“Okay, Phil. There’s no need for trouble. Here, let me show you.” Philip stepped closer as he drew his hand out of his pocket, but instead of the box, William drew out the flashlight. He flipped it on and shone it directly into Philips’s eyes, momentarily blinding him.
Philip roared in anger and swung the oar in a scything motion at the space where Bird’s head had been a second earlier, but the lawyer dropped to a crouch and dodged the blow. He scurried past Philip and saw his path to the exit was clear. Bird dropped the flashlight and ran. He heard a loud crack as the oar crashed into the doorframe, a vicious blow that could have killed him, had it connected.
The panicked lawyer waded through the snow, but it was like trying to run through quicksand. His legs were heavy, and his progress too slow. He felt like he was in a nightmare when he heard a wicked laugh as Philip came after him.
Bird looked around desperately. He was out of view of the main house, and the snow deadened sound so much that crying for help would be futile. He shouted anyway in the hope some brave soul might be outside. He turned and saw Philip close behind him, walking with ease through the deep snow.
“Say goodnight, Bill.” Philip brought the oar over his head and prepared a devastating swing at the lawyer, who crumpled to his knees with a whimper. William covered his head with his hands and realized with horror that he was about to die.
But the blow never landed. Bird heard a grunt and a soft thud. He didn’t dare move or look to see what had happened. He knelt, frozen by fear in the snow, and waited for the lights to go out.
A hand was on his elbow, gently encouraging him to stand. It took a while for him to react. “Come on, sir, it’s all right. Stand up now, we’ll have you back inside the house in no time.” William Bird looked up and was amazed to see Jeremy’s concerned face. The major-domo was dressed in outdoor gear. Behind him, William saw Philip face down in the snow. He was very still, the oar at his side.
“Is… is he dead?”
Jeremy shook his head. “Oh no, sir. Out for the count, yes. Dead, no.”
“How? How did he find me? How did you find me?” Bird was talking too fast as adrenaline pumped through his body.
“Well sir, I don’t know how he knew you were out here, but I’d hazard a guess he saw you leave the house. His room overlooks this pathway. He probably spotted you and decided to follow.”
Bird nodded, he’d been careless. Jeremy continued explaining as he patiently waited for William’s legs to stop shaking enough so they could head back to the mansion. “As for me, I saw Mr. Philip hurry out of the house dressed for the outdoors and curiosity got the better of me, I’m happy to say.”
Bird owed his life to the major-domo, there was no doubt about it. “But, where were you, I didn’t see you when I ran out of there.”
Jeremy helped the lawyer walk slowly back to the house. “I heard voices in the boathouse and hid in the trees in case I was needed. When I saw Mr. Philip decide to put that oar into your skull, I took it away. I’m afraid I hit him harder than I should have, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Bird looked at the unruffled man and shook his head, bemused at how matter of fact Jeremy could be after so much violence. “Thank you, Jeremy. I owe you my life.”
Jeremy waved the thanks aside as they reached the house. “Now you go on up to your room, sir and have a shower to warm up. I’ll send up something hot for you. I had better fetch young Mr. Thurwell before he catches pneumonia.”
Bird could take no more. He nodded dumbly and headed for his room as Jeremy returned to the gathering darkness to fetch Philip’s unconscious body.
Chapter Twenty-Three
At the moment William Bird was wondering whether or not to ask Jeremy for boots before venturing outside, Larry MacLean and Winnie Tremethick took a table together in the dining room. Their mood was solemn. Winnie was tired, and Larry felt like an outcast. She looked at Larry’s sour face and shook her head. “You look as if the whole world is on your shoulders.”
He sighed. “I’m alone. For the first time in my life, I have no family or friends. My brother has disappeared and even though I now understand why he left, I still don’t know where he went. My oldest friend is dead. I’ll always think of him as my friend, despite what I did to him. And what he tried to do to me. ”
Larry needed to get away from the mansion and back to his boat. He needed to find a new distraction with long legs and a deep tan. That would have to wait, however. If he was to have any kind of future, Larry had to take as much money as he could from the destructive vortex he and the others were caught in. His thoughts drifted to happier times when he and Johnston would sit together in easy friendship and chat long nights away with quality wine and cigars.
