Maybe growth was intrinsic to the Quaker tradition. But she did not remember hearing it emphasized so personally, especially from one in the midst of quandaries and uncertainties. It was Yates’s example that moved Loni. She had been filled with doubts and questions too. But she could grow and learn. She, too, could be a flowing river of growth.
If Rev. Yates had the courage to make such a difficult decision as to step away from his profession because of his principles, why was she being so wishy-washy about the decision facing her about Macgregor Tulloch’s inheritance?
Any normal person would die for such a fairy tale to drop in their lap. What am I so afraid of?
It was time to make up her mind.
When evening came, she had reached the decision to return to Lerwick first thing in the morning. She would delay no longer.
That evening she made two phone calls. She left a message on Jason MacNaughton’s voice mail, asking him to call her when he got in Monday morning. She would like to see him and the estate accountant tomorrow. The second call was to David, asking if he would accompany her into the city.
40
Lerwick Again
Jason MacNaughton arranged his schedule to meet with Loni at eleven o’clock the following morning.
“Will you be joining us, David?” he asked as he shook hands with his two visitors.
“I would like to speak with you and the accountant myself,” said Loni, “and go over the details about Mr. Tulloch’s estate. I asked David to accompany me in case I need to ask his advice about something. I hope that’s still all right, David,” she said, turning to David.
“Of course. I brought work with me,” he replied. “I’ll be at the Cappuccino Club. Call me if you want me to come up.”
He left them, and MacNaughton led Loni into his office, where the accountant was waiting.
“Miss Ford, may I introduce Mrs. Bemiss, who has acted as Mr. Tulloch’s accountant for years.”
“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Bemiss,” said Loni as she sat down.
“So, Miss Ford,” said the attorney when they were alone, “zero hour approaches. Have you reached a decision?”
“First,” said Loni, “I want to thank you for your consideration in trying to make me comfortable at the Cottage.”
“David saw to most of it,” said MacNaughton.
“I gathered that. Still, I wanted to express my gratitude. I have been very comfortable.”
“I am glad to hear it. I am happy to have been of service.”
“Also, I have been thinking long and hard about your admonition a week ago about duty. Your words did not fall on deaf ears, as you may have thought at the time. I still have no idea what I will do long term. I do not plan to move here and uproot my life. But I realize I have a responsibility to the people of Whales Reef that I cannot take lightly. So, in your words, I am prepared to acknowledge and carry out my duty, as it were.”
“I am delighted to hear it.”
“In terms of the practicalities, however, I have several questions.”
“Of course.”
“Please, do not think me being frivolous, but I must have a direct answer to this question: What will happen if I do not sign the papers, if I simply walk away and go home?”
“I’m sorry, I understood that you—”
“Please, Mr. MacNaughton. I need you to answer me directly.”
“All right. I believe the matter of the inheritance would revert again to the probate court, and they would decide the matter.”
“But you do not know what would be their decision?”
“That’s correct. I’m not sure that is known at this point. Once you were located, investigation into the other parties concerned stopped.”
“But either David or Hardy would inherit in place of me?”
“Presumably yes.”
“With Hardy appearing at present as the leading candidate?”
“That was my reading of the situation.”
“So in a sense, if I walked away, I would have no assurance one way or the other how it would turn out?”
MacNaughton nodded.
“With the former laird’s finances still frozen and the woolen mill still without operating capital?”
“Correct.”
Loni nodded and drew in a thoughtful breath.
“I see. Thank you for the information. That is how I assessed the situation as well. Neither of those uncertainties are ones I am willing to live with. If I could be assured that David would inherit, I might indeed walk away. But since I cannot, I really have no alternative. So, Mr. MacNaughton, I will accept Macgregor Tulloch’s inheritance. I will sign whatever papers are necessary to set in motion what needs to be done.”
“Ah, good—that is brilliant news and will be a relief to many, I’m sure.” The lawyer immediately opened a thick file that lay on his desk, preparing to dive into the paper work.
“I have a second question,” said Loni, “equally important before I actually put my name on the dotted line.”
Somewhat crestfallen, MacNaughton waited.
“I need to get some idea of the tax implications facing the estate,” said Loni, now addressing herself to the accountant. “Mr. MacNaughton told me before that Mr. Tulloch’s holdings were sizable. I still have no inkling what that means. As I look over the property on the island, most of it old and in various stages of disrepair, I cannot imagine the total value to be in excess of a million dollars. There may be liens or mortgages and other debt. I really have no clue what is involved. I need to know exactly what will happen the moment I sign. I want no surprises about taxes. I don’t want to find a noose around my neck where I inherit property worth a million dollars, which comes with indebtedness of six hundred thousand and then find the government coming after me for estate taxes of another six hundred thousand, leaving me having to sell off the whole island and then declare bankruptcy. How would that do the people of the island any good?”
MacNaughton laughed. “You seem to have a fairly clear grasp of certain unfortunate financial realities that do indeed face many children and grandchildren of our time.”
