The Philanthropist's Danse

by Wornham, Paul

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  Each guest was ready for the gathering. They had dressed in their best suits or dresses, and each sat or paced in their suite, waiting for an escort to the dining room. For most, the dinner was not a welcome event. Without exception, now the business was concluded, each person wanted to be as far from the mansion as possible.

  William had been unrelenting in his insistence that everyone attend. In some cases, he’d threatened that nonattendance would cause the reversal of the guest’s settlement. Most of his guests did not know the threat was a bluff and quickly acceded to Bird’s demand. Only Freddie had called the bluff. He knew deposits to the Swiss bank were irreversible, but had agreed to attend anyway. His curiosity had gotten the better of him. He had to see what his old friend had in store for them at the finale of this extraordinary gathering.

  William arrived in the dining room with Thurwell’s last letter tucked safely in his pocket. Jeremy expertly fixed the lawyer’s tie and walked him around the room to show him that they were ready. William nodded and gave the major-domo the word to bring his guests down.

  Jeremy disappeared, and William took his prearranged place at the door to welcome each guest. He was not kept waiting for long. Camille Jolivet arrived first. She had tried to cover her injured face with thick make-up, but her right eye was still closed by the swelling. She greeted the lawyer with a grimace for a smile, and he waved her quickly to her seat, where her escort made her comfortable.

  Camille’s sister came next, keeping as much weight off her taped ankle as possible. She looked tired but was elegant in a classic black dress. A line formed behind Bethany and as each person filed in William thanked them for coming and encouraged them to find their place.

  Philip Thurwell was the last to arrive, flanked by two men who stood close and kept a wary eye on the young man. Philip remained true to his word and greeted William politely. He was smart enough in a dark suit and crisp shirt, but he had been unable to resist the small rebellion of not wearing a tie.

  William took his place and stood in front of his seat. He looked the length of the dining table at his guests. He faced Johnston Thurwell’s empty chair and saw that many of the guests had taken note of the vacant place at the head of the table. He picked up a spoon and tapped lightly on the table to get their attention.

  The air was expectant as twelve faces turned to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming tonight. This dinner will be last time we will be together as a group, perhaps it will be the last time some of you will see each other at all.”

  “We can only hope.” Freddie’s ad lib caused a ripple of laughter and William paused to let it fade. The lawyer shot a look at Hagood, who held his hands up and muttered an apology.

  William took a breath and continued. “Our dinner tonight is the last wish of our friend, father and benefactor, Johnston Thurwell. You may have noticed his chair in its usual place, though he is sadly absent from our company.”

  They all looked at the empty chair, and Bird saw Bethany dab a tear from her eye. Tonight would be hard for those closest to the Old Man. He called their attention back with a soft clearing of his throat. “I ask only that you enjoy the meal and company, as a mark of respect for our host. Tomorrow morning you will be furnished with transportation to take you wherever you wish to go.”

  He nodded at Jeremy who in turn gave an imperceptible signal to his staff. Instantly they brought out the first course. A host of waiters unveiled carefully arranged dishes before each person, but instead of looking at their own dish, all eyes were on Jeremy. The major-domo placed a dish at the empty place and lifted the silver cover with a flourish as if the Old Man was sitting there to enjoy it.

  Bethany felt her appetite fade to nothing as she thought of her father. She looked at her plate and felt empty. It was a feeling no amount of nourishment could fill. She put her salad fork down and bit her lip, fighting sudden tears.

  Winnie watched Jeremy take his position at parade ground attention behind the great man’s chair, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Yet she knew he saw everything. She felt a tug at her heart. Winnie had done little over the last lonely days but think about Charlie Wells. She only ever thought of the dead man as Charlie, the Thurwell name meant nothing to her.

  William had explained that she was a wealthy woman, but what did it mean when she was alone? She would probably die alone on her farm. If she was lucky it wouldn’t take many days for someone to find her body, but that was as much as she could hope for. Money meant little to her. She had rejected Charlie decades ago, and her grown children were not close. She looked at the empty chair and wondered how different her life would have been if she had accepted Charlie’s proposal.