Winnie’s voice cut through his melancholy. “If you don’t start doing something, you’ll leave empty handed, mark my words.”
He started. “Pardon me? What did you say?” She looked at him askance, and he felt like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Okay, I heard you. What do you mean?”
She raised an eyebrow and waved her finger in his face. “I mean, you need to find yourself some new friends, and soon. Look around you. Everyone’s talking to anyone they think can help them get Charlie’s money. Why are you sitting with me feeling sorry for yourself? If you want to go home empty-handed, stay with me. If you want to save yourself, you had better get on with it.”
Larry looked at her with renewed respect. She was never quite the person he thought she was. He looked around the dining room, and saw the old woman was correct, many people were in the room and all of them were vying for friends or begging and selling favors. Winnie was right. He had to get back in the game.
He saw Freddie and Betty together. He could do worse than start there. Larry’s indiscretion had not directly hurt either of them, and the worst Betty had done to him was to provide a girl in the plot that brought down his brother. He didn’t like that she had participated, but he rationalized that if Betty had not provided the girl, someone else would have.
“What about you, Winnie? How will you manage? Do you want to come with me?” She smiled and shook her head. “I’ll be fine, Larry. You go on and do what you have to.”
He took her advice and walked with more purpose than he felt toward Freddie and Betty.
$
Winnie watched him go and was glad of the opportunity to leave the room. She was tired and needed to rest. The day had been too intense, and her head was filled with memories of Charlie Wells. She quietly slipped out of the dining room and walked to her suite. She closed the door behind her and breathed a long sigh of relief. She loved the quietness of her own space. Winnie was not used to being among so many people. At home, the only time she saw more than a couple of people in one place was at Church on Sundays. Most Sundays there were less people suffering the hard wooden pews than there were in the mansion.
She walked to the couch, slid her shoes off and flexed her old toes, happy to be out of her uncomfortable footwear. Winnie wore Wellington boots six days out of seven and had been in considerable discomfort wearing dress shoes. She closed her eyes, and when sleep came, Charlie Well’s face appeared to her, as handsome and happy as he had been many decades ago.
$
Freddie saw Larry’s approach and whispered a warning to Betty. She had been gossiping about MacLean, and how she had known him before her introduction to the Old Man. Her recollections were not flattering. Betty heeded the warning and turned to flash one of her best smiles at Larry as Freddie greeted him. “You look like hell, Larry. Sit down, won’t you?”
Larry grimaced at Hagood’s rough greeting but accepted the invitation. Freddie wasted no time. “So what can we do for you, Larry?”
Betty was happy for Freddie to take the initiative. They had agreed that adding allies to their group was a smart strategy. Betty had suggested Larry. Freddie had balked at the idea initially, but she had been winning him over slowly, so he was prepared to see how it p
layed out now they were talking.
Freddie looked at MacLean and saw a beaten man, which pleased him. Beaten men were easy to manage and often cheap. “Larry? I assume you’re not just here for our company, as sparkling as that may be.” He smiled at Betty, who gave him a playful slap on the wrist.
“I need a couple of friends in the room with me. I think the family might try to short-change me in the negotiations, and I can’t afford that. I suggest the three of us collaborate in a mutual protection of interests, as it were.” He rushed through his unrehearsed plea and looked at the others with a worried expression. Betty was unreadable. She projected a friendly demeanor, but he had no idea what she was thinking.
Freddie showed interest in what Larry had said, but it was a cool, passing interest. “I see. Your idea has merit, Larry, but you are somewhat toxic as far as the family is concerned, wouldn’t you agree? I don’t know that Betty and I would be well served throwing our lot in with yours.”
