The Philanthropist's Danse (33 page)

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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 only reason you have no money for yourself is because you’re a spoiled jerk, brother. You admitted you killed a man, and you lost your inheritance because of it. You have no one to blame for your troubles but yourself. If you prefer, I’ll stop helping. I’ll go back to William and tell him to press charges, let you rot in jail somewhere. Is that what you want, Phil? Is it?”

She breathed hard as she finished and saw hurt in his eyes as he rubbed the cheek that had already been abused by Jeremy’s blow. He dropped his eyes. He was ashamed that everything she had said was true. “Okay. I’m sorry. I need your help, and if Junior will help me out too, I’ll be nice about asking for it. I have to get out of here, Beth. I can’t stand being cooped up like this. Can you do anything to get me out of here before tomorrow?”

Before Bethany could answer, the heavy door swung open and William stepped into the room, followed by Jeremy. Philip took a step back involuntarily. He was afraid of the major-domo and did not like him too close. Bethany turned to the two men. “Phil was asking if he could get out of here.”

William was happy to have Jeremy with him as he was haunted by the image of Philip standing over him, ready to stave his head in. “Yes, I can make that happen, at least for a few hours. Philip will join us for dinner tonight. Do you promise to behave, Philip? You will not be allowed any alcohol. Can you give me your word you will behave? If you can, I’ll make arrangements for you to spend a more comfortable night in a guarded room instead of down here. You need not run. I’m sure Bethany told you that we’re letting you go tomorrow.”

Philip listened with his eyes fixed on the floor. His heart beat fast at the prospect of getting out of his cell. “I’ll behave, you have my word.”

The lawyer frowned, he would have liked a more sincere tone in Philip’s voice, but it would have to do. “If you mess tonight up, Phil, my deal with your sister is off, and you’ll leave tomorrow in the back of a cop car, got it?”

Philip bristled. “I gave my word, Bird. If you don’t believe me, just say so.”

The lawyer nodded. “Okay, I’ll take you at your word. I’ll have you taken to a room, so you can change. You’ll be accompanied at all times. Not because I don’t trust you, but because the others will feel safer knowing you are not roaming the mansion. Accept it as a consequence of trying to kill me and admitting to killing another man.”

With that, the lawyer left and Jeremy followed, pulling the door shut behind them. Philip looked at his sister and saw her watching him closely. He struggled to suppress the anger he felt at being treated like a common criminal. He would wait, he would behave, he had to get out of here and forget this place. He realized he had been given a second chance and for once he decided to take it and not screw up.

He turned to his sister and took her into a hug and whispered. “It’s alright Beth, I’ll be good. I just want to go home.”

He felt her draw closer, and she cried into his shoulder. “Thank you, Phil. We’ll work it all out, just the family. You’ll be okay.”

After a few minutes, Jeremy opened the door and told Bethany it was time to go. He beckoned for Philip to follow. “It’s time for you to get ready for dinner, follow me.” Philip left the cellar without a backward glance and meekly followed the major-domo to his room. He kept his promise to his sister and behaved, but mostly because he was terrified of Jeremy.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

J
eremy checked to see that everything was ready for the formal dinner that would bring the
Danse
to a close. A vast table dominated the dining room. It was covered in a pristine white cloth with creases that looked sharp enough to cause injury. All the trappings of the philanthropist’s immense wealth had been brought out for the occasion, and the table was laden with heavy silver candelabras and cutlery.

The meal would be five courses of the best cuisine, prepared on site by a New York celebrity chef who had been paid a handsome sum to be ready at short notice for the drive north. The guests would eat in style, and each course would be served on Thurwell’s finest porcelain.

The major-domo was satisfied everything was perfect. He looked at the large chair at the head of the table wistfully. It would remain empty tonight, but each course would be served there. It was Johnston Thurwell’s traditional place and where Jeremy had overseen many formal dinners. Some of the world’s richest men had dined here, as had powerful politicians and leading thinkers of the time. The Old Man had been a consummate host, able to make everyone feel welcome at his country estate. Tonight there would be no gregarious host, only an empty chair.

Place cards printed on expensive card stock with an embossed Thurwell crest indicated the seat each guest would occupy. Jeremy had argued with William about changing Philip’s position, so he could be controlled if things went awry, but Bird would tolerate no changes to the philanthropist’s instructions. Jeremy had instead adjusted his staff to compensate and placed a burly waiter at the station nearest Philip. Not even the attentive lawyer would notice the subtle change, but Jeremy would feel more relaxed knowing he had the ability to control Philip quickly should the need arise.

He picked an invisible speck from the tablecloth and headed to the kitchen to let the chef know everything was on schedule. In thirty-five minutes, the first course would be served.

$

William cursed as he fumbled his bow tie for the third time. He looked at his reflection and tried to remember in which direction he was supposed to fold the black silk. He hated formal attire and thought he looked ridiculous in a tuxedo. The lawyer knew many clumsy men who could put on evening wear and be transformed into elegant creatures who moved with grace and confidence. He was not one of those men and knew it, he always looked a little unfinished.

Thurwell had threatened to haunt him from beyond the grave if William dared show up at the dinner wearing a clip-on, so the lawyer lifted his chin and tried to recall what to do with his hands. He watched his fingers fumble the fourth attempt and threw the tie on the bed in frustration. He would have Jeremy help him. There was nothing in the rules that forbade getting some assistance.

William’s impatience was a symptom of his nervousness. He had tried to dissuade the Old Man from a formal dinner, but unsuccessfully. William had two tasks to perform at the dinner, he was its host, and he had to read a letter. His uneasiness came from the fact that he had no idea what the letter said. It was sealed in his safe and could only be opened in front of everyone. It had been the last thing the Old Man had written before he became too weak to continue. William remembered the moment his boss had grabbed his arm and handed it to him. His grip was a mere shadow of its former strength, but his eyes had been fierce with determination as he instructed Bird what to do with the letter.

William looked at his watch. Jeremy had found the valuable timepiece outside the boathouse and had returned it that afternoon. He was due to meet Jeremy in the dining room in a few moments. He took his tie and headed to his office to collect the letter before meeting the major-domo to throw himself upon the man’s mercy for a decent knot.

$

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 fool 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.

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