The Philanthropist's Danse (28 page)

William saw the move and reached out, putting his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, stopping him. He saw the major-domo wrestle for control of himself, but soon the man’s calm demeanor returned, and William relaxed. The Judge did the same. He had watched Jeremy warily as soon as he noticed his balled fists.

Junior looked afraid, which was fine with William. The bluster had left Junior, and he sounded like a small boy. “What are you going to do now, Bill? Can I talk to Camille? Let me tell her that it was a mistake.”

William frowned. “No. You don’t get to see Camille or Beth unless they want to see you, or until tomorrow’s meeting. Assuming they are well enough to make it.” He looked at the clock. It was after 1 a.m. “As for what I’m going to do? Nothing, though I wish I could. Any other time I’d already have called the police, but this is not a normal time and I am forbidden from breaking our isolation.”

William felt his anger rise and let some of his frustration find voice. “What your sisters may do after we conclude the meeting is up to them. I will recommend that they charge you with assault. You’re disgusting Junior. You have been a disgrace to your father for a long time, but for the first time you’ve given me an opportunity to tell you to your face.”

Junior looked like he’d been slapped, but there was something else in his eyes. He heard there would be no police and realized he would have an opportunity to persuade his sisters not to press charges. He looked at Bird and in a sudden spark of cunning knew he was powerless to act, bound by rules that he would never break.

Junior stood and pulled his suit coat on, moving slowly as the others watched. He took a step toward William, and his eyes bored into the lawyer. “Don’t talk to me like that, Bill. Not ever.”

Bird took a step back, surprised by Junior’s sudden change in mood. He realized Junior had spotted a weakness he could exploit. Junior took a step forward to stay in Bird’s face when a hand as hard as steel landed on his chest and stopped him cold.

Jeremy had no intention of allowing Junior to gain an advantage and sat him down on the couch with a firm push. The major-domo saw a flicker of fear in Junior’s eyes, his bravado had left him. Judge Freeman stepped away from the door and into Junior’s view. “I have a question, Mr. Thurwell. Why did you think Dennis Elliot would be here? It’s a curious thing, and I’d like an explanation.”

Junior could not look the Judge in the eye. “I don’t know, I just thought it might be him. He’s never liked me.”

Freeman frowned, the excuse made no sense. Dennis would have no cause to know about the events of the evening, unless one of the women had called him. Freeman wondered if the manservant offered protection to one or more of the sisters, or perhaps there was more to it. He shrugged as if he accepted Junior’s explanation, but resolved at the same instant to find Dennis and ask what the real deal was.

William wanted to leave Junior and return to the sisters. “I’ll have Jeremy leave a man at your door tonight. Don’t leave this room. We’ll have breakfast brought up, and I’ll let you know if there is any change to tomorrow’s arrangements. Until then, I’m confining you to this room.”

Junior protested. “You can’t do that. I have to talk to my sisters about how to deal with tomorrow’s session. It’s not fair to deny us preparation time.”

William snorted. “Your sisters want nothing to do with you, Junior. You’ll be lucky to survive a vote tomorrow, you may have attacked Camille, but I think you really beat yourself.”

He savored the frightened expression that appeared on Junior’s face. His barb struck home as Junior realized his loss of temper could have dire consequences when the group reconvened. William summoned the Judge and Jeremy, and the three of them left the room, locking the door behind them. Jeremy called for a man to stand guard at Junior’s door and told the lawyer and judge he’d follow them as soon as the guard arrived.

$

When Jeremy re-joined them, they were in conversation with Caroline. She had helped herself to a couple of glasses of wine and was calmer, but still badly shaken by what she’d witnessed. She retold what happened and left no detail out. To the horror of the men, she recalled exactly the verbal tirade against Bethany that preceded the attack on Camille.

Bird shook his head. He knew about Junior’s temper, but Smith’s recounting of the verbal assault was shocking. The lawyer thought Camille’s physical wounds might heal faster than Bethany’s mental wounds. If everything Caroline told them was true, Beth might have suffered severe emotional trauma. He asked Jeremy to escort Caroline to her room and noticed her relief when he told her Junior was confined to his suite.

The nurse told William that both women were asleep, and he could not disturb them. Something in her tone would have stopped him from insisting if he’d wanted to, but he was content to let them sleep. He and the Judge left the room and parted ways, the Judge to retire to his room and William to his office.

A deep tiredness came over him as he walked to his office, but he smiled when he saw Jeremy waiting at his door with a hot drink.

“Here you are sir, a little restorative for you, it’ll help you relax.”

