by David Lender
And so on, six of them in all. Rudiger watched them go through two rounds of rehearsals, Katie playing the parts of herself and Stillman, and then motioning to each of the actors in turn for them to discuss their areas of specialty as lawyers. There was one point where David overacted and botched up some of the legal terms. Katie talked right over him, getting it right, and Rudiger felt like she would’ve even pulled it off in the meetings.
The next morning, after the makeup man visited their room, Katie assembled the entire team in the lobby coffee shop for last-minute questions. Katie then walked them all upstairs and stopped in front of the conference room door to let Rudiger open it and go inside first. He took a deep breath, smiled at Katie and said, “Break a leg.”
She smirked at him. “What a ham. Let’s get on with it.”
Rudiger opened the door and was surprised to see only Ducasse and Stillman sitting at the far end of the conference table.
What the—?
He smiled and pretended he didn’t sense anything wrong. “Philippe, Rupert, great to see you,” he said and strode into the room. Both of their faces were like stone. Rudiger reached the end of the table and extended his hand. Neither man stood up or reacted in any way.
Katie said, “Where’s the rest of your team?”
Ducasse said, “Sent home yesterday evening.” He said to Rudiger, “The only reason Rupert and I didn’t leave with them is that I wanted to say to your face that you’re a liar and a fraud. In fact, I’m now actually beginning to wonder who you are, if John Rudiger is a fiction perhaps as big as the scam you seem to have gone to such great lengths to perpetrate upon us.”
Rudiger felt like his stomach was falling down to his feet, but he forced himself not to show any reaction. Don’t say anything. Just listen.
Ducasse continued. “Shortly after we arrived in Morocco, one of our junior attorneys, Stein, called your local law firm with a question about BNP Paribas’ financing commitment. No answer, voicemail and no reply. So he called the number on the BNP Paribas banker’s business card. Same result. So then he called the Paris office of BNP Paribas and asked to speak directly to the banker, Levasser. When Stein reminded Levasser they’d met a week earlier on the LHIW Propylene deal in Morocco, and that he had a question on BNP Paribas’ financing commitment for the deal, there was stunned silence on the other end of the line. Levasser told Stein he’d never been to Morocco, never heard of LHIW Propylene and there was no financing commitment. So we took it upon ourselves to go visit your local law firm’s offices here in Oujda. The business cards your lawyers handed us”—and Ducasse now looked at the actors lined up behind Katie—“listed Suite 2720 in an office tower in downtown Oujda, a building which, it turns out, only has 17 floors.”
Rudiger knew they were cooked, didn’t need to hear any more, but Ducasse continued.
“Even though I knew what the answer would be, I nonetheless sent one of my young associates in an SUV into the desert to view the construction site. Nothing was happening.” Now Ducasse stood up. “Quite an elaborate con. You must think I’m an idiot. I discussed the matter with Rupert, who assures me we would have a valid course of legal action against you for our expenses, but that the cost of pursuing the suit would likely make it inadvisable to file one. I’m unsure whether or not I agree; I’ll wait until I return to Geneva to decide.” He pushed his chair back. Stillman stood. “But I can assure you, if you ever show yourself in Geneva again, I’ll have you arrested.”
Ducasse and Stillman walked out of the conference room.
Rudiger turned and looked at Katie, his mouth dry, his legs feeling like he was standing in quicksand.
“Now what?” she said.
“I can’t think of much of anything else to do except go home and lick our wounds.”
On the plane flight back to Cape Verde, Katie reached across the aisle and took Rudiger’s hand. She felt like she might cry.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
“For everything.”
“Everything? This wasn’t your fault. We had some bad luck. If it wasn’t for Charlie Holden’s detour into the UK, I think we would have pulled this off.”
“If I hadn’t swiped your $30 million in the first place, if I hadn’t let myself get duped by Ducasse, and if I hadn’t used that phony Angela Conklin passport to fly to Cape Verde, none of this would’ve happened.”
