The Eulalie Park Mysteries Box Set 1

by Fiona Snyckers

  “I’ll look into it if you want me to, but it’s not like there’s been a rash of deaths in the congregation, has there?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I would appreciate your looking into it.”

  Eulalie nodded, and Mark moved away to join his daughters. She decided to leave too. But as she walked towards the road, Jane Egger accosted her.

  “It’s Ms. Park, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, hello Mrs. Egger.”

  “I wanted to apologize for being snappish with you the other day. It’s been a very tense time.”

  “There’s no need. I know this is difficult for all of you.”

  Eulalie felt a hand on her waist moving down towards her buttock. She spun around to retaliate when she saw it was old Josef Egger.

  “Leave Ms. Park alone, Opa,” Jane tutted at him. “We’re going home soon.”

  “Where is Herr Eggerton?” asked the old man. “Will he come back with us?”

  “He’s gone across the road to see a friend of his. He’ll be back in a minute and we’ll all drive home together.”

  Josef wandered back to the tea table for another piece of cake.

  “Who is Herr Eggerton?” Eulalie asked.

  “Oh, that’s just what Opa calls Otto - my son, you know? He wants to be an engineer when he grows up, so Opa always calls him Herr Eggerton. It means Mr. Eggerton. Because he’s the one who will take over the company someday.”

  “Because he’s the only boy?”

  “That’s right. It’s really cute. Opa has been calling him that since the day he was born.”

  Chapter 16

  It was four by the time Eulalie left the Scout Hall, but she texted Mrs. Belfast to ask her to set up an appointment with the Egger lawyer. Mark Egger had given her permission to speak to him from the start, but she hadn’t seen the point - until now.

  By the time she got back to the office, Mrs. Belfast had good news.

  “He can see you when his last consultation of the day ends at five. That will give you just enough time to change.”

  “Change?” Eulalie looked down and saw her velvet skirt sweeping the floor. “Oh, right.” She ran upstairs to put on her normal clothes.

  “Good thing you reminded me,” she said when she came back down. “I forgot what I was wearing.”

  “Now you look more like yourself. I’ll see you when you get back.”

  “No, you won’t. My appointment is at five, which is when you go off duty.”

  “Oh, no. I don’t mind waiting. I’m perfectly happy to…”

  “Not necessary. Your day will be over. Go home.”

  “But I feel bad knowing you are working late after I’ve left.”

  “Mrs. B., I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I will bill Mark Egger for every minute I spend on this investigation and I will bill him plenty. I don’t work for free, and you shouldn’t either. Please promise me you’ll lock up and go home the moment the clock strikes five?”

  Mrs. Belfast promised reluctantly, so Eulalie said goodbye and left the office.

  Anheim & Sons was located in the Dockside neighborhood.

  In recent years, as the area around the docks became increasingly gentrified, many of Queen’s Town’s law firms had relocated there, forming a sort of legal precinct that had become known as the Dockside Inns.

  A short scooter ride took Eulalie to the open-air atrium around which most of the law firms had built their offices. There was a central fountain surrounded by trees and paved pathways with benches dotted along them. It was one of the most pleasant – and expensive – pieces of commercial real estate in the whole of Dockside.

  Anheim & Sons occupied the top floor of the building known as Everett Chambers. Eulalie arrived prepared to wait, but she was shown into the office of Manfred Anheim within minutes of arriving.

  He was very much Eulalie’s idea of the typical head of a law firm. He had a huge corner office filled with antiques and collectable art. He had an expensive suit, greying hair, and a general air of being about to start spouting Latin.

  “It’s good to meet you, Ms. Park.” He shook hands firmly. “I must tell you, I’ve been expecting your call. Mark Egger warned me days ago to expect a visit from you.”

  “I didn’t see how talking to you fitted into my investigation, Mr. Anheim. But I do now, so thank you for giving me some time.”

  “I’ve been authorized by Mr. Egger to tell you anything you want to know, with one important exception. Mr. Egger would prefer me not to talk amounts, if you follow me. Not in actual dollar terms.”

  “That’s fine. I don’t need to know the exact amounts involved. I already have a pretty good idea. What I want to know is how the family finances are organized from one generation to the next.”

  “I can definitely help you with that.”

  A secretary came in and offered them coffee. They accepted an espresso each, and then she left them alone.

  “Would I be right in saying that the Egger family are patriarchal to the bone?”

  “Before I commit myself, can I ask you to clarify what you mean by that?”

  “What I mean is that everything of value in the family passes down through the male line. The women in the family count for nothing, whether they are wives, daughters or granddaughters.”

  “I don’t know about absolutely nothing,” Anheim said cautiously. “Each of the granddaughters has a small sum of money settled on her that she will come into possession of at the age of twenty-one. I say small, but that’s only in comparison to the rest of the estate. The amounts are actually quite generous. Enough to buy a small studio apartment in central Queen’s Town, for example.”

  “And where did that money come from?”

  “In each case, it came from money that their mothers brought into the marriage when they married their fathers.”

  “So, Mark’s three daughters will each get a share of the money that their late mother Mary left when she died?”

