LaRochette, dressed in a blue yachting blazer, white shirt, and gray slacks, answered the door. Every gray hair was neatly in its place.
“Good evening, Renny. Come in out of the storm. Did you have any problem finding the house?”
“No problem at all.”
“It’s turned into a nasty night, hasn’t it?”
Renny came into a two-story foyer dimly lit by recessed lighting that reflected upward from fixtures hidden by dark wooden molding halfway up the wall. A huge grandfather clock started striking the hour as he entered.
“What timing. Just on the strike of ten.” LaRochette pointed to the clock. “It’s 175 years old, the case was made by slave craftsmen on one of the family plantations, the works imported from Switzerland.”
“It’s a nice piece,” Renny said.
“Come into the library and have a drink. We can talk in there.”
LaRochette opened a set of pocket doors that slid noiselessly into the wall and led Renny into one of the most incredible rooms he’d ever seen. The library was the realization of every ideal for a sanctuary dedicated to books. A thick oriental rug covered the wooden floor, and bookcases ten feet in height covered three walls with a rolling ladder that allowed access to the top shelves. Opposite the door was a fireplace framed by burgundy leather chairs. Two matching couches faced each other in the center of the room. An antique secretary and writing desk occupied two corners of the room, and a bar filled another. LaRochette turned up the lights so Renny could take it all in.
“You like it?”
“Amazing. It’s what a library should be.”
A figure rose from one of the chairs facing the fireplace. It was Robert Roget, dressed casually in a green golf shirt and tan slacks.
“Good evening, Renny.”
“Oh, hello, Mr. Roget.”
“Call me Robert.”
They shook hands. Roget’s hand was cool and limp.
LaRochette spoke up. “Robert, pour three glasses of the Maison Prunier.”
Roget obviously knew his way around LaRochette’s liquor cabinet.
Renny took a sip of the premium brandy. He would make the drink last as long as possible.
LaRochette and Roget sat on one couch and Renny faced them with his briefcase beside him. LaRochette began, “Before we get to business, I wanted to ask if you have had further contact with Miss Johnston?”
“Yes, I have,” Renny said nervously. “She recently visited me in Charlotte.”
“How is she doing?”
“Fine. I’ve asked her to marry me.”
“Fast work, my boy,” LaRochette said, smiling.
“And I believe she will say yes,” Renny continued. “Once married, we will, for all practical purposes, be joint members of the List.”
“Which means your interest in privacy will be shared by her?” LaRochette said.
“Yes sir, that’s what I thought. I don’t think she has any desire to cause trouble anyway, but our relationship removes any doubt.”
“Sounds good to me,” said LaRochette. “How about you, Robert?”
“Ride on and catch the fox, my boy. Every man needs a good woman—or two,” he said.
“Now to the business at hand,” LaRochette said. “I thought it would be helpful if Robert joined us. Tell us what you learned from your research.”
Renny opened the briefcase and organized his notes and papers on a low table between them. “I told Mr. LaRochette that I am not an expert in offshore banking, but I have been able to pull together a lot of relevant information.” Renny spent the next hour outlining the pros and cons of different options. LaRochette asked a few questions, Roget none.
“Impressive,” LaRochette said when Renny turned over his last sheet. “Our obvious choice is one of two banks—in the Caymans or in the Lesser Antilles. Do you have a preference, Robert?”
“The Caymans are better established, but the Lesser Antilles, more protective. I would lean toward the Caymans because the banks are larger and our money less likely to create a tidal wave.”
“I agree,” LaRochette said with finality. “Renny, please be prepared to make a presentation on the Cayman banks at the meeting tomorrow night.”
“Yes, sir.”
LaRochette rose and stretched his legs. “Can I get you another drink?”
“No thanks, I’ve not finished my first one.”
“All right. Before you go, I have a couple of matters to discuss with you. Robert, please get the List.”
Roget walked over to the secretary, opened the front, and retrieved the familiar black ledger. He handed it to LaRochette, who set it down on the table.
“Renny, your father, as custodian of the List, held a position of honor and respect. My hope is that his son will follow in his footsteps.”
“I’m honored that you think so.” Renny took a drink of his brandy and waited.
LaRochette continued, “Over the years there have been petty intrigues and squabbles among the members of the List, but through every situation we have maintained the integrity of the covenant we signed and sealed by our blood. Division on the List is unthinkable and would not be tolerated.”
Renny hoped the two men could not hear the pounding of his heart.
LaRochette opened the ledger to the last page and pointed at Renny’s signature and the now brownish-red stain beside it. “You have taken your place in the book, and it is my hope that you have taken your place as one of us in your heart and soul, as well. Because you are young and inexperienced, I wanted to caution you against involvement in any controversies that may arise from time to time. They serve no good purpose.”
Renny drained his drink. “Yes, sir,” he said hoarsely.
“Please accept this as fatherly advice,” LaRochette finished with a paternal smile.
“Thank you, sir.” Renny picked up his paperwork and put it back in his briefcase. “I guess I need to be leaving. It’s been a long day.”