Rudiger softened his features. Katie’s eyes were swimming; she knew she was now on the verge of tears. Rudiger said, “Why do women always look backward?” He paused, squeezed her hand. “We are where we are. Let’s just deal with it.”
That made it worse. He was like he was back in Cape Verde when he first learned about the $30 million. So reasonable, so even. “Why don’t you just tell me I’m an idiot?”
He stood up, stepped over to her and kissed her, a long, tender one. He pulled back and said, “Because you aren’t.” He sat back down.
Katie waited a moment, then said, “So what do we do now?”
“Normally I’d say we regroup, then figure out what comes next. But in this case, I don’t see any way forward with Ducasse.”
“So it’s kiss the $30 million good-bye?”
Rudiger smiled. “Well, unless he’s gonna single you out to screw you out of the fund’s returns he gives everybody else, bogus or not, you’re gonna do quite well.”
Katie bucked up, even smiled. “So that means in three or four years I should have your money back.”
“And then some,” Rudiger said, “if he raises a Fund VI.”
He said nothing more, but Katie didn’t believe he didn’t see any way forward, certain that he was still turning it over in his mind, looking for an angle. She felt better after that, not giving up herself, either.
When they got back to the hotel at Cape Verde, Daddy was full of questions. Katie waved Rudiger off and took Daddy into the living room of his suite. She talked to him for at least half an hour, Katie explaining to Daddy and Daddy reacting, sometimes looking like he couldn’t believe it, sometimes nodding. Afterward, Katie came back in and said to Rudiger, “He’s upset. He feels like maybe he could’ve helped if we’d brought him along.”
Rudiger shrugged. “I hope you told him that wouldn’t have made any difference.”
They had a quiet dinner that evening, barbecued spareribs ordered in from the restaurant downstairs next to the pool, because Daddy had been seduced over the past few days by the aroma.
“I’m sorry, guys, but I’m disappointed,” Daddy said, putting down a few bones from his rack onto his plate.
“Really?” Rudiger said. “I think it’s good stuff.”
“Yes, Daddy, great stuff,” Katie said, certain Rudiger had said it to humor Daddy, not too impressed herself but willing to say anything to make sure Daddy was having a good time.
“No,” Daddy said. “Not the ribs. I’m talking about Ducasse. I can’t believe you two are ready to give up on getting the money back.”
Katie looked at Rudiger, who smiled back at her. Did he have an idea? She said, “We haven’t given up.” She set her jaw, straightened her spine, feeling like she was the Brooklyn girl with her attitude back. “We just need to figure out a way to still nail the little creep.”
“That’s my Katie,” Daddy said.
The next morning Rudiger got up shortly after dawn, his usual time, and got dressed for a run on the beach. Katie stirred. “You coming?” he said. She climbed out of bed, Rudiger admiring her body.
“Quit leering.”
“I’m admiring. You’re beautiful.”
She mouthed, “Thank you,” cocked her head and put her hands on her hips, gave him a long look, then walked to the bureau.
Rudiger heard Styles whimpering in Frank’s adjoining room, figured he needed to go out. He opened the door and walked inside, saw Styles sitting nex
t to Frank’s wheelchair and looking up at him, Frank asleep in front of the TV again.
Rudiger walked in, heard the oxygen concentrator running, the air hissing in the tubes as he approached Frank. He shut off the TV, then placed his hand on Frank’s shoulder. Styles whimpered again. Rudiger got a flash of alarm.
“Oh no.”
Frank’s shoulder was rigid. Rudiger felt his neck. It was like cold marble, and he knew even before he didn’t find a pulse that Frank was gone. Tears welled in his eyes. “Oh no, no, no.” Styles whimpered again and lay down. “I know, buddy, I know,” Rudiger said to him. He closed his eyes and felt a sag in his chest, his legs go weak.
He turned at a sound and saw Katie in the doorway, her mouth open, her eyes showing disbelief.
Rudiger said, “Katie, I’m sorry. So, so sorry,” his voice hoarse with emotion.
Katie collapsed to her knees and put her hands to her face. “No!” she said. “No!” She fell to the floor and started sobbing.
