”

  Chapter 3

  Myra walked out of the airport into the warm sunshine. She looked around at the busy passengers who were waiting for friends or relatives to take them to their destination. She reached for Charles’s hand and squeezed it. “I do so love traveling. We should do it more often, but just for a few days at a time.”

  Charles smiled as his eyes scanned the long line of waiting cars hoping to pick out the one that would take them to Anna Ryland’s home. “We don’t travel, Myra, because you get homesick after three days. Ah, there’s our car. Come along, dear.”

  The uniformed driver held up a placard that said “Rutledge” in bright red letters. Charles held up his hand in greeting. A moment later, their sparse luggage was settled in the trunk and they were inching their way into the moving airport traffic. Myra and Charles settled back for the long drive to Anna Ryland de Silva’s mountaintop retreat.

  “I think Barcelona is beautiful but I don’t think I could live here. Annie loves it, though. It’s so hard for me to believe she doesn’t want to live in the United States. I thought…hoped…once Annie stopped grieving she would want to return to her homeland. Nellie and I miss her. This reclusiveness of hers is not healthy. It’s gone on way too long. I’m the living proof. Nellie…Nellie…” Myra threw her hands in the air when she couldn’t finish what she was trying to say.

  “It’s tragic, Myra, that each of you lost your family. It’s almost bizarre. First Anna losing her husband and two children in that boating accident years ago, followed by Barbara’s death, then Nellie’s daughter Jenny killed in that awful accident. Grief is a terrible thing.”

  “I know, Charles, but Anna carried it to the extreme. You know how many times Nellie and I tried to get her to come back to the land of the living. She literally told us to mind our own business. Nellie gave up and simply told Annie she was hopeless and she deserved to wallow in her misery. Maybe this time…I hope she doesn’t kick us out when we show up at her door. Good grief, whatever will we do if that happens?”

  Charles reached for Myra’s hand. “Anna would never do that, Myra. She adores you. I guarantee she will be happy to see you.”

  “Do you think she’ll be happy enough to give up watching the weather channel or whatever they call it over here, to spend some time with us?”

  “Of course she will. When we were here three years ago she entertained us royally. The three of you were like sisters. You and Nellie are all she has left. The people she surrounds herself with here in Spain are employees and servants. You’re the closest thing to family Anna has. I don’t want you to give it another thought.”

  “I’ve always wondered if the people she has around her are taking care of her financial affairs. I’ve been tempted to ask but never did. She used to use some of the same financial people Nellie and I use back in the States. I hope that hasn’t changed. Armand left her a fortune equal only to that of the late Aristotle Onassis. With the fortune her parents left her as well, Annie is probably one of the wealthiest women in the world. I’m going to have a real heart to heart talk with her on this visit. I don’t care if she shows me the door. Someone has to get through to her. Nellie seems to think I can do it.

  “The girls gave me a lot of suggestions. I…ah…might use some of them if things get…sticky. I know how to be forceful, Charles. I know when to back off if I hit a nerve. I should have done it a long time ago. Why didn’t I, Charles?”

  Charles squeezed Myra’s hand. “Because you said you didn’t want to stomp on Anna’s grief. You said it was all she had left. You said you had to respect that grief because you remembered only too well how difficult it was.”

  “It’s been fifteen years. That’s way beyond the time one lives in a shell. Maybe I’m too late. Maybe she won’t be able to…get past that line she’s drawn. What will I do then, Charles?”

  Charles stared out the tinted window at the brilliant scarlet bougainvillaea that seemed to be everywhere. He searched his mind for a response that would satisfy Myra. The best he could come up with was, “I don’t know, dear. I think it’s best if you think positive and hope for the best. For whatever it’s worth, I think, if nothing else, you will pique her interest. If you can do that, I think the rest will fall into place.”

  Myra leaned back and closed her eyes. She didn’t let go of Charles’s hand. From time to time, she squeezed it. She smiled to herself when he returned the slight pressure. Eventually, she slept.

  A long time later, Charles woke Myra with a gentle kiss to her cheek. “We’re almost there, Myra. We’re half way up the mountain.”

  Myra’s eyes snapped open. Her hands started to shake. Charles reached for her hands and held them tightly. “It’s all right, Myra. If things don’t work out, it won’t be the end of the world. We’ll just have to fall back and regroup. If you get uptight, if you’re nervous, Anna will pick up on it. You have to be calm and serene. Later, you can be the feisty Myra that I love and adore.” Myra laughed.

