Day 147
Writing Exercise
…
We sat across the table, with six feet of air between us, staring each other down, like the old days when we tried outstaring each other.
Usually I lose, but not today.
There was nothing at stake here but pride, and over the last thirty-two years, I had mine trodden on, beaten out of me, and have people proclaim in no uncertain terms it would be my downfall.
My downfall had been the cruelty dealt me by an unforgiving and monstrous father, and equally as monstrous sister, every bit her father.
The lawyer at the end of the table didn’t want to be there.
I didn’t want to be here; only someone had to stop the evil witch from destroying everything my mother had created for us, and the world around us.
“You’re pathetic.” It was the tenth time she’d said it.
“You are a monster.” It was the first time I used it, but it was water off a duck’s back.
She would claim she’d heard worse, and I would believe her. I was not the only one who thought she had gone down the wrong path.
“Jesus, Henry, is that the best you can do?”
“No. But you don’t bring out the big guns until you have to.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just sign the papers and consign the building and contents to the historical society. It was mother’s wish and we will be adhering to it.”
I had a brief moment, back in her room, on her deathbed, holding my hand and telling me that the house should not under any circumstances go to anyone but the historical society. That had been in her will, but our father had contested it and won. Now, he was consigning it to a bunch of country club charlatans who wanted a hotel, spa, and golf course.
I’d worked out a deal with the historical society, and as beneficiaries, all we had to do was sign it over. Harriet wanted to sell it, take her half, and go on a first-class tour of the world, among other things.
“She was as pathetic as you are. She had no idea what the worth of the place was, and how it would help us.”
“It won’t help you. Whatever you get, you’ll have spent in a year. Do the right thing. It’ll be the only thing left of Mother to remember her.”
“She wasn’t a mother to me.”
“You weren’t a daughter to her.”
She stood up suddenly, and the chair fell backwards with a crash. “Then I’ll see you in court.”
“You go out that door, I will, but not in the way you would imagine.” I stood too. “Please. I dare you.”
A dare would do the job. It was time for the big guns.
She crossed to the door and had her hand on the handle. The lawyer was looking out the window. He knew what was coming and didn’t want to be a witness.
“What have you got up your sleeve?”
I looked up my sleeve. “An arm. Why do you ask?”
She came back and sat down. Then her manner completely changed. Yes, I’d seen that before. My father was very good at playing the game; he might not know what was going on, but in the end, he’d wheedle it out of you.
Harriet was no different. Except this time, I was immune. It was my mother’s affairs, and she was watching over me.
“What have you got up your sleeve, young Henry?” The same tone and manner as my father, in fact, it was like looking at and listening to him.
“Clue: 2022.”
“You were a bigger nincampoop then than you are now. So?”
Clue: Fry.”
“What? Fish and chips. Have you gone completely mad?”
“Clue: $20,000,000.”
A flicker. Fry was the accountant she employed to syphon twenty million dollars out of the business account, ostensibly to invest in the Fry and Walter Capital Investment Fund in 2022, as part of a tax dodge. Instead, it went into an offshore account in her name, while the paperwork covered the tracks. Then in 2024, we received advice that the Fry and Walter Capital Investment Fund had crashed, and the investors were left out of pocket. Convenient for her. Hardly a blip on the horizon for the business.
Except it looks like she’s spent it all, and is now back for more. Except, I had a visit the week before from some very nasty people telling me if I didn’t pay up her debts, to the tune of ten million and rising at the rate of one million a month, then someone was going to get hurt.
No smart ass reply. Yet.
“Last clue: Benny. I’m sure you are aware of who Benny is, grating voice, several prominent scars, no manners whatsoever.”
“When?” A whisper.
“Last week. Came to my house. Scared the living shit out of Willie. What happened to the twenty million you stole three years ago? No one can spend twenty million in two years.”
“I have a lifestyle and image to maintain.”
“Tell me how that can happen after Benny and his friend cut you up into twenty pieces and drop them into the sewer?”
“Is that what he threatened?”
“No, that’s what I told him I would do to you when I saw you next. What the hell do you think he was going to say?”
“Just sell the place, give me my share, and I’m in the wind. You won’t see me again.”
“No. You’ll sign the papers to hand this place over to the historical society, I will pay the debt, and you will surrender yourself to the police.”
“Hell will freeze over first. I got away with that free and clear. No one knows.”
“I do.”
“And I’ll make sure no one else does. I thought you might have done something like this. Rhonda told me you were acting strange and asking all these stupid questions. Well, I took out some insurance, just in case.”
I looked over at the lawyer. “You can leave now. You don’t want to be here until after we’ve sorted this out. By the side entrance.”
He didn’t need to be asked twice.
“Now,” I said, “You can try to do your worst.”
She picked up her cell phone and speed-dialled a number. Nothing happened.
“There’s no service in this room.”
She got up and went over to the door and opened it. A second later, she slammed it shut and turned around.
“What have you done?”
“I told Benny we were settling your debt today, one way or another. I had your boyfriend and his mates arrested, attempting to kidnap one of my children. That’s low even for you, Harriet. You’ve been under surveillance for the last three months, but not by me. You seem to have some terrible enemies on both sides of the law. By the way, Dad knew you took the money. He thought it showed initiative. So did I actually.”
“I’m happy to go to the police and tell them you were the one who did it. My name is not on any of the paperwork.”
“No. That was a deft touch. Fry took a little convincing before he told us what you did. Any more surprises up your sleeve, Harriet?”
Yes, one. A gun. In her handbag. A gun that she pointed at me.
“So,” she said, “This is how this is going to go. We are going to sign the resort deal, and I’m going to leave with it, and you’re not going to stop me.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll do what I’ve always done, and sign for you. You have the easiest signature to forge, Henry.”
The last piece of the puzzle, and the confession I needed. “But if you can’t take it, then I know I can’t either.”
“What?”
“It’s what my mother told my father just before he killed her. I was there, by the way, by accident. I had no idea what she meant, but apparently he did. The thing is, I killed him, and he died before she did, outlasting him by a day and a half. And now you have to die.”
It was hardly a sound, just a plop that could not be heard outside the room. Behind me, the shadow materialised into a human shape. My mother. She had not been killed, just badly wounded. She was not going to suddenly reappear now Harriet was gone; that was never her plan. The monsters were dead, and she could retire to a shack in the Bahamas. The business was mine.
I went over to Harriet, now a crumpled heap on the floor. Dead. It was not my sister; she had been murdered and substituted three years ago. We knew it wasn’t her because my sister would not have stolen twenty million, but that aside, Harriet was her father’s daughter, but with a little more compassion.
A nod to Benson, my mother’s bodyguard, who was also hiding in the room, and he took Harriet away, leaving the room empty except for the papers on the desk. I signed the historical society document, first as Harriet and then as myself, and called the lawyer back in. He checked the signatures and then countersigned as a witness.
Then I went out and handed Benny a check for his debt, with the threat that if I saw him again, it would be the last time he saw me. Benson saw them out. Given all that had happened in the last three months, Mother and I needed a holiday.
In a little shack in the Bahamas.
…
© Charles Heath 2025
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 