The Philanthropist's Danse

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Authors: Paul Wornham

Tags: #FICTION / Mystery & Detective / General, #Fiction / Thrillers, #Fiction / Suspense, #FIC030000, #FIC031000, #FIC022000

BOOK: The Philanthropist's Danse
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The
Philanthropist’s
Dan$e
A Novel
Paul Wornham
Chapter One

“I
t’s time, sir. The first car is just a few minutes out.”

William Bird nodded. “Thanks Jeremy. Are we ready?”

“Yes, we’re ready. Their timing is fortunate indeed. Another hour of this snow and we’d be cut off until this storm is over.” Both men had worried their careful preparations would be undone by upstate New York’s unpredictable January weather.

Jeremy saw a flicker of light through the trees and pointed. “Here they come.” A line of headlights appeared from the side road as a convoy of twelve luxury sedans made the final turn on to the long driveway. The cars slowed to a halt, and the drivers waited for directions from the valets.

Jeremy took his leave. “I’ll go and supervise the arrival. Good luck, Mr. Bird, with everything.”

As the last car was unloaded, Bird was relieved to see all twelve of his guests were accounted for. His abiding fear had been that one or more might change their mind about making the journey, but his employer’s name was a powerful motivator. He need not have been concerned. Bird absently smoothed his graying hair, a habit his wife would recognize as a sign of nerves.

Jeremy, the great mansion’s major-domo, stepped back into the room. “We’re all set. Your guests are accounted for and are waiting in their suites. A few were quite distressed by the deception, of course, but they have been told to wait for your call. Will there be anything else for the time being, sir?”

“Not now Jeremy, let’s give them a few minutes to settle.” The major-domo tilted his head in acknowledgement and left, silently closing the door behind him.

William didn’t need to give his guests time to settle, the delay was for his own state of mind. He was desperately tired after a frantic week of locating twelve people and organizing logistics around the globe to ensure each person’s attendance on time tonight. Each guest had been promised a private meeting with his client, the famous philanthropist Johnston C. Thurwell. He could imagine their anger now they discovered the invitation was not as promised.

Bird checked his reflection in the window, brushed invisible creases from his tailored suit and made an unnecessary adjustment to his already perfect tie. Satisfied he at least looked ready, William stepped briskly into the lobby where Jeremy’s efficient staff swept the entrance clean of detritus that had blown in with the guests.

The house felt different now others were here, and he was no longer the staff’s sole charge. He looked up at the sweeping gallery and the long hallways that led to the guest suites. The people waiting up there would demand explanations from him, but would be far from happy when they got them.

There was no more time for organization, everything was as ready as it could be. Any further delay would only be procrastination. It was time for the
Danse
to begin. He reached for the telephone and issued the order to bring his guests to him.

$

Bird did not wait for more than a few minutes before Jeremy led the first person down, a short blond man in his late thirties dressed in an elegantly tailored suit and tie. Johnston Thurwell III, or Junior as he was more commonly known, strode into his father’s conference room and looked around slowly before deigning to notice the lawyer.

“William, you better have a bloody good reason for bringing me here under false pretences.” Junior’s sneer was condescending, but Bird ignored his casual rudeness and forced a smile.

“Good Evening, Junior. I apologize for the deceit in your invitation, but I assure you that there is a good reason for it that I’ll explain very soon.” Bird gestured toward the large conference table. “Seating is assigned. You may take your place when you’re ready.”

Junior took a walk around the table, inspecting the place cards. “I know some of these names Bird, but what are they doing here?” There was an edge to Junior’s voice, but the lawyer pretended not to hear it, there was no point antagonizing the philanthropist’s mercurial son. Not yet.

“Junior, I’d prefer to explain just once, when everyone is present, so please, a little patience?”

Junior glowered. He was used to getting what he wanted immediately, but saw the logic in the lawyer’s request and let it go. He’d find out soon enough what his father was up to. He took a position with his back to the vast fireplace and started rocking on his heels, forward and back, heel to toe. The lawyer watched with concealed amusement. Junior thought the rocking disguised his short stature, something he was sensitive of. No one had dared tell him that it didn’t work.

$

William turned away and smiled broadly as Jeremy arrived with his next guest, a tall, graceful woman. Bethany Thurwell, the philanthropist’s daughter, approached the lawyer with a soft smile. Her deep brown eyes were friendly and playful.