Rudiger crossed the floor to her and knelt in front of her. He lifted her and took her in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he said again, feeling like he’d been stabbed in the heart.
Katie was sitting on the sofa in her and Rudiger’s room, Daddy not visible through the adjoining doorway, but she could still see Styles lying on the floor in front of his wheelchair. Styles wouldn’t move, even when Rudiger put his leash on him to try and take him out for a walk. Ultimately, Rudiger unhooked the leash and left him alone.
Rudiger was now sitting next to her on the sofa, his arm around her, doing his best to console her, but there was nothing he or anyone could do to stop the tears that came in waves, then turned into sobs.
They waited. It had been an hour since Rudiger called the front desk to ask them to inform the coroner, then called Dr. Dewanji, Daddy’s main doctor. He was the first to arrive. Rudiger showed him in. Dr. Dewanji was a wiry Indian man with sympathetic eyes and a soft voice. He walked to Katie and clasped both of her hands in his.
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Katie.”
Katie could barely lift her head to look up at him.
“Your father was a true gentleman. I was proud to have been able to treat him.” He glanced at Rudiger, who sat back down and put his arm around Katie again. Then Dr. Dewanji walked into Daddy’s room. He stayed there for a few minutes, then returned and sat in the chair adjacent to Katie.
Dr. Dewanji said in his lilting tones, “I believe I can tell you some things that may be of comfort to you, if you are able to listen.”
Katie raised her head to look at him.
He said, “I remember telling you when you first arrived that your father’s condition had multiple complications, including his lungs, heart, liver and kidneys. That everything was failing. That you did the right thing by bringing him to this climate and giving him the peace of mind to know he was well cared for. The combination of physical care and mental and emotional serenity you provided him allowed him to flourish beyond what I would have ever expected of a man in the advanced stages of his disease. Rest assured he did not pass in a violent manner. I recall telling you this end for him was possible, and vastly preferable to the lingering dissipation normally associated with his primary condition, emphysema.”
Katie tried to smile at the kindness in Dr. Dewanji’s voice, but could only manage a nod of her head.
“I believe he simply went to sleep. No pain. And now he is with your other loved ones.”
Katie’s tears flowed freely again, but there was a sweetness in it, that she could believe Daddy was with Mom and Mike now. She looked up at Dr. Dewanji.
He reached out and squeezed her hand.
There was another knock at the door. Dr. Dewanji looked at Rudiger, then stood up. “I’ll take care of this,” he said, walked to the door and opened it. It appeared to be the coroner. Behind the man in the doorway, Katie saw two other men in the hallway with a gurney. Dr. Dewanji spoke in low tones to the first man for a moment, then closed the door and walked into Daddy’s room. He snapped his fingers at Styles, who got up and trotted out. Dr. Dewanji shut the adjoining door behind him. Styles climbed up on the sofa next to Katie and lay down with his head on her lap with a grunt, then a long exhale. After about 15 minutes Dr. Dewanji came back into their room and sat down in the chair adjacent to Katie again. He said in his soft voice, “They’re prepared to take your father away now. Would you like to spend a few minutes alone with him before they do?”
Katie nodded, slid out from underneath Styles and started to get up, then slumped back into the sofa. Rudiger helped her up and walked her toward Daddy’s room. He left her at the doorway and she walked in herself, stood next to Daddy and looked down into his face for a long time. Finally she said, “I love you, Daddy.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Good-bye.”
On the third day after Frank died, Rudiger, Katie and Styles sat in the backseat of Xavier’s Range Rover, driving over Katie’s long driveway from the highway to her house. She had a cardboard box on her lap with Frank’s ashes in it.
Rudiger glanced over at her, wondering if she was really okay.
Give her some space.
The previous day Katie had been a rock through the simple service at the funeral parlor. Flora and her husband, Carlos, and another half dozen employees of the hotel attended, people who’d gotten to know Frank during their yearlong stay there prior to moving into the house. Katie had insisted on a priest to say prayers, and Flora had arranged for the priest of her church to come in. Afterward, Rudiger, Katie and Styles rode with Frank’s casket to the crematorium.
