Read The Philanthropist's Danse Online

Authors: Paul Wornham

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

The Philanthropist's Danse (6 page)

BOOK: The Philanthropist's Danse
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He might be able to survive the fallout, but if his political career was wrecked, at least he could secure some of the philanthropist’s wealth as compensation. The judge sighed and looked directly at Philip. “I have met William Bird before. He flew down from New York to represent you, following your arrest. Mr. Bird showed me evidence that compromised the legitimacy of your arrest, and I saw to it that the case against you was dismissed. I can hardly believe your father considered my intervention on your behalf deserved a great reward, yet who am I to argue?”

He was pleased with his response, it sounded reasonable. Bird would not contradict his story so all he needed to do was remain plausible. Philip stared at the Judge with hostile eyes, but he had no desire for the group to know the details of his crime, so he let it drop.

Junior did not share his brother’s concern and jabbed a finger at the Judge as he interrupted. “What was my idiot brother charged with, Judge?”

“That information is privileged, I’m afraid. I can’t comment. You’ll need to ask your brother.”

Junior glared coldly at the Judge but turned to his youngest sibling. “Well, Phil, what did you do?” Philip decided to simplify the story. “I crashed the 911, bro. No biggie.”

Junior looked at the Judge and then back at Philip as his face registered incredulity. “So this Judge gets to steal our inheritance because you totaled your Porsche? Jesus, Phil!” Junior threw his head back in disgust. “The Old Man lost it, I knew it. I always knew he couldn’t tell up from down when it came to you Phil. You’re an idle fucking loser, but he forgave you everything. Well, little brother, if this fucking hick town Judge gets any of our money it’s coming out of your share.”

Freeman wanted to snap Junior’s neck, but he remained still and pushed his trembling hands against the table top to stop them from shaking. Philip smiled at his older brother and casually lifted his hand in a fist before popping up his middle finger. “Yeah? Fuck you Junior, I don’t think it works that way, right Billy?”

The lawyer regretted the brothers were already making things difficult. “All monies will be paid from Mr. Thurwell’s fortune. The best you could do to Philip is to reduce his share. You can’t insist he pays anyone else’s.” Philip gave Junior a victorious glance and Junior returned the look with one of pure malice. Before he could erupt again, Larry MacLean interrupted. “I’m not buying it Judge, I don’t believe you’ve told us everything, not at all, and I want to hear more about it. But for now, let’s finish our introductions before this family feud gets out of control.”

MacLean nodded at the French girl, the last of them to make her introduction. The irony of using her to defuse tension would not be lost on him a few minutes later. Camille admired how Larry had naturally taken charge, and thought he was attractive, for an older man. She offered him a sly smile that made him look twice.

She saw everyone waiting expectantly and paused dramatically and reached for her cigarettes. “Certainment.” She lit her cigarette and waved a hand in front of her face to dispel the first bloom of smoke. “My name is Camille Jolivet. I was born in Paris and came to America three years ago to meet my father for the first time.”

She paused and saw Bethany’s posture stiffen. “Monsieur Thurwell was mon pere, my father. I did not know this until three years ago, but there is no doubt. I am his daughter, his famille.” She leaned back and pulled luxuriously on her cigarette as she watched MacLean, who turned ashen.

“That’s not true, you’re a liar. William, stop this woman, I won’t have my father’s reputation attacked by every whore in the room.” Bethany gave Bird a pleading look mixed with fear. William took a deep breath and smelled the pungent cigarette as its smoke wafted over him.

He tried to hold Bethany’s pleading gaze as he broke her heart for the second time in as many days. “I’m afraid it’s true, Beth. Camille Jolivet is your father’s daughter, your half-sister. We have DNA confirmation and your father admitted to an affair with Camille’s mother. He didn’t tell you because he didn’t know how.”

Bethany turned white and she uttered a single sob before hiding her face behind her hands. Junior sat in silence. He was shocked by the unexpected news that his father had sired another daughter. He was instantly trapped by his own insistence that the family deserved a larger share than the others. He had not expected the family to grow in number.

Philip stared at Camille and felt ill. He had decided to seduce the French girl after she had smiled across the dining room at breakfast with a look he now realized he had badly misinterpreted. MacLean was the first to recover. “How is it that you only found out about Johnston, your father, so recently?”

Camille relaxed now the secret had been revealed, and she was careful to find the right tone. She related her tale to the group, how her mother had kept her father’s identity a close secret until she lay on her deathbed. How she had come to America in search of the only remaining family she had, and how she had been welcomed by her father. She told of her devastation that she had lost him so soon after finding him. She embellished the story with well-timed tears, and told of her yearning to meet her sister, but that their father had forbidden it.

