The Trust

by Ronald H. Balson

  Catherine returned to the kitchen with Ben and set him in his high chair. She still had tears in her eyes. She leaned over and gave me a kiss.

  “All that happened sixteen years ago, Cat, and it’s ancient history to me now. It was rough for a while, but I’m over it. I saw Annie for the first time last month at the funeral. There was no love, no anger, no resentment. No feelings at all. I was uncomfortable talking to her. Actually, I felt sorry for her. Apparently she’s never moved on. But that’s it. You can believe me.”

  “There was never a question whether I would believe you, Liam. I brought it up out of curiosity. In the entire time we’ve been together, I’ve never felt the least bit threatened and now I fear that I’ve become the prying wife. Shame on me.”

  “Why are you crying?”

  “Partly because I’m ashamed of myself, partly because it’s a sad story. You know me, I always cry at sad romantic stories. I love you and it made me sad. Is that silly?”

  I had to smile. She’s that kind of girl. “Seriously, Cat, I harbor no regrets. It was another lifetime and the one I have now fits me perfectly.”

  “The subject is closed, Liam. I’m not worried. Deirdre told me that Annie stayed close to your uncle throughout the years. I guess you didn’t know that.”

  “No, there was no way for me to know. I didn’t speak to anyone here for sixteen years. But it doesn’t matter. I knew Uncle Fergus and Annie were close before I left, and Deirdre said they stayed close afterward.”

  “Do you suppose Uncle Fergus told Annie things he didn’t tell Deirdre? Do you suppose that Annie has pieces of information that would help you in the investigation?”

  “I do think that’s possible. Uncle Fergus wouldn’t want to alarm Deirdre. He would have confided in Annie. I’ve been considering the awkward likelihood that I would have to sit down with Annie and find out what she knows.”

  Catherine stood and gave me a kiss. “Well, don’t worry about me. I have no uncertainties where you are concerned.” She smiled and started mixing cereal for Ben.

  Sitting there thinking about Annie, I remembered that she gave me her phone number at Eamon’s funeral. “We should catch up sometime,” she said. Was that just a meaningless platitude or did she really have important things to tell me? Did she mean to tell me that Fergus shared ideas with her that I should know about? I looked at the paper. Funny. Her number hadn’t changed since 1999. I took out my cell phone, stared at it, thought about it, took a deep breath and dialed.

  “Hello, this is Annie.” Déjà vu.

  “Hi, Annie.”

  “Hi, Liam. How is your family? I was shocked when I heard about the fire and the attack on your wife and baby. Are they okay?”

  “Catherine suffered pretty serious burns on her leg, but she’s on the mend. Thanks for asking. They’re here with me in Antrim. I couldn’t leave them at home.”

  “I know.”

  “Really? How do you know?”

  She uttered a soft chuckle. “You’re not the only one with spies. I’m still in touch with Deirdre and Janie. Actually, Janie and I are best friends.”

  “I’ve been told you stayed close to the family and that’s really the main reason I’m bothering you. I was wondering if Uncle Fergus might have shared some of his thoughts and fears with you in the months before he died. We’re reaching for straws, Annie, and any bit of information might help.”

  “I visited with Fergus quite often after you left. He was a great comfort for me when my father died. But over the past few months, he did seem distracted and some of the things he said were strange, out of context. They really had no meaning for me. I can’t be sure if I remember them all. I don’t know how much help I’d be.”

  “Every little bit helps, Annie. Do you think you can spare me an hour or so?”

  “‘Spare me an hour’? That’s a rather impersonal way of putting it, don’t you think?”

  “I’m sorry it came out impersonally. I didn’t intend it that way. If you’re too uncomfortable, maybe we can just talk on the phone.”

  “I’m not uncomfortable. It’s only uncomfortable talking about whether I’m uncomfortable.” Then she started to laugh. I did too. “I’m not teaching Friday afternoon and I work in Antrim. I could stop by at around two if that’s convenient.”

  I said, “Sure. Great. See you then,” before it occurred to me that she meant to stop by the house and Catherine would be here. Now that could be uncomfortable. Oh well.