  “That’s right. When she married Mark, she was the owner of a small house in Sea View that belonged to her late parents. She sold it when she got married and we invested the money for her. Split three ways, it will provide each of her daughters with a little nest-egg.”

  “While leaving the actual Egger fortune intact and untouched, right?”

  Anheim linked his fingers together on the desk in front of him. “That’s about the size of it, yes.”

  “What about Lily’s three daughters?”

  “They will each come into a similar amount of money when they turn twenty-one. You must remember that their mother was by no means a young woman when she married Joe Egger. She had been living and working on her own for twenty years. She had a flat in downtown Queen’s Town, as well as a small share portfolio.”

  “And Jane Egger’s two daughters?”

  “That’s a little trickier. You see, Jane didn’t come into the marriage with any significant assets. She had just spent her life savings on a Physics degree at Yale. She enrolled as a mature student. She has a small amount of money, but it isn’t enough. So, what we did was we took money from the estates of Mary and Lily Egger and used it to flesh out the portions that would be received by Jane’s two daughters. The net effect is that all eight granddaughters will receive an equal amount of money on turning twenty-one.”

  Eulalie couldn’t get her head around this. “I’m sorry, but isn’t that theft? You can’t rob Peter to pay Paul like that, can you?”

  “Under the terms of the marriage contracts, it’s perfectly legal. When the three women entered into marriage, they signed their money away into a trust to be held for the benefit of the Egger children. The female Egger children, I should say.”

  “Okay, let’s say that as the wife of an Egger man, you never have any children. Would your money – your own personal savings – go to create dowries for your sisters-in-law’s daughters?”

  “Would you call them dowries?” said the lawyer. “I suppose that is what the
y are. Yes, your assessment of the situation is correct.”

  “But that’s astonishing. Why would they agree to that? Why would anyone agree to that?”

  “They were in love, I suppose.”

  “I know love is supposed to be blind, but that’s ridiculous. What happens if they get divorced?”

  “They would get out the same amount of money that they brought into the marriage, corrected for inflation. And in that case, the father would use his own personal fortune to contribute to the daughters’ dowry fund. The prenup is iron-clad. The terms of it were explained to them in front of a magistrate who certified that they were of sound mind. The prenups were witnessed by multiple people and lodged with a blue-chip estate planner. Once you’ve signed an Egger prenup, you’re not getting out of it. Not ever. All four women knew that.”

  “Four?” said Eulalie. “Oh, right. Mary and then Emma. As a matter of interest, did Josef’s late wife Mary sign something like that too?”

  “No, not at all. They were married years ago in Switzerland. They had a community of property arrangement. When the old lady passed on, Josef Egger inherited her entire estate. No, this system was put into place when the three brothers became old enough to be thinking of marriage. They and their father were very keen to protect the company from claims against it by disgruntled ex-wives.”

  “And from their own daughters, apparently.”

  Anheim just smiled. “Everything is set up the way the family wants it.”

  “All the estate planning is aimed towards one goal – to keep the Egger money intact to be passed down the male line.”

  “I will neither agree nor disagree with you, Ms. Park. I merely take note of your statement.”

  “Understood. What happened when Mark fathered daughter after daughter after daughter? Did he ever try to challenge the terms of the trust? Was there ever talk about drawing up a new trust?”

  “Not at all. Not once. All that happened was that Richard and Joe came under pressure to get married. Mark was the first to marry and have children. When all those children turned out to be girls, the onus was on Joe and Richard to come up with a legitimate male heir.”

  “Legitimate male heir.” Eulalie said it slowly. It sounded medieval.

  “When Richard produced a boy on his first try, all the pressure was off. Everyone was delighted. The Eggerton inheritance was safe.”

  Eulalie could imagine two people who were less than delighted. It was hard to imagine Mary and Lily being thrilled that their sister-in-law Jane was suddenly the queen bee of the family – the mother of the only boy and the new heir-apparent.

  “What about the mother of the male child?” she asked. “Did her status change in any way? Did she get, like, a performance bonus or something?”

  Mr. Anheim’s face twitched. For a moment he seemed to be on the brink of smiling. Then he controlled it. “Obviously, it affected her status in the family. Her safe delivery was hailed with relief. And Otto is very much the blue-eyed boy. But if she were to divorce Richard, her settlement would stay the same. She’d get out what she brought into the marriage and not a penny more.”

  “And further down the line? If she were to be widowed, for instance.”

  “In that case, yes, her status would be affected. When the Egger wives are widowed, they will receive a monthly stipend from the company for the rest of their natural lives. But of course, as the sole head of that company, Otto would have the discretion to support his mother in any style he saw fit.”

  Eulalie knew they were approaching the nub of the matter now. She appreciated Anheim’s honesty, and hoped he wouldn’t shy away from this last hurdle.

  “You are aware that Emma Egger was pregnant at the time of her death?” she asked.

  “I am, yes. It was a double blow for poor Mr. Mark when she was killed. His wife and baby wiped out at a single stroke.”

  “You might also be aware that Emma was utterly convinced the baby was a boy. She’d had only male children up to then and believed that this one would follow suit.”

  Manfred Anheim inclined his silvery head. “I am aware of that, yes.”

