The Heir
Page 17
“You don’t need to worry about it. They’re our friends.”
She didn’t want to worry about it anyway. “We really are almost ready to pull out. It was all such a hurry.”
“If they missed anything, we can get it later. We should go on to the new house.”
“Are all those people still out in the street?”
“Yes. I guess it’ll be a parade. They’ll follow us.”
“I wish they would leave us alone.” But she was proud of me, and that was worth all the troubles. “You’re doing what you have to do. But I hope it won’t always be like this.”
“I guess there’s nothing else happening in the world.” I wanted to get Katie away from the chaos, and I didn’t want our arrival at our new house to be in the center of a media riot. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I’ll tell Eric. He’s in your office.”
Eric. I had an idea.
“The timing is important,” I said. Katie and I were in her car, in the garage. The garage door was open, but no one could see us from the end of the street.
“Do you think they’ll fall for it?” Eric asked. He was standing just outside my window. He was even in the khakis and blue shirt I’d just had on.
“Sure. And if they don’t, it’s not a big deal.”
“How do I pretend I’m you?”
“Act intelligent.”
“Then they’ll know it’s me,” he said.
“Then act stupid.”
“Okay. I can try.”
“Rule Number 91—don’t do anything that I won’t want to see on the news tonight.”
I was having second thoughts, but Eric had already sauntered away. I got out of the car to watch.
He wandered slowly toward the left barricade, and there was an immediate reaction. Car doors opened, cameras stood, all centered on the ersatz Jason, the sheep among the wolves. Now I was really having doubts.
One of the two trucks at the barricade at the other end of the street roared to life and shot away, to come around the block. The other scooted after it. I jumped back into the car.
“Five, four, three,” I said. He would have almost reached the mob. “Two, one, go.”
I didn’t squeal the tires. I just pulled out very quickly, made a speedy turn to the right, toward the weak side of the defensive line, and accelerated. The police knew we were coming and swept the barricade aside for our car.
Then we were clear.
Left at the corner. “Lean with it,” I said to Katie.
“Lean with what?”
“The turns!”
Right after that, then left. No one was behind us.
“You did it!” she said.
That made everything, the danger, the risks, all worth it. I was her hero.
“I would do anything for you,” I said. We were out on the main road.
“Poor Eric.”
“It is a far better thing he does than he has ever done before.” I slowed down to a regular speed. “I hope none of those reporters are blondes.”
“Well, they all are, of course. At least, the women.”
“He might be in their clutches, even as we speak.”
“You told him to get away from them as soon as we were gone.”
“He’s easily distracted. And they know we got away, so he’s all they have. It might even become a hostage situation.”
“Mother can rescue him. He’ll be fine.”
We were fine. We were away from the old house, and that would help. I was feeling new, renewed, maybe hopeful. Life would be different.
The city retreated and we advanced. Everything was going to work. Evil was defeated! The governor was history, and I was free from him and from the whole iniquitous business. I was really appreciating Melvin. He took the blame when he died, and left the riches for me. Now I had the wad, and I hadn’t had to stoop to his level to get it.
It’s nice to have someone else die in your place.
We arrived at the front gate alone and soared through, just the two of us. I pulled up to the front door.
We didn’t even speak. I opened the car door for her, led her by the hand up the steps, and unlocked the front door. And then it was natural to lift her and carry her over the threshold.
And I wouldn’t put her down until she kissed me.
Then we walked through the halls and galleries, exquisitely furnished, cleaned and shining. It was somewhat spare, but what was still lacking the trucks would soon provide. I banished the doubts and disputes from my mind. I would enjoy this completely.
“If I had never met you,” I said, “and I had only seen what you had made of this house, I would still know you were beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she said. “This is what I’ve always wanted.”
From the second-floor landing we had an expansive view of the front grounds. Soon the procession appeared on the horizon—first, a lone white-and-blue figure on a swift two-wheeled steed; then three yellow-and-orange trucks, imperious gliding swans; and in their wake the bevy of white news trucks and cars herded by two black-and-white police cars.
The nobler vehicles entered the grounds and we descended to greet them.
Eric doffed his helmet and grinned. “We made it.”
“Well done,” I answered.
“Francine’s in the police car.”
“We’ll post bail if we have to.” Katie said it before I could. She was energized from our moment together, and she was ready for the next frenzy. The trucks came to a halt, and quickly, many men were following her commands.
My part was done. Eric and I found a place on the third floor where we could sit.
“This is so cool,” he said. We were on a balcony looking down on the fireplace.
“It’s just money,” I said.
“It said in the paper you have a billion dollars.”
“Tell me what else the papers say.”
In surprisingly cogent sentences, Eric caught me up on the outside world. Most of the sixty pages I’d given to Stan Morton were out now, with times and places of meetings, details of which contracts were rigged, the amounts of the bribes.