William took it with a grateful nod and the major-domo disappeared in the dark library. Ten minutes later Bird emerged again, locked his office door and climbed the stairs to his suite.

P
hilip was woken by the sound of the cellar door opening. A servant carrying a tray entered the cellar, followed by Jeremy. Philip rolled over in his cot and swung his legs out, only to be stopped by a sharp word from the major-domo.

“Stay there, son. You don’t get up until we’re out, understand?”

He stopped immediately and watched Jeremy clear a space for the other man to put down the tray.

Philip smelled eggs and bacon and his mouth watered at the thought of a hot breakfast. There was coffee too, and he thanked Jeremy. The major-domo ignored the thanks. “You’ve got a plastic spoon, no fork or knife. Find a way to manage. I’ll come back in an hour, and I expect the food to be eaten and your spoon, plate and cup to be by the door. If they’re not, this will be your last meal of the day. Any questions?”

Philip tried to sound confident. “Yeah, I have a question. What’s going on? Are the cops coming? Because I’m pretty sure you can’t lock me up in here like this.”

Jeremy sniffed, he didn’t like Philip’s attitude. It reminded him of Junior’s bluster. “Mr. Bird will decide what happens to you, when he’s got time. Sit tight, don’t make a fuss and maybe you’ll be okay. Maybe.”

The door closed, and Philip tumbled out of his cot and ate his breakfast sitting on the floor. As he ate, he worried about the fact that the man he’d tried to kill was responsible for deciding his fate.

$

Sarah let herself into Camille’s suite quietly and saw no evidence the sisters were awake. She looked at her watch, it was after seven. Jeremy had asked her to find out if Camille would be able to make the meeting at nine. She had already assured him that Bethany’s ankle would not prevent her from attending, but could not speak for her mental state.

She knocked lightly on the bedroom door and was surprised when Bethany opened it. “Oh, Miss Thurwell. Good morning. How are you? I hope you rested well?” Bethany just nodded and walked to the washroom. She favored her ankle, but her limp was not pronounced.

Camille lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Sarah breezed into the room with a cheery attitude and opened the curtains wide. Snow was falling again, and yesterday’s sunshine was just a memory. The dark clouds looked heavy enough to bury the whole state in snow.

Camille winced and covered her eyes as light flooded the room. She still suffered from a bad headache. Sarah took a look at her patient. The stitched brow was neat and clean. She would have a small scar when the swelling went down, but careful application of make-up would cover it. Sarah was most concerned about Camille’s cheek. It had swelled so much that her right eye was completely closed. The eye itself was blackened, but the bruise was already yellowing.

“How do you feel, any blurry vision or headaches this morning?” Camille groaned. “My head hurts.” Her words were distorted by her swollen lips.

Sarah reached into her bag for painkillers. “Can you swallow these without water?” Camille shook her head, so Sarah called Jeremy for a glass of water.

Bethany joined them, and Sarah checked her ankle while they waited for the water. “You’re fine, it’s a mild sprain. We’ll keep a bandage on it for a few days, but you should soon be back to normal.”

Bethany asked about Camille, and Sarah assured her the injuries looked worse than they actually were, though she would need medication to dull the pain. Sarah saw the shock of the night’s events still reflected in Bethany’s eyes. “Do you think you and your sister will be up to attending the meetings today, Miss? Mr. Bird is concerned to know.”

“I can do it, but Camille? I don’t know. I’ll talk to her, but no promises.” Sarah nodded and answered a knock at the door. She received the glass of water and a tray of breakfast foods and juices. She gave Camille her painkillers and slipped out.

$

Dennis stepped out of the shower and toweled himself dry, he felt happy this morning. He was well rested and ready to start the day. Last night he and Janice had enjoyed a bottle of wine, talked about the settlement and remembered their employer with kindness. They had spoken about what their future might hold and had ended the night making love, the first time they had been intimate in many months. Dennis smiled broadly as he hummed a tuneless ditty.

Janice listened to her husband in the shower and was troubled. They had spent a beautiful evening together, the best for a long time. Was she in love with Dennis again? Her thoughts were jumbled, and she couldn’t tell if her feelings were gratitude for his help after the nightmare in Junior’s room, or something else.

Dennis had questioned her about the discrepancy between her and Bethany’s account of the first deal, and Janice had convinced him that she had not mentioned the bonus because it was not guaranteed. She thought he believed her and was glad. If he found out what she had actually tried to do, their fresh start would be over just as Janice was beginning to believe she wanted them to make it.