Camille looked at Bethany and twisted the knife. “Dear sister, let us share our grief, we both loved him so much.” She stood, aware of everyone’s eyes on her and walked to Bethany. Camille planted a light kiss on her sister’s cheeks, then went to Philip and Junior in turn and repeated the gesture. She stood behind Junior’s chair, and looked over the group, aware of her dramatic pose with her head defiantly tossed back. She finished her cigarette, dropped the butt into Junior’s water glass, walked back to her seat and pretended to wipe a tear from her eye with a tissue.

Freddie Hagood exhaled loudly. “William, I think we need a break to let people collect their thoughts. Is there any objection?” The lawyer, who had known what might happen at the revelation but was shocked anyway, readily called a recess.

Chapter Seven

F
reddie had suggested the break but stayed in the conference room and waited until the only person left sitting at the table was Winnie Tremethick. He asked if he could join her and while surprised he would want to sit with her, she agreed. Winnie was happy to see a friendly face, she had been nervous since she arrived at the mansion, but was upset now the business had taken an unpleasant turn.

Freddie offered her a coffee, which she accepted. She would have preferred tea, but the tepid brew she had received at breakfast had tasted so awful, she was afraid to ask for another. “I’m Freddie, and I was a rival of Mr. Thurwell.” His reintroduction irritated Winnie, as if she wouldn’t remember his name only minutes after learning it. She wondered what he wanted and wished he’d get to the point.

“You must realize if Johnston Thurwell wanted you to be here, there has to be a connection. He was too thorough to make a mistake about who you are.” She looked into Freddie’s eyes, which had seemed friendly at first, but she could tell there was an edge under his polite civility. She sipped her coffee. It was hot and better than the tea.

“I understand you’d expect he’d have invited me for a reason. I don’t blame you, or Mr. Bird, for thinking so. However, I am quite sure I never met poor Mr. Thurwell. I think I’d remember a rich American showing up in Cornwall, but it never happened. I never even met an American before I arrived here.”

He smiled and leaned forward, but it was only for show, in case anyone was watching. “I don’t know what secret you think you’re protecting, but I’ll find it, lady. So just tell me what it is and I’ll help you get out of here.” She shuddered, his menacing tone frightened her. Winnie pushed back in her chair to try and escape Freddie’s closeness. “I don’t know him, I never did. And if he knew me, I don’t know how.”

Winnie was afraid of this imposing man, but she was tougher than she looked, a long life on a struggling farm had provided depths of courage she rarely explored. As Hagood leaned in again to whisper, she loudly exclaimed. “I think you’d better go Mr. Hagood, I’ve nothing else to tell you.”

He stopped, surprised by her outburst and looked around quickly. A few people were within earshot and turned to see what was happening. Dennis Elliot was one of the witnesses. For once he had found a moment to himself while Janice had gone to fawn over Bethany’s grief. Dennis walked to the old lady and cast a suspicious eye over Hagood before he took the seat on the other side of the old woman and put a hand gently on hers. “Is there trouble here ma’am?”

Winnie turned to look at Dennis and saw a man who might have looked intimidating had he not possessed a defeated air. “There’s no problem. Mr. Hagood was just leaving. And call me Winnie, dear. If you go around calling me ma’am I’m apt to go thinking the Queen’s standing behind me.”

She smiled with a twinkle in her sharp blue eyes and saw Dennis relax. He looked at Freddie again, aware something had happened, but Hagood was already walking away. Winnie was glad to be free of him, she would do her best to avoid being alone with Freddie Hagood, just to be safe.

Winnie and Dennis exchanged small talk. He told of his long service as Mr. Thurwell’s manservant, and how he felt like an impostor to be included in a group he would usually be serving. Winnie nodded. She did not belong in the middle of a family battle over the fortune of a man she had never met. She felt Dennis’s attention shift and his eyes flicked nervously over her shoulder.

Winnie knew the cause of his sudden nervousness. She was old but far from blind, so she was not surprised when she heard Janice’s voice behind her. Dennis stood and introduced his wife to Winnie, who quickly reminded him that they had already met. The two women exchanged polite smiles before Janice looked at her husband and demanded why he was wasting time in idle chat with a confused old woman when he should be talking to William Bird or Junior, working to ensure they would be treated right.

