by B R Snow
“What’s the point? The last thing I want is a bunch of well-wishers hovering over me and watching me disintegrate before their eyes.”
“Still, you should have said something,” Gerald said.
“Well, now you know,” he said, picking up his fork and getting back to work on his salad.
“Your ex-wife also said that you told her to get ready for a major surprise,” I said.
“Yes, I did,” he said, perking up. “And it’s going to be a wonderful surprise.” Then his eyes narrowed, and he glared at me. “Unless you’ve got it figured out and plan on ruining it.”
“I don’t want to ruin anything,” I said softly. “But I do think I’ve got most of it figured out.”
“I see. And how many people have you shared it with?” he said, now on the defensive.
“Just Gerald and my mom. And I think Gerald has told one person. Isn’t that right, Gerald?”
Gerald nodded and fiddled with the unlit cigar he was holding.
“You told Oliver, didn’t you?” John Smith said.
“Yes,” Gerald said softly.
“Oh, that’s not good,” John Smith said. “I was planning on telling him at my last doctor’s appointment, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
“He’s not very happy,” Gerald said.
“I’m sure he isn’t,” John Smith said. “I’m about to cost him several million dollars. You invited him to dinner, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” my mother said. “He’s coming over as soon as he finishes up at the hospital.”
John Smith grunted and shook his head. Then he rubbed his head with both hands.
“Double-crossing Dr. Couch probably wasn’t the nicest thing you could have done to someone who helped you get your daughter out of the hospital,” I said, toying with the food on my plate.
“The decision was made long before the situation with my daughter occurred. They’re not directly related.”
“She never should have been released from the hospital that quickly. She almost died on that beach.”
“She was very well cared for,” he said. “Oliver made sure of that.”
“And Sylvia,” I whispered, then peeked up from my plate to gauge his reaction.
Shock was the closest term I could come up with.
“Your reputation is well-deserved.”
“Thank you,” I said. “And I can say for a fact that Matkazeme is doing fine.”
“You’ve seen her?” he said, stunned. “How did you figure out where she was?”
“That one was driving me crazy,” I said, shaking my head. “But as soon as I came up with the idea that Sylvia used to be your housekeeper, it made perfect sense. And now that Matkazeme is gone, I’m glad that Sylvia will be able to get back to her normal life.”
“What are you talking about? My daughter has left Sylvia’s house?”
“She has,” I said, nodding.
“And you know this how?”
“Because she’s in the kitchen,” I said, casually gesturing toward the house.
Moments later, Matkazeme came out of the house with Detective Renfro walking by her side, and Earl cradled in her arms. She slowly approached the table, sat down next to my mother, and glanced nervously around the table. Eventually, her eyes landed on her father and stayed there.
“Hi, Dad,” she whispered.
“What on earth happened to your face?” he said, gently reaching out to examine her bruises.
She flinched and sat back out of reach. She made room for the King Charles on her lap and took a gulp of water.
“Your hired thug, Gavin, did it,” she said. “As punishment for trying to get away and making him look bad in the process.”
“Then he’s a very lucky man he’s dead.”
Josie frowned and glanced up from her plate. She raised a finger and was about to speak when she caught my head shake.
“Let it go,” I whispered across the table.
She shrugged and went back to work on her dinner.
“I hope you know I had nothing to do with that, Zemmy,” John Smith said, still mesmerized by the bruises on his daughter’s face.
“I know,” she said, stroking the dog’s head. “You were just responsible for my abduction, right?”
“Just to keep you out of the way until this deal was done,” he said, his eyes pleading with her.
“What is it this time, dad? A thousand condos with a golf course and views overlooking the parking lot? Or maybe some more of those monstrosities designed for a family of twenty instead of the two people that usually end up living in them?”
“No, this is a very different deal,” he said, with a sad shake of his head. “And I was hoping you wouldn’t hear about it until after I was gone.”
“Gone?” she said, frowning. “Where are you going next, Dad? I hear there are some prime locations in Central America ripe for the taking.”
“Matkazeme,” I whispered with a soft shake of my head. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” she said, scowling at me.
I stared at John Smith who eventually took his cue.
“I’m sick, Zemmy,” he said. “Really sick.”
Matkazeme’s eyes grew wide, then she began tearing up. She placed a hand on her father’s arm, and he gently patted her hand.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she said.
“Because there’s nothing anybody can do,” he said, exhaling loudly. “But I was going to tell you soon.”
“Does Mom know?”
“She does. I told her a couple of weeks ago.”
“And you thought that instead of telling your own daughter, kidnapping me would be the perfect parting gift?”
“As soon as I read that article, I knew you were around. And I have to admit that I panicked when I realized it. I had to get you out of the way in a safe place. Sylvia was the perfect choice. I’m about to surprise several people, and some of them are going to be very upset with me. I couldn’t take the chance that they might try to get back at me by harming you.”
“What on earth could you be doing that is going to upset that bunch of crooks? No offense, sir,” Matkazeme said, giving the Finance Minister a quick glance. “You’ve probably made all of them a gazillion dollars by now.”
John Smith fell silent, then he looked across the table at me. Our eyes locked, and a big grin slowly formed on his face. He sat back in his chair, chuffed.