The governor had spoken no more public words, but it was getting vicious inside his cabinet as everyone tried to shift blame. “Sources high in the administration” were leaking like a spaghetti strainer, and the cabinet secretaries sounded like ten hungry dogs in a room with one meatball. My former employees were given their share of ink, but they weren’t talking.
“They had an article about Henry Malden, the lieutenant governor, since he might end up as governor. It said he doesn’t even show up at the capitol very often.”
I’d have to ask Fred who Mr. Malden was owned by. “What do they say about Angela?”
The public version was that someone had come to her estate Saturday evening. Angela must have been expecting the person, because she apparently answered the door herself. None of the servants saw anything; none of them saw her through the rest of the evening, until she was found Sunday morning.
“That doesn’t sound like Angela,” I said. “She must have wanted to keep her meeting secret.”
The note was a problem. The first reports were that it was a forgery, but it wasn’t. It was in her own handwriting. The wording was strange, though.
“‘I don’t want this to go on,”’ Eric recited. “‘It all has to stop. I’ll do anything to make it stop.”’
“That does sound like Angela.”
“The police think it was part of a note she had written to someone else. The paper was torn.”
The gun was in her right hand, but the shot was through her left temple. The police had other evidence, but they weren’t talking about it.
“Anything about Melvin?”
A lot about his life and how he had made his fortune. Some about his accident, and the possible brake failure. The main evidence was drops of brake fluid in Fred’s driveway.
“That still doesn’t seem right to me,” Eric said. “You’d have
to look real hard, right away.”
“Do they have any clue who killed them?”
No. Sources said the police were clueless.
“And you’re mysterious and reclusive,” Eric said. “Maybe you’re an idealist and you want to clean up the corruption. Or maybe you’re ruthless, and you’re trying some power play, and it’s all politics.” If the reporters could figure out which, I’d be glad to know the answer.
The show below was more interesting to me. If we were leaving most of our old furniture behind, why did we still need three trucks? Not that I wanted to know the answer.
And watching the ants carrying their loads below, I wondered how all that stuff could fit in just three trucks? They came and came, and went and went, and I was as clueless about them as the police were about Angela.
Occasionally I caught a glimpse of Katie, and we often heard her voice echoing off the stone walls and floors. Then she appeared behind us.
“There you are. Come and look.”
We went with her through the bedrooms, the office, the sitting rooms, the living room, the dining room, the kitchen, and on. I didn’t feel like I lived in this house—but it was a wonderful, beautiful place where I’d want to feel at home.
“I’m amazed,” I said. “We only moved in today?”
“Is it still today?” Katie said. “It seems like a month since this morning. There’s still so much unpacking to do. I told the movers to be back tomorrow.”
Eric wandered off in search of a television, to catch up on the latest tidbits, and I led Katie back up to my perch above the fireplace. “I really am amazed,” I said. “It’s the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s what I’m good at.”
“You’re good at so many things.”
That bought me one of her most beautiful smiles. “We’ll be happy here, Jason.”
“Together? I’m still the same person, you know.”
“I think you’ve changed.”
No. “You’re just seeing a different side.”
“It’s your good side. You aren’t so moody all the time.”
“You hardly ever see me.”
She was too blissful to disagree. “That’s because you have so much to do. You’re important now. It makes you feel different.” She leaned against my shoulder. “I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so many good things, and you’re doing them so well. You have purpose.”
“That would be nice.” I’d let the other comments slide.
She laughed.
I had to laugh, too. Maybe I really had changed. “Okay. But just being rich and important isn’t enough.”
“Then nothing is.”
“There must be something.”
“Being together is enough for me.”
It was for me, too.
It was just after six. I was looking through drawers and closets in the bedroom when my cell phone rang, and it was Pamela.
“Reporting in,” she said. “Detective Wilcox of the state police will see you tomorrow at nine in your office. Nathan Kern called. And tonight, you and Fred should be at the downtown Hilton at eleven to meet Clinton Grainger. There’s a bar off the main lobby. If he’s not there by midnight, we should try to reschedule for the weekend.”
“Thanks, Pamela. If there’s anything else, let me know.”
“Yes, sir. Have you been watching the news?”
“No.”
“The four executives you fired yesterday have been charged with lots of crimes.”
“Lots?”
“Lots and lots. They are all in custody for the moment, until they get out on bail.”
“Oh well. I’m not surprised.”
The Gang of Four. I was hungry for Chinese. After I hung up, I looked for Katie.
“Is Rosita planning dinner tonight?” I asked.
“No. I told her not to.”
“Did you even have lunch?”
“Just a sandwich . . . no. I never ate it.”
“Tell her to order a mound of cashew chicken and pork lo mein, and anything else she thinks would go with it. And I’ve got a meeting downtown tonight, late.”
I went to my new office. The movers had done a good job; even my books were in the right order on the shelves. I organized and filed for a while, and then I remembered Nathan. I never had called him, and he would have received the file I’d sent him with no explanation. I finally found him at home.
“Jason? This is Nathan.”