LaRochette leaned forward. “Don’t rush out. There was something else I wanted to mention to you.”
Renny sat back down.
“What I’m about to tell you may sound unusual, but hear me out, if you will.” LaRochette lightly touched the cover of the List. “There is a mystical power associated with this book.”
“What do you mean?” Renny asked, remembering Jo’s vague concern about the List.
“I know that sounds strange, but trust me that the power of agreement by a group of people over a 140-year period has an effect beyond what we see and hear.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Do you read the Bible?” LaRochette asked.
Startled, Renny said, “On occasion.”
“There is a story in the book of Genesis about a group of people who decided to build a tower that would reach the heavens.”
“Sure, the Tower of Babel.”
“Right. God saw the latent power of their agreement and confounded their plans by confusing their language. As a result, they abandoned their project and were scattered across the earth.” LaRochette paused, then continued, “We, too, have a power of agreement, formulated for a good purpose. The latent power of that agreement is attached to this book.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Renny’s curiosity was greater than any apprehension.
“Let me explain it this way. Your father was aware of this power.”
Remembering the message on the tape about the other benefits of the List, Renny said, “Yes, he mentioned that in the instructions he left for me.”
“Well, I want to teach you about the power associated with this book and how to use it for your good.”
LaRochette’s words had a soothing quality that gently carried Renny along a wide, smooth path.
“How does this power work for good?”
“It works for your good, then you share that goodness with others.”
That made sense. “Like the use of money,” Renny said. “Those who have money can help those
who have needs.”
“Perfect analogy. Would you like to see what I mean?”
“Why not?” Renny decided he could evaluate the whole matter best by putting it to the test.
“Fine. Put your hand on the List where you signed it. Your left index finger should rest on the spot where you made the mark with your blood.”
Feeling slightly silly, Renny did as he was told. “OK. I don’t feel anything.”
“You shouldn’t. In fact you may not feel anything at all. It’s similar to faith, believing even when you can’t see.” LaRochette waited. Roget looked like he was about to fall asleep. “Visualize someone you care about, someone you love.”
Renny thought a moment. Jo, Mama A, Aunt Margaret, Morris. He settled on Jo. Closing his eyes, he let her image come before his mind’s eye.
“Do you have someone in mind?” LaRochette said.
“Yes.”
“Release the power of the List into your life and from you to them. See it flow like a river.”
Renny strained to see. “I can’t do it. All I see is the person’s face framed in gold.”
“Good. Imagine light illuminating the picture.”
Renny did so, and a tingle ran up his arm. He opened his eyes. “The face disappeared in a blaze of light.”
“That’s good. The person you saw has been touched by the power of the List.”
Roget yawned. “Time for bed.”
“Do you have a room at the inn?” LaRochette asked Renny.
“No. I was in a hurry to get here on time and thought I would check in after we finished.”
“It’s late and the inn may be full tonight. You’re welcome to stay here.”
Renny looked at his watch. It was almost midnight. Time had passed more quickly than he had realized. “If it’s not any trouble.”
“Of course not. You’re more than welcome.”
“Thanks. I’ll get my things from the car.”
“Your room is upstairs.”
Renny didn’t realize how tired he was until his head hit the pillow in the massive, canopied bed fifteen minutes later. He wondered if he should reconsider his promise to Layne. LaRochette seemed the better horse in the race. Just before sleep darkened his mind, he devised a plan to help him decide where to place his bet. If LaRochette is willing to release enough money, then maybe …
The two men met at the bottom of the stairs.
“Was it the girl?”
“Yes, it was the girl.”
“How long?”
“I’m not sure. What he lacks in experience is helped by the strength of their attachment. He has great potential.”
“And tomorrow?”
“We will have to wait and see.”
“Bon soir.”
“Bon soir.”
24
The easiest person to deceive is one’s own self.
BARON LYTTON
Renny awoke to a gray morning sky. He had slept but didn’t feel rested. In the daylight he examined his sleeping quarters, a corner bedroom on the seaward side of the house. A plate-glass window facing the ocean, a large skylight, and two tall windows on the north side of the room provided light for a sitting area with a wicker love seat and side chair. A large bathroom with gold fixtures and marble vanity was opposite the foot of the bed. He felt better after he showered and put on a pair of tennis shorts. He positioned one of the chairs so that it faced the picture window and the ocean beyond. Taking his Bible out of his suitcase, he opened it at random and saw his name, Josiah, in the middle of the page. He began in verse 1 of 1 Kings 13:
By the word of the LORD a man of God came from Judah to Bethel, as Jeroboam was standing by the altar to make an offering. He cried out against the altar by the word of the LORD: “Oh altar, altar! This is what the LORD says: ‘A son named Josiah will be born to the house of David. On you he will sacrifice the priests of the high places who now make offerings here, and human bones will be burned on you.’”