  William ate slowly and watched those around him. Junior and Philip seemed unaffected by their father’s empty chair and ate with enthusiasm, but the others hardly touched their plates. It was easy to imagine the great philanthropist sitting there, his trusted man at his back, as he held forth on the issues of the day. But there was no jolly raconteur to lead the festivities, only his shadow.

  Larry pushed his untouched plate back and stood. He picked up a glass of wine and turned to face the head of the table. He raised the glass as the others watched. “I propose a toast to my friend. He was not my friend at the end of his days, but that was my fault. I earned his enmity. Rest in peace, Johnston, I’m sorry.” He drank a deep gulp of his wine. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he sat.

  The scene was too much for Junior. “Oh, please. Spare us the dramatic remorse Larry. You fucked my mother, broke up their marriage, wrecked my childhood and he ruined you for it. He was years too late, but he nailed you for what you did. So screw your remorse. You might as well have taken his money at the point of a gun this morning, the way you hijacked me. I’d puke, except this food is too damned good to waste.”

  MacLean looked at Junior with eyes full of hurt but said nothing. He looked once more at the empty chair and lowered his eyes. Junior snorted and stood. Mimicking Larry’s gesture, he raised his glass and turned to the head of the table. “’Bye Dad, sorry your best friend turned out to be such a fucking loser.”

  Philip laughed. “You tell him, Bro. Mister goddamned high and mighty sure had no idea who his friends were. Jesus, just look around this table, the Old Man was getting screwed by more people than Betty could do in a good night.”

  Freddie growled. “You two shut up and have some respect. It’s bad enough my friend had to tolerate you inadequates for his sons, I don’t have to sit here and listen to you desecrate his memory and attack people who had genuine affection for him. Can it, both of you.” His voice trembled with anger, and he looked at Betty, but she had already shrugged it off.

  William put down his fork and looked at the brothers. He was disappointed in their behavior. “Please, let’s just try and enjoy a civil dinner. There are no votes to be won tonight, no more negotiations. Let’s eat and remember your father and have some respect for his wishes.”

  His appeal fell on deaf ears as Junior shot back. “Sorry, Bill, but fuck my father and his wishes. He screwed me out of my inheritance. What I got was a fucking insult and Phil took nothing. He could have treated us right. He could have been a big man about it, but no, he had to fuck with us. I hated him in life, but we’re family, and that’s what families do, they hate each other. That’s still no goddamn reason to allow servants and losers to steal your fortune. I hate him more now than I did when I sold Freddie all those juicy secrets.”

  Freeman interrupted. His face was impassive, but Jeremy noticed that the big man’s hands shook with rage. “You might remember your brother brought his fate on himself, it’s got little to do with your father.”

  Junior chewed a mouthful of food while he contemplated the Judge’s words. “Shut up, Ron. If my father had not thrown us into this stupid mess, Philip and Bill would have had no falling out. So it is Dad’s fault, see? And don’t pretend you’re not glad Phil got tossed, you’re still pissed he played you for a foo
l and you let him walk from your little hick town.”

  Freeman glowered and made to stand up. Jeremy stood ready, but William placed a hand on Freeman’s arm and stopped him with a whispered word. Philip saw this and laughed. “Look, Bill’s got a tame Judge. That’s right, boy, sit.”

  Freeman’s face darkened dangerously as he fought to control his temper at the racial slur, but William was on his feet. “Okay. That’s enough. Junior, Philip, get a grip and act like civilized people. I know you’re upset, but there is nothing you can do, nothing you can say that will change what has been decided. Start dealing with it. Philip, you need to apologize for your last remark, it was unfit for your father’s table.”

  Philip sneered. “Really? Boy oh boy, I guess I really screwed up. Sorry, Ron.” Bird shook his head and despaired that any pretence of civility had vanished. He whispered something in Freeman’s ear. The Judge nodded, and a thin smile creased his mouth, but his posture relaxed, and so did Jeremy.