  * * *

  THE NEXT MORNING I went out for a short five-miler. My first full day back and it was going to be busy. I needed to go to Belfast General and visit Uncle Robert. I also wanted to touch base with McLaughlin and see if we couldn’t move the investigation forward. I had returned to protect my family. I intended to flush out the murderer.

  On my way back to the house, out of habit, I stopped at the mailbox. And there it was—a blank white envelope. Inside was the Walker calling card and on the back, in printed letters, it read, “WELCOME BACK.” I had been in Northern Ireland for less than twenty-four hours and now I was marked for death. Who knew I was returning? Clearly not Walker, or any vengeful unionist. It certainly strengthened the view that the killer was intimately connected to the family. Maybe it wouldn’t be as difficult as I thought to flush out the killer. Apparently he intended to come to me. Given the heightened state of apprehension in Fortress Deirdre, I decided not to say anything about the photo to anyone at the house.

  * * *

  WHEN I ARRIVED AT the hospital, Uncle Robert was on the surgical floor with a uniformed officer sitting outside his room. Though he had been through hell, he had a broad smile on his face. He’d survived an attempted murder, but still showed signs of his jovial old self, sitting up in his bed in a chipper mood. He could look death in the face and keep on dancing. That’s my uncle Robert. Such an attitude adjustment was hard for me to fathom, but then I hadn’t lived through thirty years of the Troubles.

  He gave me a strong hug with his right arm. His left arm was tightly bound to his body. “It’s always a grand day when I get to see my nephew,” he said. “I hear you brought your bride and your son along for the ride this time.”

  “That I did and I can’t wait for you to meet them. When will they let you out of this jail?”

  “Tomorrow if I’m a good boy. I’m going out to stay with Deirdre for a while. From what I understand, it’ll be a busy little house.”

  “Busy is an understatement, but there’s round-the-clock protection and lots of good food. In fact, I understand that Aunt Deirdre is planning one of her special Sunday dinners.”

  He nodded and then his face became serious. “I hope everyone will be there. Have you heard from Riley?”

  I shook my head. “No one seems to know where he went. I’m hoping he just wanted to get away for a bit to assess his situation and decide on the best course forward.”

  “I guess you heard that we had a fierce argument a couple of nights before I was shot. He wanted me to guarantee a loan for eighty thousand pounds and put up security. I don’t have that kind of money, or property to secure the loan. He promised me that I would never have to pay anything, that he could raise the money, but I told him I couldn’t risk it. Riley drives around in a BMW, has a fancy house and his kids are in private school. He’s always lived on the edge. Maybe he could raise the money, but I’m on retirement income now and I can’t take the chance. I don’t want to end up in the poorhouse.”

  “I think you made a wise decision.”

  “Liam, he was as angry as I’d ever seen him. For the first time in his life, he cursed at me, and then he stormed out of my apartment. I wish I had the money to help him out, but I don’t. And now I suppose he’s taken off. I hope I wasn’t the cause.”

  I nodded. Uncle Robert looked down at his bandaged arm. “You don’t think he was desperate enough to…” He shook his head in the middle of his sentence. “Shame on myself for thinking something so devilish.”

  “Som
eone hired that sniper, Uncle Robert.”

  “Aye, and it’s a safe bet it’s Thomas Walker, not my nephew Riley. I sure couldn’t guarantee a note if I was dead.”

  I shrugged. “It could be Walker, it could be anyone. That’s why we’re going to keep you safe until this mess is over.”

  The door swung open and I turned to see Conor step into the room. “Hello, Liam. I heard you were coming back.”

  “Did you now? Well, it wasn’t for a holiday jaunt, Conor. I believe you and your lawyer accused me of being irresponsible and scheduled a court hearing to remove me from office. It seems that all your efforts to keep me out of Antrim were counterproductive, weren’t they? I returned to defend myself and finish my job. But let’s not have an argument in Uncle Robert’s hospital room, okay?”

  “I didn’t come here to argue. I came to visit my uncle. I come every day.”

  “That’s right,” Robert said. “Conor’s been grand company. Every day.”