Betty appeared to be in complete agreement with Hagood, but Larry missed the sharp look she fired at her partner and the return glance that told her to be patient. MacLean sighed, he couldn’t give up. Freddie and Betty represented his best chance of an alliance that could protect him. “I know, but while the two of you can protect each other now, you might need another vote, to be safe. I can be that vote.”
Freddie pretended to consider the plea. He had already decided to accept MacLean, but he reasoned there was no need to associate his and Betty’s interests with Larry for nothing. “We could get another vote with less baggage attached, Larry. I’m sorry, but I don’t see why we should take you on and risk diminishing our own chances of success.”
Hagood watched MacLean’s shoulders sag under the weight of the rejection and knew he had him at his most vulnerable. “That is unless you can make it worth our while to support you.”
Freddie was forced to suppress a triumphal sneer when he saw Larry making desperate calculations in his mind. “How much? How much will it cost me to get your support?” Larry was trapped, and he knew it, if he walked away, he would risk being isolated and vulnerable. If Freddie and Betty could help secure him a fair share, he’d still be better off. He looked at Hagood and felt a flash of anger amid his desperation. Freddie was taking advantage of his weakness, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Freddie’s eyes became slits as he laid out his demand. “I think half will do, don’t you Betty?”
Betty’s eyes widened, she had not thought Larry could be made to pay for their support. She looked at Freddie with admiration of his skill at exploiting MacLean’s vulnerability. Larry knew he was defeated and agreed to Freddie’s outrageous terms. She laughed inwardly, she might be the whore at the table, but Larry was the one who had been screwed.
MacLean knew he had no choice but to agree to Freddie’s demands. Half of something was better than nothing. He would accept their terms and try to figure out a way to make it work. The three of them shook hands, and Larry left them. He needed to be alone, he was nauseated by the deal he had been forced to accept.
$
Ron Freeman was pleased with himself. Twenty-four hours ago, he had been thrown out of the meeting with no money and faced a ruined career. Now he was the leader of the group and Philip Thurwell, the cause of all his troubles, had been disinherited. He smiled as he reflected on his change in fortune when a soft tap on his shoulder disturbed him.
He turned to find Dennis Elliot hovering behind him. “Sorry to disturb you, Judge, but Jan and I were hoping we might have a chat, in private.” Freeman saw no sign of the manservant’s wife and wondered what was on their minds.
“I guess that would be fine, where is your wife?”
Dennis leaned down and spoke in a near whisper. “She’s in the library, sir. We want to speak with you, but where there are fewer ears, if you know what I mean.” Freeman saw interested looks aimed at the manservant and himself and understood perfectly. “Okay, let’s go.”
The others watched them walk out together, which made Dennis’s attempt to hide their conversation redundant. It was obvious they intended to talk. Dennis led the Judge to a quiet reading nook where his wife waited in an overstuffed wing chair. She smiled when she saw her husband return with Freeman, she had been pleased with Dennis’s solid resolve since she had told her story about Junior.
Dennis seated the Judge, but Janice was in charge of the meeting. “Judge Freeman, thank you for meeting with us.” He offered a smile, despite his reservations about her.
“Dennis and I think it would be to our mutual advantage if we came to an agreement about how to vote in future sessions. I believe Dennis and I will be okay as long as we stick together, but it would be better to have three votes, than two.”
She watched the Judge’s face for any reaction, but detected nothing beyond polite interest. She made to speak again, but Freeman raised a finger to stop her. His easy air of authority made her obey. “Yesterday you both voted to have me thrown out. You do remember that, don’t you, Mrs. Elliot?”
Dennis muttered something, and though Freeman did not catch what he said, he understood the apologetic tone enough to know what had been meant. He continued. “Perhaps you can tell me why I should trust you now, only a day later? Perhaps you could also tell me why I should have anything to do with you after you humiliated me this morning? Need I remind you that you spat in my face? I realize my blackmail was clumsy, but no one else acted so disgracefully.”