  $

  Dennis heard the brothers baiting William and the Judge and shook his head. He had heard Thurwell express disappointment in his sons on many occasions. Dennis saw Jeremy’s position behind the Old Man’s empty chair and felt a pang of jealousy. If the dinner had been at the New York home, it would be Dennis in that honored post. He thought about why he and Jan had been so favored when Thurwell had men like Jeremy, who had not been chosen for a rich reward. He admired the way the major-domo worked. Dennis was even prepared to admit the major-domo’s capabilities exceeded his own.

  The next hour passed in uncomfortable silence as each delicious course arrived. Few plates were more than barely touched. Caroline had tried to start a conversation by asking Betty what she intended to do with her new wealth, but Junior killed it with a flippant comment about a whore being worth the same as a family member.

  William tried his best to maintain a cheerful countenance, but it was difficult when he was concerned with Junior’s sour mood and the effect it had on his brother. Both men were bitter about the outcome of the week, and Philip did not seem at all grateful for being spared criminal charges.

  A few conversations were held where guests were fortunate enough to be seated next to a well-matched partner. Camille and Bethany engaged in a whispered conversation though Bethany kept a wary eye on her brothers. Winnie Tremethick and Janice were chatting. The housekeeper appeared relaxed and to be enjoying herself. William wondered about Betty’s claims of Janice being abused by Junior. He thought it could be true, but he also thought there was no chance she would say anything.

  At length, dessert was served, to the relief of most guests. The morbid routine of serving the host’s seat first no longer surprised them. The act of serving an entire meal to a dead man’s chair had been uncomfortable but served the purpose of reminding them all they had been gathered together by a man who had the ability to influence them from beyond the grave.

  Winnie Tremethick was the slowest eater of the assembled company, and as she placed her spoon on her plate, the dessert dishes were whisked away, and coffee and brandy was served.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  William waited until Jeremy and his staff left the room before he reached into his pocket and withdrew the letter. He walked to Johnston Thurwell’s traditional place at the head of the table. He showed the sealed envelope to the group. “This is a letter from our host. It is a letter he wrote for this occasion at the end of your deliberations. He planned this dinner to the last detail. You ate what he decided you would eat, and you drank the wines he selected for tonight.

  “Tomorrow, you will leave here and continue your lives as you choose. But it is my duty to read this letter to you. Once I conclude this final duty, you are free to do whatever you wish. Your cars will arrive at ten in the morning. Mrs. Tremethick will leave us earlier, as she has a plane to catch.” He nodded at the old lady who forced a smile for those who looked at her. Janice patted her arm with an encouraging smile.

  William made a show of opening the letter with a butter knife. “I received this letter from Mr. Thurwell personally, and it has been locked in my safe waiting for tonight. My instructions are to read it to you once and then destroy it. I cannot answer any questions about its contents, and I ask you to respect Mr. Thurwell’s memory by not interrupting.”

  Philip uttered a loud sigh. “Couldn’t he have just made a video and saved us the drama?”

  He was surprised by Junior’s angry retort. “Shut up little brother. Let’s see what the Old Man has to say.” Philip shrugged and fell quiet, embarrassed.

  William unfolded the pages of the letter and began to read.

  “If my lawyer has arranged everything correctly then I am addressing twelve people who shared an opportunity to enrich themselves from the fruits of a lifetime of my labor. I have no way of knowing who got the most, or who got nothing and frankly as I sit here with tubes coming out of my chest, I don’t care. I have a few words for each of you, words you might not want to hear, but you’re going to anyway, because the advantage of being dead is that I have no concern for your discomfort.

  “To my children, John, Bethany, Philip and Camille, I hope you got what you deserved. I’m quite sure John is upset I didn’t just bequeath my fortune to the family, and he’s right to be upset. In normal circumstances, a man should ensure his sons and daughters are taken care of after he’s gone. Unfortunately, I was not blessed with a deserving family, which is why you might have had to fight like dogs this week to get a single dollar of your inheritance.