  Conor smiled, an expression I rarely encountered from him. He grabbed a chair, pulled it over to the side of the bed, set it right next to me and stuck out his hand. “Peace, Liam. I’m never going to get rid of you anyway, am I?”

  I took his hand. “That’s right, Conor, no matter how hard you try.”

  “For your information, Liam, I didn’t ask Cooney to file this latest petition. I didn’t want to drag you back here, especially after the fire and the injury to your wife. You had enough to deal with. You should know that all of us were shocked by it. Everyone is now on edge. I know my son had double locks installed on all his doors and I keep a shotgun by my bed.”

  “The petition has your name on it, Conor.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t ask Cooney to do it. It was Riley. The hearing that Cooney set for tomorrow, the petition to remove you, it was all Riley’s doing. I told you, I think you’ve had enough to deal with without suffering attacks from your own family. Riley told Cooney he had to have that stock and asked him to do whatever it takes to get it.”

  “Did you go along with it?”

  Conor shrugged and then nodded. “Look, he’s my brother. I told Cooney I’d go along with it. Riley’s in a bad way. He’s afraid he’s going to jail. Why don’t you give the stock to him? No one cares. It might help to bail him out of his jam.”

  “If that’s what the judge orders, then I’ll give it to him, but I don’t have the authority to do it on my own. Don’t you think that if your father wanted him to have the stock, he would have given it to him while he was still alive? Deirdre told me they had fierce arguments about it.”

  “It’s true, they did. Riley has been trying to get that stock for months. His company’s in big trouble. The regulators believe that his group was running something akin to a Ponzi scheme. They claim that Global had been appropriating client deposits and investing them in risky financial products, hoping for a quick return to cover the misappropriations. Global needs to borrow a lot of money and it needs to pledge all the stock to get that kind of financing. Why not give it him? None of the rest of us would object.”

  “Judge McNulty told me I can’t do it; it violates my fiduciary duty. I’ll do whatever the judge orders, but you can be damn sure I’ll not be intimidated by Riley or you or anyone else.”

  “Hold on, Liam. Who’s intimidating you? We’re having a civil conversation.”

  Now my blood was starting to boil and I was sorry that we were having this argument in front of my uncle. Truth be told, I wouldn’t have come to the hospital if I knew Conor would be here. He was right at the top of possible suspects. And he was the only one who hadn’t received a calling card. I should have calmed down and shut up, but I didn’t.

  “It’s not so goddamn civil when my house is bombed and my wife and son are almost killed, is it?” I snapped. “It’s not so damn civil when you tear up my hotel room and slash my tires. It’s not so civil when you make threatening phone calls to my wife. But, you know what? A reckoning is coming. I’m here and I’m not going away and everyone should know that.”

  Conor furrowed his brows. “Jesus, Liam, I hope to hell you’re not accusing me of any of that shit. I know we had bad words. Even a shoving match or two. But come on, I would never do anything like that. I didn’t break into your hotel room or slash any tires or make any calls to your house and I sure as shit didn’t have anything to do with the fire at your house. How could you think that was me?”

  “Maybe because you said you hated me and wanted me the hell out of Antrim. Maybe because you told me to watch my ass. Maybe because you told me that I didn’t know how much trouble I just bought. Maybe because you want to throw Aunt Deirdre out on the street? Am I talking to the same Conor Taggart?”

  “So I get a little hotheaded. I say some bad shit. Jesus, Liam, you had just knocked me on my ass. But give me a break. My father dies and instead of leaving the family home and his estate to his two sons, like every other Irish father would, he leaves it to a blind trust and appoints an estranged nephew, one who betrayed the whole family twenty years ago, as a trustee. Then he postpones all distributions until we find the unionist fuck who killed him. And even then, he leaves his estate to seven different beneficiaries and gives the farm to his girlfriend, who is a basket case and can’t take care of the farm or herself. I wouldn’t have thrown her on the street, Liam. I would have rented her an apartment. But she should get out of the house. She can’t take care of it and I don’t want to see my father’s farm go to hell. And you can’t see why I’m pissed?”