It was a gruesome scene. Slaughter of pagan priests and burning human bones. Both his mother and grandfather said he was named after Josiah in the Bible. Maybe there was another Josiah. He read the commentary at the bottom of the page and noted a reference to 2 Kings 23. As he was turning the pages to find a happier story, LaRochette’s voice echoed in the room.
“Good morning, Renny? Can you hear me?”
Renny looked toward the sound and saw an intercom next to the bedroom door. Closing the Bible, he walked over and pressed the talk button. “Yes sir. Good morning.”
“Are you ready for breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“We have coffee ready, and my cook will have the meal on the table in a couple of minutes. The kitchen is at the bottom of the stairs to the left. We’ll be waiting for you.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right down.”
As he descended the long stairway that swept in a semicircle to the foyer, he wondered if his father had ever visited the house. To reach the kitchen, he passed through a long, formal dining room. LaRochette and Roget were drinking coffee and reading newspapers at a circular table surrounded on three sides by a bay window. Outside, the ocean glittered in the morning sun. A platter of bacon and a bowl of steaming scrambled eggs were on the table, and a middle-aged cook set a plate of fresh biscuits beside them.
From behind the paper, Roget mumbled, “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
“How would you like your coffee, sir?” the cook asked.
“Cream and sugar, please.”
“I asked Marlene to cook a big breakfast this morning,” LaRochette said as Renny sat down.
Renny had not eaten anything since a bagel at his desk the previous afternoon, and at the sight of the food, his appetite returned with a vengeance.
Once everything was on the table, the cook disappeared. Three biscuits, two servings of eggs, and several pieces of bacon later, Renny slowed down and sipped his coffee. LaRochette followed at a more leisurely pace; Roget nibbled a few pieces of dry toast as he read the financial section.
“Wonderful breakfast. Can I thank the cook?”
“She has other duties, but I’ll be sure to tell her,” LaRochette said.
“I was wondering this morning if my father ever stayed here.”
“A few times over the years. Living in Charleston, he drove up and back for our meetings in the same day. He was here a week or so before his heart attack. We played a round of golf, didn’t we, Robert?”
Roget lowered the paper a couple of inches. “Over at Sea Isle, I believe.”
“Yes. I’m glad we had the time together. Who would have thought it would be our last?”
Renny finished the last piece of egg and looked around the kitchen. “Can I ask a question about our business?”
LaRochette smiled. “Of course. The servants are not in this part of the house.”
Renny began, “Your letter mentioned a distribution.”
“Yes.”
“Is that definite?”
“Probably.”
“Uh, do you have an amount in mind?”
Roget folded his paper and put it on the table.
“Your first distribution is an exciting time,” LaRochette said. “I’ll never forget the first time I saw my Swiss account grow by all those zeros.”
“My first was the largest distribution ever,” Roget added, warming to the change in topic.
LaRochette continued, “Renny, I can’t answer your question specifically. The List is a cooperative venture. I don’t set the amount. It’s determined by a vote of the members.”
“Do you have a recommended figure? Your opinion obviously carries a lot of weight.”
“Well, it will be substantial.”
Renny pressed his lips together in frustration.
“Oh, enough cat and mouse, Desmond. Go ahead and give him an idea.”
LaRochette gave Roget a peeved look and stirred his coffee with a silver spoon. “Very well, Renny. One key to the succe
ss of the List has been maintaining a long-term perspective. Currently, the world economy is without question entering a downward cycle. In times like these, the better policy is conservative distribution, and I would recommend something in the $1 million range.”
Unable to hide his disappointment, Renny said, “But why so little if the principal is so large? The total amount distributed would not equal the amount of interest earned in a month.”
“I’ve had the benefit of many years’ experience, and in past distributions during similar economic climates this has been the pattern. Don’t let immediate gratification dominate your thinking.”
Renny couldn’t believe the hypocrisy in what he was hearing. “That’s easy for you to say, Mr. LaRochette. Look at the lifestyle you enjoy here in this house. For all I know, you have eleven others like it, one for each month of the year. I have virtually nothing, except a car, my clothes, and a few dollars in a checking account.”
LaRochette’s face flushed, but the man maintained firm control of his voice. “I understand your feelings. However, what you see here was not built with money distributed from the List. I earned it myself through hard work and fortunate business activities. I don’t mean to boast, but the LaRochette family has not relied upon the money from the List for personal use since the 1880s—over one hundred years. We direct all distributions into worthy causes for those less fortunate.”
The wind out of his sails, Renny said, “I apologize. I had no idea.”
“Apology accepted. Just remember that $1 million is a lot of money.”
Renny glanced at Roget for support, but only received a shrug and negative shake of the head. “Is there anything I could say to change your mind?”
“I always try to keep an open mind, but I’ve given this a lot of thought.”
LaRochette drained his coffee cup, and Renny knew the discussion was over.
“Robert and I are going into Georgetown to meet with a business group that owns a couple of restaurants in the area. Have you eaten at the Portside in Charleston?”
Renny remembered the place: large, upscale, good location, popular with tourists. “Yes, a time or two.”
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