“William, it’s been ages since I’ve seen you.” She delivered deft air kisses near the lawyer’s face. “But I do wish you had told me others were coming...” She shot a sharp glance at her brother and her voice took on a frosty tone. “Junior, I see you’re here first, as usual.”

Her brother sneered back. “Sister, it’s so nice to see you too, darling.”

Bethany grimaced and returned her attention to the lawyer as she combed an errant strand of dark blonde hair from her face. “So, what is all this about William? It’s very mysterious for you to call me away from the City when you know Father has that simply enormous benefit next month. I’m a very busy girl, you know.”

She looked directly into his eyes as she spoke, making him feel like he was the only person in her world at this moment. Bethany was hugely persuasive, but the lawyer was immune to her charm, having known her all her life. He tried to smile, but foreknowledge of his impending cruelty to her made the expression difficult.

“Bethany, my dear, I’ll explain soon, take your seat if you’d like.”

She smiled, defeated. She enjoyed teasing Bird but had learned to respect his stoic immunity to her devastating charm offensives. “Okay William, but it better be good.” A smile danced on her lips as she walked gracefully to the table and performed a full circle to review the place cards, as her brother had done moments before. Choosing not to sit, she walked to the window and stared out into the night, apparently content to wait.

$

A shout alerted Bird to the philanthropist’s youngest son’s arrival. Philip Thurwell burst in to the conference room as he entered every room, with too much noise and motion. He was a good-looking man in his late twenties with long hair worn in a surfer style. He dressed like a poor art student, but his t-shirt was a designer brand and a Greenwich Village artisan had tailored his jeans.

He bounced past the lawyer with a dismissive wave and scurried to scoop his sister up in a hug. “Hi Sis!” Bethany pretended to be annoyed as he planted her back down, but was unable to disguise the amusement in her eyes as he pouted. “Miss me?”

She rolled her eyes, and her nose wrinkled in horror as she looked at her younger brother. “Philip, what are you wearing, exactly?” Bethany had quarreled with her brother about his fashion sense from the day she opened her first fashion magazine, but she had never won an argument over his apparel, not once.

Philip grinned and winked at her as he strode over to greet his scowling brother. “Junior, nice to see you’re here too.” He extended his hand, which was given a dutiful shake before being dropped, quickly. If Philip was upset with Junior, he didn’t show it. Instead, he turned away and approached the lawyer with open arms and a fake grin. “If it isn’t my old friend and nemesis Billy Bird, the turd.”

He stopped a single step in front of the lawyer, deliberately invading Bird’s personal space. “So, Bill. You dragged me up here on a false promise. Tell me why. How did I piss off the Old Man this time?”

The lawyer offered Philip a tired smile. “This isn’t about you Phil, it’s not another intervention. I promise. Find your seat and I’ll explain soon.”

Philip leaned forward, and his eyes became menacing slits as he opened his mouth to deliver some well-distilled bile, but Bethany called him off. “Philip, that’s enough. William has promised to explain everything. I think it’s all rather exciting, don’t you? Now come here and tell me exactly where you’ve been.”

Philip walked backward a few paces and maintained eye contact with the lawyer before he returned to his sister. The lawyer exhaled slowly. He had become afraid of Philip since the last time he was required to intervene in his life. Something had changed in him. A dangerous edge had appeared where a simple rebellious streak had once been.

$

William silently thanked Bethany for his reprieve when he caught movement in the corner of his eye and turned to meet his next guests. Jeremy delivered two people, a couple. Dennis and Janice Elliot entered the unfamiliar room nervously, but smiled when they recognized their employer’s lawyer.

Janice immediately took charge. “Mr. Bird, sir, we’ve come as you instructed, but we haven’t been given any duties and the staff have provided us with a guest suite.”

Dennis waited for his wife to pause until he dared speak. “I haven’t seen Mr. Thurwell yet and was wondering if he’ll need me tonight, or will his man here see to him?” He trailed off as his wife gave him a sharp look before she turned back to Bird and encouraged him to answer her original question.

“Janice, you and Dennis are here as guests. The call for you to come and assist was a necessary deception, I’m afraid. There is no need to be concerned about duties as the mansion is fully staffed. You’ll find places ready at the table, why don’t you take your seats?”