“I am acquainted with cases involving some of our own clients back home. It is a much too frequent occurrence. The government has long and grasping fingers.”
“In your case, fortunately in the process of the probate proceedings, an evaluation of the estate was carried out. So we can have a pretty clear idea where things stand, don’t you think, Mrs. Bemiss?”
The accountant nodded. “I do not think the situation is as dire as you outlined, Miss Ford,” she said, “though there will be sizable estate taxes to consider. I believe the estate will be able to absorb them. Let me just . . . I have some figures here.” She opened one of the files she was holding and scanned several papers. “The current threshold for zero tax is two hundred eighty-five thousand pounds, or something under half a million dollars. Above that, you will be liable for taxes at a rate of forty percent.”
“Wow—that is criminally high!”
“We are a socialist state, Miss Ford. Wealthy capitalists and landowners are the enemy of socialism. The government will take all it can get to eliminate family wealth and distribute it to the lower classes. As you say, long and grasping fingers.”
“Then if my assessment of the island’s value is correct, I would face taxes between one hundred fifty and two hundred thousand dollars. Maybe I need to rethink what I said and let Hardy have it. He can pay the taxes!”
MacNaughton laughed.
“I will not minimize the magnitude of your dilemma. And in one sense, the problem is greater than you may realize.”
“How so?”
The solicitor glanced toward the accountant.
“Macgregor Tulloch’s estate is probably worth closer to six million pounds, or in dollars something like ten million,” said Mrs. Bemiss.
“Ten million!” exclaimed Loni.
“Leaving you facing three and a half to four million dollars in inheri
tance taxes.”
Loni stared back with an expression of stunned disbelief. “Oh my, this is far worse than I imagined!”
“There would be some who would not use the word worse to describe suddenly finding yourself a millionaire.”
“I’ll hardly be a millionaire if I go bankrupt in the process!”
“The good news,” rejoined Mrs. Bemiss, “is that there is virtually no outstanding debt. Additionally, Mr. Tulloch had something in excess of three million pounds in stocks, bonds, and securities. Of course, those holdings are subject to the forty-percent tax as well, but that is included in the valuation. Those assets are liquid and will be sufficient to relieve most of the tax debt.”
MacNaughton said, “In everything he did, the late Mr. Tulloch was an astute manager of his finances. He knew his death would trigger a major tax event. Rather than life insurance, he began investing years ago in safe securities that would, when the time came, cover the tax burden to his heirs. Going back to the years when my father helped him manage his affairs, he was always thinking of David. It would seem that his plan succeeded admirably, though he obviously did not anticipate your being its recipient. The property you would have to sell off to raise the balance needed for taxes would be minimal.”
He glanced at Mrs. Bemiss again.
She nodded and added, “Given the oil leases, it would be easily accomplished.”
Loni’s brain was spinning to take everything in. “I suppose the bottom line is, would the homes and mill on the island be in jeopardy?” she asked.
“Not in the least,” replied Mrs. Bemiss. “You will be left without much cash if you use the liquid assets to pay the taxes. But the bulk of the estate would remain intact except what you chose to sell, which I assume would all be on mainland Shetland. Whales Reef should be unaffected.”
“And if and when I need to return to the States,” said Loni, turning again to MacNaughton, “I assume there would be an easy legal means to put my affairs into your hands, with David acting as my representative so that everything resumed as before—the mill, finances and salaries flowing, income coming in, accounts payable being paid . . . no glitches or problems.”
“Certainly. After you are legally in possession of the estate and assets, you can set up matters any way you please.”
“I see,” said Loni. “One more question. I realize that legalities take time. However, once I sign the papers, how long would it be before the mill’s account can be unfrozen?”
“That is a good question. I will have to look into it. Having worked on several probate situations in the past, I am ninety-five percent confident we will be able to effect that almost immediately. I would say a matter of days at the most.”
“All right,” she said. “I want to talk to David now and lay it out before him. Could we come back in an hour or so?”
MacNaughton nodded. “Why don’t we take an early lunch and meet back here at one?”
41
In the Lobby of the Kvelsdro House
After lunch, with David at her side, Loni, Jason MacNaughton, and Mrs. Bemiss examined every entry in the complex balance sheet of Macgregor Tulloch’s estate, projecting future taxes and every imaginable contingency that could be connected to the estate and its future. By the end of their meeting, confident in the counsel of both professionals that, with the sale of one or two oil leases, she would have more than enough to cover all inheritance taxes, Loni signed the preliminary papers to initiate legalities toward the transfer of Macgregor Tulloch’s assets into her name.
Having already made several calls and received firm assurances, Jason reiterated that arrangements could begin within the week to unfreeze the woolen mill’s bank account. He had that morning personally visited Douglas Creighton at the bank, apprising him of the situation. The two men had, he said, already set things in motion.
Leaving MacNaughton’s office, their next stop was the bank, where Creighton was waiting for them with appropriate documentation ready for Loni’s signatures.