Now, when Xavier pulled his Range Rover under the carport, Katie walked onto the deck, put the box with Frank’s ashes down in the center of the table. Styles ran in circles, wagging his tail, Rudiger unsure if he was looking for a ball or for Frank. Katie walked to the sliding doors, unlocked them and went inside. Rudiger just stood there, looking at the sea, listening, smelling the air, remembering Frank.
A few minutes later Katie walked back out with a tray of drinks. She put them down in front of three of the chairs, her rum and soda with lime, Rudiger’s gin and tonic, and a Jameson on the rocks for Frank. Rudiger extended his hand, she took it and he pulled her to him, hugged her. He said, “One last drink. That’s appropriate.” They sat down, Styles lying down on the deck between them, his head resting on his front paws, ears pinned back.
Katie looked down at him and said, “It’s as if he knows to be respectful.”
“I think he does.”
Katie picked up her drink and raised it. Rudiger picked up his, waiting.
Katie said, “A toast to Frank Dolan. A simple man, a loving father . . .”
“A good friend,” Rudiger said. He clinked his glass against Katie’s, then Frank’s. Katie reached over and touched her glass to Frank’s as well.
They both sipped, Rudiger watching Katie. She was holding up, done crying.
They drank in silence for about 15 minutes, Rudiger giving Katie as much time as she needed.
Then she turned to him and said, “You ready?”
“It’s not up to me. Are you ready?”
Katie nodded.
“Are you sure you want to do it here?”
She smiled at him. “He was happy here. There wasn’t much left for him back in Cobble Hill before we left. Yes, he still had friends in the fire department, but as time went on, fewer and fewer of them dropped by to see him. Mostly, he stayed in the house and watched TV.”
Rudiger stayed silent, observing her.
“But here, well, mostly he watched TV,” she said, smiled, then reached out and took his hand. “But after you arrived, he was a different person. He hadn’t had a good friend, somebody he could talk to, laugh with and be himself with, for five or ten years, I don’t even know how long. You gave him a life again.” She squeezed Rudiger’s hand and he saw tears welling in h
er eyes. “And the whole LHIW Propylene deal? He was like a different person. He was a simple man. For him to have taken it upon himself to charter a jet to get back to Cape Verde from Morocco is remarkable.” She laughed, tears flowing down her cheeks. “But to have chartered a jet and flown to Paris to pick us up? That’s not something I could ever have imagined him doing. You brought that out of him, Rudiger.” She stood up and kissed him. He felt her tears dripping onto his face. She leaned back, looked him in the eye and said, “He loved you.”
Rudiger felt his throat thicken. “Yeah,” he tried to say, but it came out as a whisper. He cleared his throat, said, “I think he did.”
Katie smiled. “I know he did.”
She stood back up, took the box in her hands and opened it. There was a seal with a number on it wrapped around the plastic bag inside. Katie pulled it off and looked at it as if it were a sacred relic, then put it in her pocket. She picked up the box, held it against her breast and reached for Rudiger’s hand. They stepped off the deck onto the sand, Styles following them.
Katie said, “The wind is blowing back toward the house from the ocean. We’ll scatter him from the shore.”
CHAPTER 9
Rudiger decided not to push Katie on the subject of Ducasse until she was ready. A week after Frank passed away, they were walking back to the hotel after a run on the beach when Katie turned to him and said, “I’d feel like we’d be letting Daddy down if we didn’t figure out a way to go after Ducasse.”
That’s the Katie Dolan I know.
After a shower and as they started breakfast at the table on the balcony, Rudiger said to her, “We should brainstorm about how to get to Ducasse. I think we can forget about the LHIW Propylene deal, but—”
“What does LHIW stand for, anyhow?”
Rudiger said, “Let’s Hope It Works.”
Katie laughed.
“It was your father’s idea. He said not to tell you what it meant, just wait until you asked, that you’d get a kick out of it.”