“Pamela said you called,” I said.
“Yes. I realize you’re having a very busy day, and I’m sorry to bother you. But I received the envelope you mailed to me. I looked through it briefly, and I thought I should call.”
“That’s fine. I was going to call you, but I forgot. I didn’t need you to do anything with it. I just wanted to have a copy of the papers in a safe place.”
“Oh, of course. I understand.”
“The FBI has a copy now, and so does the newspaper and everyone else, so you probably don’t need to keep it.”
“I should destroy it, then?”
“Whatever. That would be okay.”
“I will, then. I’ve been following the news since yesterday. Jason, I’m very impressed that you’re doing this.”
Quickly, I booted up the platitude server. “I wanted it all to come out.”
“I said I thought it would be a noble thing.”
“I don’t know. It won’t really hurt me much, and I’ll have a clean conscience. I may not even need the foundation anymore. I won’t have any evil deeds that I need good deeds to balance against.”
He must have known I was joking, but he still took it seriously.
“Well, that would be your decision of course, Jason.”
“I’m not being serious. But I’m looking forward to being rich without being corrupt.”
“That’s not easy to do.”
“I’ll give it a try.” I was really just trying a little banter, but he was the wrong person for light conversation. I should have just answered his question about the envelope and hung up.
“You might consider it first.” It would have helped if the man had a sense of humor. Or maybe he did. Maybe he was joking, too. “Remember, it isn’t the source that makes the wealth good or bad. It’s often the wealth itself that is the issue.”
“Well . . . I will remember that. But this is a fresh start and maybe that will make a difference.”
He knew when to yield. “In any case, I’m sure your actions yesterday and today will produce great benefits.”
“Thank you.”
“And I hope that it can all be settled peacefully. Have you communicated at all with the governor or his staff?”
“I’m meeting with his chief of staff tonight.”
“Mr. Grainger? Oh, really!” He paused—apparently another phone had rung. Then he was back. “Have you spoken with him before?”
“Twice, briefly. You know him?”
“I’ve worked with him on a number of inner-city projects that the governor took a personal interest in. He has the governor’s ear, Jason. If anyone can work things out, he’ll be able to.”
“I’m hoping we can work something out.”
I feared that the joy with which I was anticipating dinner might be diminished slightly by that conversation. But it wasn’t.
Dinner was very nice. I’d seen no sign of Francine—she didn’t drive after dark, so she’d been gone for a while. Eric was still with us.
I complimented Rosita on her excellent dinner as she cleared away the white cardboard and chopsticks, and she said it was an old family recipe. We even looked into the kitchen to see her progress in organizing her new domain.
Two new maids were to report to work tomorrow, and gardeners were already employed. Home, sweet home.
At ten o’clock I gave Katie instructions to get to bed early, and I left for the Hilton. It was a longer drive downtown from this house.
Now I had time to think.
I didn’t believe it anymore, what Nathan had said. Wealth and power don’t corrupt. It’s just that corrupt people often became wealthy and powerful.
I had changed in four weeks. It wasn’t for the worse, though. Maybe I’d said I’d never take the money, but I knew better now. I’d done nothing wrong in getting it, and I wouldn’t have to do anything wrong to keep it. I was going to keep it. I will be rich, I will be powerful. I accept it. Melvin Boyer knew his son, and he’d made the right decision.
Angela? Five days ago I’d been slapping myself about being at fault for her death, but that wasn’t really a reasonable way to look at it. I’d smothered a political attack against myself. I’d had every reason to believe that the suspicion of murder was unfounded. Unfortunately, I’d been wrong. But life goes on. For the rest of us, anyway.
The police were still clueless. They wouldn’t have been able to prevent it even if they had kept the investigation open. I’d made the right decision.
Melvin? I’d had nothing to do with his death; that was all on his own head. With as many enemies as he’d made, it was a wonder he’d lasted as long as he did. Melvin Boyer. Now, there was a paradigm of corruption, a man who was ruthless to begin with. He’d made his fortune because he was cruel and smart and lucky. But a person didn’t have to be that way to be rich. I wouldn’t be. I had him as an example of what to avoid.
Had he always been that way? I didn’t know him back in the beginning. He probably was. It was already showing when he was married to Ann.
I’d know it if I was becoming like him. I know that I’m not the kind of person he was. And I’m at the exit now, and I’ve wasted this whole time. I need to be ready to deal with Clinton Grainger, and Fred will be there, too, and this is no time for stupid arguments. So shut up.
24
I parked on the street. It’s not safe downtown at night, but I would have killed anyone who tried to mug me in that dark half block to the hotel. It was still quarter to eleven. I found the bar and a booth in it and sat in the shadow.
Ten minutes later, as inconspicuous as a blimp, Fred joined me. Once he was settled, though, the gloom swallowed him, and he was just a presence in the dimness.
“Three of Bright’s cabinet secretaries resigned an hour ago,” he murmured. “Transportation, Finance, and Education.”