“Okay, you’re on, Suzy,” he said, beaming at me. “You think you’ve got it all figured out, dazzle me with your brilliance.”
“Geez, John,” Josie said, shaking her head. “Don’t encourage her.”
Everyone at the table laughed, with the exception of Matkazeme who continued to stare blankly at her father. More than happy to accept his challenge, I sat back in my chair and organized my thoughts.
“I think it’s all wrapped up in your desire to make amends, John,” I said, starting slowly. “With your daughter and your ex-wife. Both of them have considered you…well, for lack of a better term, a parasite laying waste to everything that crosses your path.”
“Really? Parasite?” Josie said, shaking her head. “Geez, Suzy, don’t sugarcoat it. Why don’t you tell us what you really think?”
“And the only thing I can come up with that might possibly change the way they feel about you and what you do for a living is for you to do something neither one of them would believe you’re capable of.”
“I can’t wait to hear this,” John Smith said.
“Me either,” Matkazeme said, leaning forward in her chair.
Earl grumbled his displeasure when his available real estate got cut in half, and she picked the dog up and gently handed him to my mother. Earl stretched out on my mother’s lap but kept a close eye on what was going on at the table.
“Along with making amends, I think you’re also dealing with some questions about what sort of legacy you’ll be leaving behind. All that money is nice, but just having your name on a bunch o
f condo complexes probably isn’t all that appealing.” I paused to take a sip of water. “How am I doing so far?”
“Keep going,” John Smith said.
“So, to make amends with your ex-wife and daughter, both committed conservationists, and to leave a lasting mark on society, I’m pretty sure that your plan is to hand over a whole bunch of land to the government with the proviso that it be set aside as protected. I’m guessing your new foundation is going to focus on the preservation of marine life.”
“My new foundation?” John Smith said. “How on earth do you know about that?”
“I’ve been keeping an eye on new records coming into the General Registry,” Gerald said. “That one came through a couple of days ago.”
“Well, technically it’s registered as a Jansmid entity, but we all know that’s you,” I said, slowly chewing a bite of chicken.
John Smith flinched again, seemed confused momentarily, then shook it off and gestured for me to continue.
“And your use of Jansmid was what made it so hard to figure out what the heck was going on. And it also made Matkazeme’s article very hard to follow.”
“Yes, it did,” he said, smiling.
“You’ve been buying up a ton of land,” I said.
“I’m always buying land,” he said, shrugging.
“You’ve been telling your investors that you’re working on a major development deal, haven’t you?”
“It is a major development deal,” he said. “It’s just not the sort that investor group is used to seeing. But there will be some buildings and infrastructure that need to be built.”
“You’re setting up some sort of marine research facility down here, aren’t you, John?” I said, smiling across the table at him.
“Yes, I am. I am thoroughly impressed, Suzy.” He grinned at me, then turned and beamed at his daughter. “The Cayman Mother Earth Institute. Dedicated to the study and preservation of the natural habitat here and around the Caribbean.”
“What?” Matkazeme said, staring in disbelief at her father.
“And my hope is that your mother will agree to run it,” he said.
“But you’re still planning on buying and developing Owen Island,” Gerald said, frowning. “John, I don’t have to tell you how big a public relations nightmare that would be.”
“Develop it? Absolutely not,” he said, shaking his head. “But I have bought it.”
“To what end?” Gerald said.
“To make sure it stays untouched,” he said. “When we got married there, Madlenka said that people could wonder all they wanted if paradise could actually be found on earth, but that little islet was proof of its existence. Owen Island will be one of the centerpieces of the Institute.” He stared off into the distance. “I can already see your mother walking the beach or diving in the coral. She’s going to love it.”
“Who’s going to love what?”
All of us turned in our seats and saw Dr. Oliver Couch standing a few feet away. None of us had heard him arrive, and he had definitely caught us by surprise. I studied his face closely, and, as I expected, he was glaring at John Smith.
“Hello, Oliver,” John Smith said.
“Have a seat, Oliver,” my mother said, gesturing at the remaining place setting. “I hope you’re hungry. We have a ton of food.”
“Thanks, maybe I’ll eat later,” he said, glancing briefly at my mother before sitting down and fixating on Smith. “How could you do that to me, John? We go way back.”
John Smith exhaled, then shrugged his shoulders at his friend.
“I’m sorry, Oliver,” he said. “But I needed that piece of property. And you refused to sell it to me.”
“I was going to build on it,” Dr. Couch snapped. “Two dozen luxury condos. Each one with an oceanfront view. Do you have any idea how much I would have made on that deal?”
“A little over sixteen million,” Smith said, shrugging. “But that land parcel is sitting right in the middle of where the Blue Iguana sanctuary is going to be located.”
“If you had mentioned what your plans were, I’m sure we could have come to an agreement,” Dr. Couch said.
“I couldn’t say anything to anybody, Oliver,” Smith said softly. “Word would have gotten out, and the prices people would have wanted for their land would have gone through the roof.”
“So, you decided to run a scam on the people you’ve worked with all these years?”