Dennis came out of the washroom and saw his wife with her eyes open, deep in thought. He surprised her when he jumped onto the bed and tickled her through the sheets. She squirmed and giggled, telling him to quit being a fool. She sounded annoyed, but he kissed her and muffled her protests. “We don’t have time for this, Den.” But Dennis wasn’t listening, and soon she wasn’t protesting.

$

Junior was still dressed in yesterday’s suit. He had not gone to bed, and his mind was a confusion of thoughts. He was afraid of what might happen when the group met this morning. He wasn’t concerned about their reaction to what he had done, but he was worried how it would affect their votes.

He had rigidly promoted the idea that his family should get a larger share than the others, but now he was afraid of being voted out with nothing at all if they turned on him. His anger sparked. The people in the mansion had no business dealing with money that was not theirs. He felt diminished by having to plead to strangers for his own inheritance.

His thoughts were interrupted when Jeremy knocked and entered his suite, followed by a waiter.

“Your breakfast, sir. The meeting starts at nine, I will come back and escort you down.” Jeremy waited for the other man to uncover the plates and pour a cup of coffee and then both left without another look toward Junior, who fumed at the major-domo’s ignorance.

He looked at the tray of food and decided he was hungry. As he ate, he worked at finding a way to save himself from thieves who were trying to cheat him of his birthright.

$

Freddie had been up for a couple of hours and had already visited the gym. He picked up the phone and asked to be connected to Betty’s room. When she answered, he invited her to breakfast and they agreed to meet in the dining room at seven-thirty. He smiled, she was an agreeable companion. He now understood why Johnston had kept her around so many years.

Betty had rebuffed his clumsy advances so skillfully last night that he hadn’t minded the rejection at all. He looked out of the window and watched the snow fall. He hoped today would bring an end to the negotiations. Last night had turned ugly after the penalty had been triggered and he was worried about how much more they could take.

$

William sipped a strong coffee at his desk as he flipped through the stack of unopened yellow envelopes. He hoped to find one that would provide a clue about what to do with Philip and Junior. If he could find one with circumstances close enough to actual events, he’d let the Old Man guide him.

The phone rang, and he answered on the first ring. It was Bethany. He listened, thanked her and hung up. He was pleased to hear that Camille felt well enough to make the meeting on time. She asked for assurances Junior would not be able to hurt them. He promised Bethany there was no need for concern, he personally guaranteed their safety.

He returned to the envelopes. The Old Man had hoped events would not take a violent turn. Even as he had anticipated such events, he would never have believed his sons would be involved. However, Philip was locked in the wine cellar, and Junior was under guard in his room. But what could William do with them?

$

The dining room was sparsely populated when Freddie walked in. Betty gave him a friendly wave, and he joined her. He nodded a greeting to Larry MacLean, who sat alone. Judge Freeman sat at another table but had his back to the rest of the room. Freddie thought about offering a greeting, but decided Betty’s smile was more inviting than the Judge’s broad back.

$

Camille and Bethany said little as they ate together in their room. Camille tried to drink a protein drink through a straw, but detested the taste and switched to coffee, which she discovered tasted odd when drunk through a straw. Bethany poked at the food on her plate, she had no appetite. She blanched when Camille lit a cigarette, but said nothing. Her sister looked terrible in the morning light, her face was bruised and swollen, and her right eye was entirely closed. The pretty face with the mischievous Gallic charm had been devastated by Junior’s handiwork, and even her good eye was haunted by fear and pain.

Bethany reached out and held her sister’s hand as she smoked, letting her know she was there.

Camille squeezed her hand and mumbled a sound that might have been “Thank you.” She had difficulty expressing anything clearly.

Bethany was worried. “Are you sure you can do this, Camille? I can call Bill again and postpone, if you want.”

Her sister shrugged, which gave Bethany no significant clue as to what she meant. Camille saw Bethany’s confusion and mumbled. “The money, we cannot lose more. If I attend, we finish.”

Beth nodded, she understood. None of them wanted another penalty. They had lost too much already. Forty percent of the fortune had been wasted because of their inability to agree.

Bethany felt sure everyone must be as tired of the mansion as she was, and hoped the group would come to an agreement today. The problem that worried her most was her brothers. She did not know what William intended to do about Philip, and now there was also the aftermath of Junior’s attack on Camille. She had been prevented from seeing Junior. The man at Junior’s door was polite but firm and refused to admit her without William’s permission.

She sighed. Twenty-four hours ago, the family had been united. First they lost Philip, then she had voted against Junior and the result had been disaster. Bethany looked at her watch. It was almost eight and time to get ready.