The couple looked at each other. They were confused by the turn of events but walked to the table under the scrutiny of the three members of the Thurwell family. They were surprised to find they were not seated together, but after a whispered argument during which Janice repeatedly poked her husband in the chest, they took their seats at opposite ends of the table. They were self-conscious of the curious looks directed at them by their employer’s family and kept their eyes downcast.

Bird caught a look from Junior who raised an eyebrow in unspoken question. The lawyer knew Junior was wondering why the hired help was seated at his father’s conference table. It was a predictable reaction from Junior, but the lawyer put it out of his mind. He needed Junior to be true to his nature tonight. In fact, he was counting on it.

$

Jeremy appeared again, this time escorting an elderly guest. She had traveled the farthest of all his guests and was utterly bemused by the whirlwind of events that had plucked her from an English farmhouse and dropped her into a luxurious mansion in America. Bird stepped forward and took the elderly woman’s hand. “Mrs. Tremethick, I’m so pleased to meet you at last, ma’am. I hope your journey was comfortable?”

The old lady looked up, and her sharp blue eyes met his without flinching. “So you’re Mr. Bird? Well let me tell you, I don’t like this much at all, pulling me out of my own home with no proper explanation. Now where is this fellow that wants to meet me so badly?”

Her complaints were loud, and everyone watched the scene as the lawyer folded the woman’s arm through his and walked her to a seat as he reassured her. The old lady grumbled but sat and greeted her neighbor, Janice Elliot. Janice smiled, but the smile never touched her eyes as she contemplated the old woman. Once Bird assured himself of the relative comfort of his aged guest, he returned to his place at the door.

$

A striking, petite young woman with a mass of thick black hair arrived on Jeremy’s arm. She wore simple wool pants and a cashmere sweater, but she oozed feminine allure. She smoked a dark cigarette and a swirl of blue smoke framed her unblemished face and traced vaporous tendrils through her hair.

The young woman offered her hand. “Monsieur Bird, how nice it is to see you again.” She spoke with a European accent that to Bethany’s well-traveled ear sounded Parisian French. The lawyer took the woman’s offered hand and, conscious of the many eyes on them, shook it rather than delivering the kiss the newcomer had expected. She raised an eyebrow in a perfect arch and her black eyes smoldered with mischief as she exclaimed, too loudly. “So formal today, William? Pour quoi?”

He squirmed at her brazen goading, all too aware Bethany was watching. He gestured to the table at the center of the room. “Miss Jolivet, please be seated, we’ll start in a few moments.”

She noted his discomfort at her flirty entrance and turned slowly, making sure to deliver a good view of her shapely profile to the leering young man by the window. She walked to the table like a cat, fully aware that all eyes were on her. She circled the table slowly and ran a finger lightly along the back of each chair until she found her seat. She sat delicately and made deliberate eye contact with every person as she took a long drag of her cigarette.

“Do you have to smoke in here?” Everyone looked at Bethany as she issued the challenge. The newcomer’s dark eyes rose to appraise Bethany as she mentally filed information about her challenger’s clothes, nails and hair along with the million other details an attractive woman makes when she encounters a rival. She took another long drag on her cigarette and held it for a moment.

“Non, I do not have to smoke.” She paused to take another drag, finishing her thought as she exhaled. “I choose to smoke.” She leaned back in her chair with one arm draped over the back and watched Bethany for a reaction but was disappointed as Bethany was distracted by the next arrival.

A tall man with silver hair and a booming voice greeted the lawyer with a heavy clap on the shoulder as he called his greetings to the Thurwell family. Lawrence MacLean was familiar to the Thurwells as their father’s oldest friend. Bethany instantly forgot the irritating French woman and embraced him warmly.

“Uncle Larry, I’ve missed you. I thought you were going to be in the Caribbean until March?” Bethany held MacLean’s hand as Philip stepped forward to greet the old man with a smile and handshake. The three of them wandered back to the corner by the window, leaving the lawyer alone again.

William saw Junior frown at the warmth between his siblings and Larry MacLean. Recent history between the two men had been problematic, but Bird did not know why. He assumed Larry reached his limit of how much of Junior’s attitude he could take. It happened routinely to people who knew Junior.

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