She shook her head with a loud sigh as he offered no reply and grabbed his arm and marched toward the door. He looked like a schoolboy who’d been caught stealing candy from a dime store, and he gave Winnie a baleful smile as he was led from the room.

$

Bethany, Philip and Junior retreated to a corner of the library for a private discussion. Bethany was still in shock, her face was white as parchment. Philip was stunned, but Junior was furious. “That stupid philandering old man, I can’t believe he fell for that French slut’s bullshit.” His voice quivered with anger, and his hands shook with fury. “What are we going to do? It looks as if Bird is supporting her claim to a blood relationship.”

“He’s probably fucking her, and they’ll split the cash she gets when this is over.” Philip said it in a low voice. He too was shaken by Camille’s revelation, but had fewer doubts his father might have sired an illegitimate child. Junior looked at his brother, surprised. “You might be right Phil, something’s wrong with this whole scenario. Why would the Old Man die without calling for us, why set up this fucking circus?”

Bethany uttered an exasperated sigh. “Stop cussing, Junior. We’re not going to swear our way out of this mess.” He looked at his sister with open disdain. “So, Daddy’s favorite girl has decided to get involved. Welcome to the party Beth, it’s about time you woke up. We’re getting royally screwed here, sister. If you don’t get your pretty little head out of your ass, you might find your half-sister is shopping with your inheritance by the end of the week.”

Bethany stared at her brother, stung by his blunt cruelty. She wanted to slap him, but something in his words rang true. She looked at Philip who just watched them fight, something he had enjoyed before he was even old enough to understand their words.

“What do you think, Phil? Do you have any wisdom to share other than that William might be sleeping with this French girl?”

Philip considered for a moment, sat forward in his chair and the others copied his movement until they sat in a tight circle, their heads almost touching. “All I know is, none of this adds up. I could understand if the Old Man gave up on me, or Junior, but not you Beth, you were his favorite. What did you ever do to him?”

Her lips trembled at their mention of her close relationship to their father. Bethany’s eyes filled with tears, but she fought them back. She drew on the flicker of anger inside her gut for strength. “We have to take control. If we don’t take it, someone like Freddie Hagood will. And then, dear brothers, we’ll be well and truly fucked.”

She looked at Junior with a faint smile. “We need 75% to get a motion passed. There are twelve people in the room, so we need nine votes. We can count on Larry to join us, it won’t cost much, he doesn’t need any of father’s money.” Junior and Philip listened closely as Bethany continued. “I’m sure we can get the Elliot’s support. Dennis will surely back our claim and Janice will too, for a fair price. That gives us six votes. So, who else can we recruit?”

She discounted Hagood and the French girl and shuddered as she forced herself to consider an awful choice. “We could get the whore. It would be cheaper to bring her in than have her working against us, don’t you agree?” The brothers shrugged, they had less of a problem with Betty than their sister did. They agreed Betty could be number seven. Junior nodded as their plan came together. “Seven is a good number, but we’re still two short.”

Bethany’s mind cleared as the act of dealing with their problem pushed her grief from being foremost in her thoughts. “With seven people voting our way, there’s a good chance we can persuade two more to get on board, if we play this right. We should try to get rid of someone and see who joins us. I say we give that old woman what she wants and send her home. No one knows her, she’ll go quietly.”

Junior interrupted. “So when we get the group down to eleven people we’ll only need eight for the next vote, assuming that Bird rounds down.” He sounded excited, and Bethany picked up the thought. “That means we only need to convince one more person to join us, and we can get rid of another person. But who should we target next?”

Philip had anticipated her question. “Freddie Hagood or the Judge should be next. Either is capable of organizing against us, so we need to remove them fast. Also, it will be a lot easier to deal with Frenchie once we have all the power.”

Bethany turned to her younger brother in surprise. “Phil, you’re as scheming as we are.”

“I’m not stupid Beth, just uneducated.” He smiled his most charming smile and she felt a wave of affection wash over her. She could become extremely frustrated with Philip, but then he’d do something unexpected and flash that smile, and she’d fall helplessly in love with him again. Junior broke into their tender moment. “Okay. I like the plan, now let’s figure out how we’re going to get it done.” Their heads lowered into a tight circle again as they quietly plotted.

$

Larry MacLean chatted with Caroline Smith in the lobby. She was a woman he admired for her achievements, but could not bring himself to like. Smith was full of barely concealed excitement at the exposure of Thurwell’s illegitimate daughter and of the Georgia Judge’s questionable intervention in a case against Philip. Her gossipy exuberance was unattractive and surprised MacLean, who had never seen her so animated. He realized she was thinking only in terms of her share of the money.