Half an hour later, David Tulloch and Alonnah Ford left the bank and walked to Loni’s rental car.
“You drive,” said Loni, opening the passenger door.
“You have to learn to navigate our roads sometime,” said David.
“Maybe. Just not today. Once we leave the city, most of Shetland’s roads are one lane anyway—left, right . . . there’s no difference.”
“Point taken!” laughed David as he slid in behind the steering wheel.
“There is one stop I need to make,” said Loni while David pulled into traffic. “The Kvelsdro House Hotel. There’s someone I need to see—the Texan I told you about. Seeing him is the last thing I want to do, but I have to make contact and tell him, No deal. Otherwise he will show up on my doorstep again.”
They walked into the lobby five minutes later.
“I’ll write him a brief message and slip it under his door.”
“Do you know what room he’s in?” asked David.
“No.”
“They won’t give you the room number.”
“I didn’t think of that. I really don’t want to see him. I have reasons.”
“Then write your note and I’ll deliver it. What are knights in shining armor for? Besides, how bad can it be?”
“He’s big and intimidating.”
“So is Hardy!” laughed David. “I’m sure he will be more well-behaved than our mutual cousin.”
“I guess I will take you up on it, then.”
They went to the front desk. Loni wrote out a brief message on a sheet of hotel stationery:
Mr. McLeod,
After much thought, I have reached a decision not to sell any portion of Whales Reef. I will have far too much to occupy my attention as the estate is transferred into my name to entertain any major changes at this time. If my plans should change, I will contact you. If you would be so kind as to telephone this number when you return to the States and leave a message with your contact information, I will keep your name and number on file in case my plans change—777-555-1372. Please do not call on me again. Thank you for your interest in Whales Reef.
Sincerely yours,
Alonnah Ford
“Here it is,” she said, folding the paper and handing it to David.
“All right,” replied David, “I’ll have the desk clerk ring him. He’ll either invite me up or come down to the lobby.”
He returned from the desk a minute later.
“Your friend Mr. McLeod is on his way down.”
“Oh no—I’ve got to hide!”
“Make it quick. I happen to know these elevators move quickly.”
Frantically Loni glanced about.
“Step into the restaurant over there,” said David. “I’ll keep him facing the opposite direction. How will I know him?”
Loni smiled. “Believe me, you’ll know.” She ran across the lobby just as the bell sounded announcing the arrival of the elevator.
Behind her she heard the echo of boots across the floor, followed by David’s voice.
“Mr. McLeod, I am David Tulloch.”
“How do, partner!” boomed Jimmy Joe. “Tulloch . . . mighty common name in these parts. You any relation to that old feller who died a year ago on the island called Whale Something?”
“He was a distant cousin.”
“Then I’m right pleased to know you, son!” said Jimmy Joe. “What in the heck can I do for you?”
“I have a letter to deliver to you, Mr. McLeod. It is from the American, Miss Ford.”
He handed Jimmy Joe the folded sheet.
A cloud crossed the Texan’s brow. He seemed to suspect that good news would not be delivered through a third party. He quickly scanned Loni’s message.
“What’s this about?” he demanded, eying David carefully.
“I really could not say, sir.”
“Why didn’t she come see me herself?”
“She did not explain her reasons. She simply gave me this note to
deliver.”
“She’s handing me the brush-off and I don’t like it. No, I don’t like it one dang bit. And you’re telling me you know nothing about it? You mixed up in this in some way?”
David did not reply.
“Just what do you know, son?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. McLeod. I am simply a messenger boy. Whatever your business is with Miss Ford, you will have to take it up with her.”
David turned and began walking toward the exit.
“Hey, wait one dang minute, boy,” Jimmy Joe called after him. “I ain’t done with you. I got questions, and I want some answers.”
David paused and looked behind him, then took several slow steps back toward the large man. He gazed straight up into the Texan’s eyes.
“Mr. McLeod,” he said, “I have told you what I know. I have given you Miss Ford’s letter. Please do not order me around. Do not follow me or badger me further. And I strongly recommend that you do not harass Miss Ford in like manner. Do I make myself clear?”
He turned again and strode across the lobby and through the hotel door, leaving Jimmy Joe staring speechless after him.
From where she was hiding behind a wooden screen, Loni had heard every word. Her eyes widened as she saw David walk out of the hotel, leaving her stranded.
She prayed the big man would not take it into his head to come into the restaurant about now. A moment later she heard his boots moving back across the lobby away from her.
The instant the elevator doors closed, she sprinted for the front door and toward the parking lot. She found David in the driver’s seat, waiting for her.
“Thanks a lot!” she laughed, scrambling in. “What was the big idea leaving me inside with him?”
“Sorry about that,” said David. “I had to figure out how to make an exit while hopefully discouraging him from following.”
“I’m not sure I like your plan. What if he’d seen me?”
“You could have handled him,” laughed David.
“I don’t know about that!”
“It was a calculated risk. I knew you’d follow when the coast was clear. It worked, didn’t it?”
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