  “Let me start with my youngest. Philip, I don’t have enough life left in me to express all the ways you disappointed me, son, but let me tell you that it pains me to know such an indigent loser rose from my loins. My one regret is that I could not tell you this to your face. Once, in my haste to protect what reputation remains in my family name, I involved a good man in a scheme that might have ruined him. Philip, enjoy your life, son, you will never amount to anything. You might as well have fun rather than contemplate what a total waste of time you are.”

  William read as calmly as he could, but the words he read were stinging. Philip’s eyes burned with fury before the weight of his father’s condemnation overtook him, and he lowered his head. The others were keenly aware this was going to be extremely difficult to listen to as William turned a page and continued.

  “Camille, my newly discovered daughter. I did not know you well. I hardly knew your mother. I’m told DNA never lies, so I accepted that you were mine. I consider myself blessed that I found out about you so late in my life, I am not certain how much longer I could have put up with your shit. I don’t know if you’re angrier with your mother or me, but your naked greed shines like a beacon. I’ve seen it too many times before not to recognize gold fever in a woman. Remember the pact we made, my dear, you were included in the family and may share in my wealth, but you are never to take my name as your own. You are unworthy.

  “Bethany, my beautiful daughter and greatest disappointment.”

  William heard a sob and his heart wavered but he dared not pause. He steeled his resolve and plowed on.

  “You were the family jewel for so long my dear. You were my solace that at least one of my children would amount to something. But you broke my heart, Beth. You know what you did, but you don’t know that I found out about it. I will never understand why you did it, but I took it personally and I hope you take my disapproval to your grave. No forgiveness, Beth, not in this lifetime or a hundred more.

  “The hardest thing about dying is that I long for good company. Bill is too depressing to be any comfort. I would have liked you by my side at the end, Beth, but I will die without you beside me because I can’t stand the thought of you lying to me as I fade away. In the end, this will hurt you more than me. Now you know it cost me something to exclude you and I hope it tears you up, so you understand what you did to me.”

  Bethany sobbed as her father’s words destroyed her. She felt something break inside. Camille held her hand
and tried to comfort her, but she was inconsolable. “Monsieur Bird, please. No more, we have heard enough.”

  Bird paused briefly but shook his head and returned to the letter without comment.

  “To Johnston, my eldest son. What can I say? You were a brat as you grew up and never changed in adulthood. It’s ridiculous that a grown man allows others to call him Junior to his face. You’re a dangerous little prick, son. Don’t think I haven’t heard the horror stories about you. You might wonder why you didn’t get a straight inheritance, or you might have figured it out, depending how the Danse played out. I knew about your betrayal of me, I knew the moment you started. My biggest regret is that I continued the family tradition and gave you my name. I can prevent Camille from taking my name, but I willingly bestowed it on you, and that’s an error I take to my grave with bitter regret. Never was a man so unworthy of my name than you, son.”

  “Fuck you too, Dad.” Junior muttered and flipped his middle finger at the ceiling, a childish gesture of defiance that illustrated perfectly the man his father had described.

  William took a breath. The letter was far worse than he had expected. It contained all the pent-up rage Thurwell had for those who had wronged him. He should not have been surprised, the Old Man had been ruthless in his determination to gather these twelve people together to variously reward or punish them. His letter was the coup de grace.

  “Freddie, my friend. Perhaps the nature of our long history has been revealed and perhaps it has not, but I want to publicly acknowledge your friendship. You know what it meant to me, and I hope I was as true to you, as you were to me. If you got some of my money, good for you. It makes me happy to think some of it went to a person that earned it.”

  Freddie bowed his head and whispered a private goodbye to his old friend. He smiled because his friend had ensured he had the final word, even in death.

  Betty Freah looked up as she heard her name and trembled at what she might hear.