MacLean looked for a way out of the conversation and saw his chance as Betty Freah arrived beside him. She brushed his arm lightly and smiled as he greeted her. Caroline glowered, she was unhappy at the interruption. MacLean made a grand show of introducing Betty and the two women greeted each other politely but did not exchange handshakes. Betty looked up at MacLean. “How are you, Larry? It must be hard for you, losing Johnston so unexpectedly.”

She had always liked Larry, it was he who had introduced her to JT and therefore, he’d been in large part responsible for her change in fortunes. He’d been a terrific lover too. She’d enjoyed their times together before JT insisted she drop her other clients. Thurwell’s demand had upset Larry, and he’d argued with his friend about his possessiveness. Betty had provided a subtle solution by persuading a friend of hers to cross paths with Larry at a party, after which he didn’t seem to mind losing Betty quite as much. MacLean had learned about her scheme not long after and laughed at her skillful manipulation of his wandering eye.

He smiled at her genuine concern for his feelings. He knew she had developed a bond with his friend, even if she was strict about keeping it businesslike. Caroline was angry at the interruption. “What do you care what Larry feels? It’s a bit early to be looking for a new client, don’t you think?”

The disgust in her voice was palpable, and Larry turned sharply, but Betty put her hand on his arm and shook her head. “Let it go, Larry, she’s not worth it.”

Betty turned away from Smith and looked at MacLean, who was torn between honoring her request and defending her anyway. Caroline made any decision irrelevant when she turned on her heel and left, muttering about the ’cheap whore’ as she strode away. Betty winked. “That went well.” Larry laughed, took her by the arm, and they went in search of fresh coffee.

$

Judge Freeman sat alone in a corner of the dining room, chewing on a bran muffin as he mentally reviewed what had been said during the session. He hoped he’d avoided implicating himself in anything illegal. Though he knew his actions must appear suspicious, he hadn’t given any facts that could be used to condemn him. He considered how a campaign manager might spin the story if it leaked, and thought with luck he might still have a realistic shot at a political career.

He became aware of being observed and found Freddie Hagood watching him with interest. Freeman, like many others at the mansion, had been unable to fathom why Thurwell would invite his lifelong rival to share in his fortune.

Freeman raised an eyebrow that Hagood took as an invitation to join him. “Macon’s a nice part of the world, Judge.” Hagood spoke slowly, his manner was relaxed. “I’ve heard your name before. Some influential people think you have a pretty good shot at getting into the Governor’s office.”

Freddie smiled, but Freeman’s guard was up, his courtroom instincts warned him there was danger close. “I thank you for saying so, Mr. Hagood. I certainly hope to serve the people of Georgia in whatever capacity they see fit to bestow upon me.” He smiled his 1000-watt smile, the one he had flashed on the college football field after a win or on the courthouse steps after a successful case. Hagood stirred his coffee, carefully placed his spoon on a folded linen napkin and watched for a moment as a dark stain grew on the pristine white material.

“I think we both know your political career is already over, even before it’s started. You’re dirty. You didn’t admit it in there, but you said enough for a man with my resources to find the truth. You took money from Thurwell to let his son go. I’m not buying it was a simple vehicle accident either. I’ll find out your story, you can be sure of that.”

Freeman’s mind whirled. He had recognized Freddie Hagood when he first saw him arrive. Everyone knew HBN, his business network. Information was the man’s stock-in-trade and Freeman knew Hagood could make good on his threat. He had given enough away for a man with Hagood’s resources and determination to uncover everything.

In Macon, at William Bird’s behest, Freeman had manipulated a young prosecutor until he dropped the charges against Philip Thurwell. But there had still been a body in the morgue. The community held a public funeral and later there had been some media fuss about an unexpected but large life insurance payout. While Freeman was sure it would be hard to track the money back to Thurwell, he had no doubt a man like Hagood could do it.

Freeman’s large frame appeared to deflate in front of Hagood’s eyes. “I suppose a man like you could find something unsavory about anyone he chose.”

Hagood smiled, an expression that reminded the Judge of a snake eyeing its next meal. The businessman sipped his coffee to give Freeman more time to squirm. “Sometimes you need to dig deeper than others, but there is always something in a man’s past that they’d rather keep secret.” Freeman felt the full weight of Hagood’s accusing stare and could not hold his gaze.

BOOK: The Philanthropist's Danse
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