“Technically, it’s not a scam, Oliver,” Smith said, trying to downplay it. “Everyone, including you got more than fair market value for your land. You’re just not going to make what you expected to. But remember, Oliver, you did eventually make the choice to sell it.”
“Only because you sent that henchman posing as a Jansmid representative to my house threatening to break my legs,” Oliver snapped, his face beginning to flush red.
“Gavin wasn’t posing,” Smith said, shaking his head. “He was a Jansmid employee. In fact, he was the only employee. And I apologize for his behavior. I did not give him instructions to threaten or hurt you. But as it turned out, he was a little hard to control.”
John Smith nodded at his daughter, then reached out to gently stroke the side of her bruised face. Matkazeme flinched at first, then let him continue without protest. Dr. Couch glanced at the woman and seemed to see her for the first time.
“Zemmy?” he said with a scowl that morphed into a forced smile then became a puzzled expression that remained on his face. “It’s so nice to see you here.”
“No thanks to you, right, Dr. Couch?” she said through narrowed eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said, backpedaling. “But that was your father’s idea. He wanted you out of the hospital and taken someplace safe.”
“So I’ve been informed,” Matkazeme said, glancing back and forth at him and her father.
“You played me,” Dr. Couch snapped, refocusing his anger on Smith.
“Yes, I did,” Smith said, staring back at him. “But you more than got your initial investment back. And it’s for a good cause. Actually, I’m thinking about naming one of the Institute’s buildings after you.”
Dr. Oliver Couch’s face had officially turned crimson, and he gripped the table with both hands and began taking deep breaths.
“I’m going to sue you and Jansmid for everything you’ve got,” Dr. Couch whispered.
“You’re too late, Oliver,” Smith said softly. “I’ve already transferred everything into the Institute. And the rest of my personal funds have been bequeathed to Zemmy and Madlenka.”
“What?” Dr. Couch said, wincing in his chair.
He glanced at Gerald who confirmed the news with a nod of his head.
“All the paperwork came through in one big batch to General Registry today,” Gerald said.
“My lawyer has the new will. And Jansmid no longer exists as a corporation,” John Smith said.
“How is that possible?” Dr. Couch said, slamming a fist on the table. The sound reverberated across the lawn, and Earl flinched and tucked himself under my mother’s arm. “How did you pull that off?”
“Everything was handled in cash,” Smith said. “The people I was working with on this deal operate on a cash basis. They needed their money laundered, and I made that happen. It cost me a small fortune to make it work, and they’re not going to make what they thought they were going to, but I made sure they were taken care of. The last thing I would want is for Zemmy or Madlenka having to worry about those people after I’m gone.”
“Organized crime?” Matkazeme said to her father.
“Close enough,” he said, patting her hand. “But you won’t have to worry about them. I’ve given my lawyer a long list of names and a detailed description of their operations.” He paused and glanced at Gerald. “Just so you know, Gerald, your name’s on the list, too.”
“What?” Gerald said, almost coming out of his chair. “I don’t have anything to do with those people, and you know it.”
“Yes, perhaps,” John Smith said with a coy smile. “But if they ever raise their ugly little heads down here, she’s been instructed to make sure the government and the media get copies of everything.” He stared off toward the beach and shook his head. “Getting involved with those people was the worst thing I ever did. Except for letting your mother get away, of course.”
“Did that animal Gavin work for them?” Matkazeme said, subconsciously touching her face.
“Yes, he did,” Smith said. “I think they were looking for somewhere to put him and get him out of their hair. From what I hear, he was a major source of embarrassment to their outfit. I’m so sorry I turned him loose on you, Zemmy. You too, Oliver.”
“He got what was coming to him,” Dr. Couch said, wincing and pressing a hand against his shoulder.
“Yes, he did, didn’t he?” John Smith said, grinning at Dr. Couch.
“Here we go,” I whispered to Josie. “Buckle up.”
“What?” Josie said, glancing down the table.
“You’ll see,” I whispered, then gave Detective Renfro a quick wave. He gave me the briefest of nods and remained focused on the interplay between Dr. Couch and Smith.
Dr. Oliver Couch stared across the table at the smile John Smith was giving him and frowned.
“What are you grinning at?”
“I’m just happy that Gavin got what he deserved,” John Smith said. “And I guess I have you to thank for that, Oliver.”
My mother and Gerald sat upright in their chairs. I leaned forward to keep a close eye on Dr. Couch’s hands that were once again gripping the table edge.
“Why would you thank me?” Dr. Couch whispered.
“For shooting that despicable cretin, what else?” John Smith said, shrugging.
Dr. Couch’s eyes grew wide. Stunned, he looked around the table with an expression like he’d been hit in the head with a hammer. My mother and Gerald both sadly shook their heads in silence. Josie and Chef Claire exchanged surprised looks, then both of them focused on me.
“Dr. Couch killed Gavin?” Josie whispered.
“Yeah,” I whispered back.
“How the heck did you figure that out?”
“Shhh,” I said, holding a finger to my lips.
“I shot Gavin? Nice try, John, but I think your illness is starting to affect your thinking,” Dr. Couch said, doing his best to laugh it off but failing miserably.