  “How did that change the family dynamic? One moment there is one big pie that will go to Otto, and the next there’s a possibility that the pie will have to be divided in half. And this is a very juicy pie we are talking about. I know you are not authorized to talk numbers, but I happen to know there are many, many millions of dollars at stake here.”

  “You are wrong, Ms. Park. I know that what you say seems to make sense superficially, but that’s because you don’t understand the Egger way. They wouldn’t see it as a pie that has to be split two ways. The whole point is never to split the pie. Not ever. The pie stays whole at all times. That’s the entire point of all the intricate estate planning we have ever done for this family. It doesn’t matter how many or how few males there are in the family. The pie stays whole and continues to exist for the benefit of all – even of the women, although you may not agree with me about that. Another boy would not upset the apple cart. It would just mean that young Otto would have help in administering the company. There would have been no drama whatsoever.”

  While it might be true that the Egger men felt this way, Eulalie wondered about the Egger women. How would Jane have felt knowing that her son’s inheritance might be challenged by another pretender to the throne? And what about her own status as the mother of the future heir? How would she have reacted to Emma’s gloating about possibly carrying a boy?

  Eulalie went to Angel’s Place for dinner. It had been a long day and she was tired. She wanted a break from being an adult for one evening. She didn’t even want to decide what to have for dinner, never mind make it herself. She wanted to be coddled and served and looked after. Then she wanted to be sent home to bed. A side benefit was the opportunity to discuss the case with Angel.

  It was just a bonus to find her best friend already sitting at the polished wooden bar counter.

  “Fleur! Are you having dinner here?”

  The tall redhead turned to smile at her. “I’m not sure. I just came in to unwind over a drink before going home, but I’m very persuadable.”

  “Excellent. We can eat together. I warn you it will probably be something healthy with all the food groups represented. Don’t try ordering off the menu because it won’t work.”

  “Fleur can order whatever she likes.” Gigi reached between them to mop up a spill and to clear away a wrapper. “The rules only apply to you, Eulalie. You know that.”

  “If I have to suffer, Fleur does too. Tell Angel that Fleur will have whatever I’m having. And I’ll take a glass of the house white in the meantime.”

  “Coming right up.” Gigi drifted away towards the kitchens.

  “You’re looking harassed,” said Eulalie. “I can always tell by the little crease you get right there.” She tapped her friend between the eyebrows.

  Fleur took a sip of her wine and heaved a sigh. “None of the designs I’ve been looking at for my organic sugar products are right. Not for the really high-end market I want to pitch them to. They’re fine for the local B&Bs and guesthouses, but not for the five-star chain hotels. The Four Seasons won’t be interested in a logo that looks as though it was designed by someone with a four-week Photoshop course behind them.”

  “Maybe you should go off-island to find a designer.”

  “I was hoping to keep my overheads down, but it might come to that.”

  “The other thing you can do is check out which brands the premium hotels are already using in their rooms and giftshops and see what the packaging and design look like. Then you can use them as inspiration.”

  Fleur wrote herself a note on her phone, nodding all the while. “I’m going to try that, thanks. How has your day been?” She put her phone down.

  “Weird. I attended a memorial service at the oddest church I have ever been to. I thought they were Christians, but they totally are not. They worship someone they call the Blessed Redeeming Sa
vior who is not Jesus but resembles Him slightly. Then they’ve got a thing called the Blessed Book which has copy-pasted bits from the Bible. Their main function seems to be to make as much money as they can for their Pastor.”

  “I think I’ve seen their posters up at the Scout Hall. They call themselves BRS, don’t they?”

  “That’s the one. I need to find out more about the Pastor before I decide how high to put her and her sidekick Lily on my suspect list.”

  Angel emerged from the kitchen to bring their food. She put the plates down and gave them each a double-cheek-kiss in greeting.

  “Fleur, chérie. It is so good to see you. You are a little tired this evening, but beautiful as ever. That hair. That coloring! And exquisite taste as always.”

  Fleur beamed, basking in Angel’s approval.

  Eulalie knew that she missed her family in South Africa sometimes, even though she had crossed an ocean to get away from them. Eulalie and Angel were a form of substitute family for her.

  “What were you saying about the Scout Hall just before I arrived, mes enfants?”

  Eulalie told her.

  “Do you know anything about this Pastor Ellie, Grandmère?”

  “Only that she makes a virtue out of looking as plain and unattractive as she possibly can. And worse, she influences other women to look like that too. You see them traipsing around town like a troop of sick cows. Those dreadful, shapeless togas. The home-made haircuts. Not even a scrap of makeup. I feel depressed just looking at them. It is as though they blot out the sun from the sky.”

  Eulalie and Fleur ate dinner while she talked. It was grilled salmon on a bed of crushed new potatoes with fresh leeks and asparagus. The sauce was a dill-infused hollandaise. After that all-day breakfast at Mo’s, Eulalie was grateful for some real food. She ate her vegetables without a murmur.

  “I need to look into the personal finances of Pastor Ellie, as well as the church’s finances. I need to see where all those donations are going. But even if their transactions are not squeaky clean – and frankly I don’t see how they can be – that doesn’t make them murderers.”