Dennis gave Janice a concerned look. He had been worried about this morning’s incident and had warned his wife they might be wasting their time.
She told him not to worry and to stay quiet. Those words would have angered him yesterday, but things were very different between them today. Dennis felt needed again, and he liked the feeling. In turn Janice had softened her attitude toward him, and there was less snapping orders and more actual conversation.
He held his breath as his wife leaned forward and patted the Judge on the knee. “Now Judge, you need to move past this morning. I apologize for what I did to you, unreservedly. I was upset, but that doesn’t excuse my actions. I thought your blackmail cost Dennis and I our futures, I panicked, and overreacted. I am so, so very sorry.”
Dennis held his breath. He had never seen Jan so contrite, and wondered if she meant it or if she was giving the Judge what he needed so he would join them. It worried him that he couldn’t tell. He listened as she continued soothing the Judge.
“As for the votes yesterday, nine people voted against you. Only Freddie Hagood and that Smith woman voted to keep you. You might try again to get their support, but I think you need better friends. Dennis warned me that you might hold our vote against us, but something is different about you today than yesterday and that is why we should work together.”
Freeman was interested, Janice was frank and honest. More than that, he was intrigued to know what she thought was different about him today. But first he needed to heal the rift and acknowledge her apology. “Alright, I accept your apology Mrs. Elliot. I accept some responsibility for how you must have felt this morning. Perhaps I even had it coming. And you are correct about the votes yesterday. You were far from alone in working against me. I will move on and put the unpleasantness behind me. If you can do the same, then I believe we can work together.”
She smiled, and he knew they were agreed. “Now, perhaps you can explain what you think is different about me today?”
Janice breathed a deep sigh of relief that the Judge accepted her apology and was more than happy to move on. “We know a lot more about you, Judge, and you know more about us. Dennis and I helped Mr. Thurwell get to Larry MacLean’s brother. Dennis had been a tremendously loyal servant to Mr. Thurwell and never hesitated when he was asked to help. I had some worries about the nature of the task, but we did it. Our reward for that loyalty is to be included in this meeting. That, Judge, is what the three of us have in common. You helped Mr. Thurwell when you got Philip out of a jam. Your re
ward is to be here too.
“That you had to be forced to help wouldn’t have mattered to Mr. Thurwell, he would remember what you did. In short, the three of us helped Mr. Thurwell, and that puts us in a distinct minority when you look at the crooks in the midst of his family. You see my point, Ron?”
Janice patted Freeman’s knee again as Dennis looked at her in awe. She had put it simply, and even Dennis saw the truth in her words. The Old Man received more support from his employees and a coerced Judge than any of his children. Dennis was proud of Janice for her bright mind and way with words. He watched the Judge, who sat with his hands pressed together in a steeple, his fingertips on his lips as he thought about what Jan had said.
Freeman was impressed. The housekeeper had put together a persuasive argument, better perhaps than some lawyers he had heard from in his courtroom. She had revealed a truth that had not occurred to him before. Freeman had previously only felt anger at the philanthropist for threatening him. Now that he thought about it, he wondered if he too might cross a line to protect a child in trouble.
Thurwell had tried to honor his promise to aid the Judge’s career from beyond the grave by including him in the group that would share his fortune. It was twisted, but true. He and the Elliots had done more to help the dead man than his own flesh and blood. Johnston Thurwell had been surrounded with betrayal. His family betrayed him on many levels, his best friend had ruined his first marriage, and his Foundation’s chief executive was a crook. Freeman saw Janice smile. She had seen a change in his face that told her they agreed.
The Judge considered his response carefully. Dennis held his breath, but Jan seemed calm. Eventually Freeman’s deep baritone filled the silence. “You make a compelling case, Mrs. Elliot. I think, however, we might make more of your idea than you expect.”
He paused and waited for her curiosity to build, Freeman had not lost his trial lawyer’s instinct for a dramatic moment. But he was surprised when Janice interrupted. “You think we should invite the other two into our group, don’t you?”
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