  When the car finally came to a stop, Myra stepped out before the driver could open the door for her. Charles followed her as they stood looking at the refurbished old monastery that was now Anna Ryland de Silva’s home. “It’s so beautiful it takes my breath away. I think I can understand why Annie doesn’t want to leave here. It’s like a magical place with all the flowers, the landscaping, the view of the Mediterranean from all sides. It’s so blue. I don’t think I noticed that before. Well, maybe I did, but I wasn’t in the mood back then that I’m in now. The breeze is heavenly, isn’t it?”

  “It’s wonderful. Very peaceful. Yoko would love all these flowers,” Charles said. “I wonder how long it took to turn this old monastery into this lovely place.”

  “Three long years. Annie lived in one of the outer buildings while the work was going on. In the beginning they brought all the materials up the mountain road and then Annie had the supplies helicoptered in when she saw how long it was taking. There’s a helicopter pad in the back somewhere.”

  “How many people live here?”

  “I have no idea. There are at least a dozen gardeners but I think they go home in the evening. Annie is not a demanding kind of person. I’m sure she has a cook and a housekeeper. I never asked. Is it important, Charles?”

  “It might be. When it’s time to leave, we’ll know everything. Should we announce ourselves?”

  “I’m sure Annie is in the back in one of the open rooms. Let’s just walk around. She’ll find us.” Charles shrugged but he fell into step next to Myra. “Oh, Yoko would dearly love this place. I think all the girls would. Do you like it, Charles?”

  “It’s certainly interesting. I have been here before, dear. Nothing much seems to have changed. Ah, I think I see our hostess.”

  Myra waved as she ran forward. “Annie!”

  “Myra! How nice to see you! You should have told me you were coming.” They hugged, kissed and then hugged again.

  “I would have if you’d answer your phone or read your mail. How are you, Annie? Nellie sends her regards. She said to tell you she’ll come over for a visit later in the year.”

  Anna Ryland de Silva was tall and thin. Her long gray hair was braided and twisted in a coronet around her head, making her seem taller than she was. Round, lightly tinted glasses covered her blue eyes. She wore a long flowing dress and sandals. Myra thought Annie looked like a sixties flower child. Her eyes behind the tinted glasses were still vague and basically unfocused. It was as if one part of her was here but the rest of her was somewhere else.

  So, nothing had changed since her last visit. Myra tried for a cheerful tone. “I’d like to shower and change. And then, Annie, I’d like to take a nice walk if you’re up to it.”

  “But of course, Myra. Run along. You know where your room is. Charles, you look in need of a nap.”

  “How astute of yo
u, Annie. Myra slept on the plane and on the ride up the mountain. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll see you later.” Annie waved both of them off as she made her way back to one of the outdoor rooms where she spent most of her time.

  It was a beautiful room with a Mediterranean flavor. The furniture was dark, the tile and mosaics so interesting one could carry on a conversation for an hour pointing out the intricacies of each tile. Annie no longer noticed the tiles or the works of art on the walls. She settled herself in a chaise with brilliant colored cushions before she turned up the volume on the plasma TV attached to the wall. Sheer organza hanging from the long open windows billowed in the soft mountain breeze. A moment later she was engrossed in the weather conditions of her adopted country, forgetting that she had guests from her homeland.

  Down the hall, Myra stepped out of the shower to see Charles stretched out on the bed sound asleep. She tip-toed around as she dressed and then unpacked both their bags. She brushed out her gray hair, clasped the pearls she was never without, and left the room. She drew a deep breath and then let it out slowly.

  “I’m ready, Annie. For heaven’s sake, are you still watching the weather station? Whatever do you get out of watching it?”

  “Myra! You look wonderful! You must be happy. It shows. Are you ever going to marry that wonderful man?”

  Myra perched on a chaise opposite Annie’s. “Look at me, Annie. I want you to really look at me. I need to talk to you and I want your undivided attention. But to answer your questions, yes, I am happy. I’m glad it shows. And maybe one of these days I will marry Charles.”

  “That’s nice. How is Nellie?”

  Myra decided it was time to take a page out of Kathryn Lucas’s book. “A hell of a lot better than you are, that’s for sure.” She reached over for the remote lying on a marble table next to where Annie was sitting. She looked at it and then stood up and tossed it as far as she could, but not before she turned off the weather channel. Annie looked on in horror. “Watch this, you weather junkie.” In the blink of an eye, Myra picked up the marble table and pitched it at the plasma TV. She clapped her hands when the screen shattered. “No more weather!” she said, clapping her hands.