  “No, I can’t. It’s not your property to begin with, and if he wants to leave it all to Mother Teresa, then that’s his right. And it was his girlfriend, as you put it, who raised you, you prick.”

  Finally Robert had had enough. He raised his right arm like a stop sign. “Hold on, fellows. I let this go on so you could both have your say and get it off your chests. Now that’s enough. Let’s quit this. We’re a family and we can’t be blaming each other. I’ve known Conor since he was a baby, and I would bet my soul he didn’t do anything other than holler a lot and hire that loudmouth lawyer. There’s no doubt in my mind that all this evil is due to the Walkers trying to get their revenge. They killed my two brothers and they tried to kill me. I don’t doubt they bombed your house as well, Liam. That’s their style.”

  I shook my head. “It wasn’t the Walkers. It would take money and connections and intelligence and Thomas Walker is short on all three.”

  “Then who? Who is dealing the Walker death cards?”

  I just shook my head. “Why don’t you ask Conor? He’s the only Taggart that didn’t get one.”

  “Oh really?” Conor said as he got out of his chair. “What’s this?”

  He pulled a folded picture from his back pocket and held it out for me to see. “I found this a week ago.” On the back of the photo was written, “A tisket, a tasket, a Taggart in a casket.”

  “It ain’t Conor,” Robert said. “I’d bet my lot on it.”

  Much as I didn’t like Conor, I was starting to agree with my uncle. Conor had nothing to gain. He didn’t need the money and didn’t have a bone to pick with Fergus or Eamon. The circle of suspects was shrinking, and no clear answer was emerging. The same could not be said for Riley. He had a cause. Desperate people will do desperate things. I hung around the hospital room for a few more minutes, told Conor I’d see him in court tomorrow, said good-bye to Uncle Robert and headed back to Fortress Deirdre.

  THIRTY-ONE

  JUDGE MCNULTY’S COURTROOM WAS practically empty. Other than the two lawyers, only Conor and I were present. Deirdre and Robert were at the house with Catherine and the baby. Janie called to say that Charles was at a golf outing, that neither she nor he would appear, and that anything I decided would be okay with her. Riley was not in attendance, which was puzzling because according to Conor, it was Riley who instructed Cooney to file the petition. If he had decided to go into hiding because of the Global Investment scandal, why would he tell Cooney to set a petition
? Of course, the unarticulated alternative was obvious, and all of us now feared the worst.

  Precisely at eleven, the judge took the bench, looked down at the four of us, shook her head and said, “Well, it seems as though we are going to rehash the same old arguments this morning. Is that right, Mr. Cooney?”

  He bounced to his feet. “Not entirely, Your Honor. Similar issues to be sure, but there are recent changes in circumstances. Liam Taggart, the sole trustee, went back to living in America and although he has returned for this morning’s hearing, he has given clear indications that he will not be residing in Northern Ireland to manage and oversee the estate. That’s why, at this time, we are justified in seeking his removal.”

  “Isn’t Liam Taggart sitting right here in my courtroom?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, but he only returned to defend the petition.”

  “Is he not here on trust business? Can we agree that your petition concerns trust business? Didn’t he return to Antrim because it was necessary to exercise his authority as a trustee, Mr. Cooney?”

  “I’m afraid you miss my point, Your Honor. He’s not here on a day-to-day basis. He only comes in for the sole purpose of defending his appointment. He hasn’t been here the last few weeks and no one has been looking after the property or the best interests of the estate. We are very concerned that the farm and the house are rapidly falling into disrepair. Inevitably, there will be a significant decrease in crop production that will cost the estate substantial money. Deirdre Kerrigan is not capable of managing the property.”

  “Isn’t the farmland leased to a tenant farmer? I mean, you don’t expect Deirdre Kerrigan to drive a tractor, do you?”

  “No, of course not. But someone has to oversee the operation of the farm, the finances, the tenant farmer. We want you to order Ms. Kerrigan to vacate the home. We are requesting that you appoint a new trustee and we have suggested either Riley Taggart or Conor Taggart.”