Morning, Noon & Night

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Morning, Noon & Night Page 24

by Sidney Sheldon


  Lieutenant Kennedy said, “Give me the gun, Judge.”

  Tyler froze for an instant, then he forced a smile. “Of course. I was just trying to scare this woman into getting out of here. She’s a fraud, you know.” He put the gun in the detective’s outstretched hand. “She tried to claim part of the Stanford estate. Well, I wasn’t about to let her get away with it. So I…”

  “It’s over, Judge,” Steve said.

  “What are you talking about? You said Woody was responsible for…”

  “Woody wasn’t up to planning anything as clever as this, and Kendall was already very successful. So I started checking up on you. Dmitri Kaminsky was killed in Australia, but the Australian police found your telephone number in his pocket. You used him to murder your father. You’re the one who brought in Margo Posner and then insisted she was an impostor to throw suspicion off yourself. You’re the one who insisted on the DNA test and arranged to have the body removed. And you’re the one who put in the phony call to Timmons. You hired Margo Posner to impersonate Julia, then had her committed to a psychiatric ward.”

  Tyler looked around the room, and when he spoke, his voice was dangerously calm. “And a phone number on a dead man is your evidence? I can’t believe this! You set up your pitiful little trap based on that? You don’t have a shred of proof. My telephone number was in Dmitri’s pocket because I thought my father might be in danger. I told Dmitri to be careful. Obviously, he wasn’t careful enough. Whoever killed my father probably killed Dmitri. That’s who the police should be looking for. I called Timmons because I wanted him to find out the truth. Someone impersonated him. I have no idea who. And unless you can find him and tie him to me, you have nothing. As far as Margo Posner is concerned, I really believed that she was our sister. When she suddenly went crazy, going on a buying spree and threatening to kill us all, I persuaded her to go to Chicago. Then I arranged to have her picked up and committed. I wanted to keep all this out of the press to protect the family.”

  Julia said, “But you came here to kill me.”

  Tyler shook his head. “I had no intention of killing you. You’re an impostor. I just wanted to scare you away.”

  “You’re lying.”

  He turned to the others. “There’s something else you might consider. It’s possible that none of the family is involved. It could be some insider who’s manipulating this, someone who put in an impostor and planned to convince the family she was genuine and then split a share of the estate with her. That didn’t occur to any of you, did it?”

  He turned to Simon Fitzgerald. “I’m going to sue you both for slander, and I’m going to take away everything you’ve got. These are my witnesses. Before I’m through with you, you’ll wish you had never heard of me. I control billions, and I’m going to use them to destroy you.” He looked at Steve. “I promise you that your last act as a lawyer will be the reading of the Stanford will. Now, unless you want to charge me with carrying an unlicensed weapon, I’ll be leaving.”

  The group looked at one another uncertainly.

  “No? Well, good evening, then.”

  They watched helplessly as he walked out the door.

  Lieutenant Kennedy was the first one to find his voice. “My God!” he said. “Do you believe that?”

  “He’s bluffing,” Steve said slowly. “But we can’t prove it. He’s right. We need proof. I thought he would crack, but I underestimated him.”

  Simon Fitzgerald spoke. “It looks like our little plan backfired. Without Dmitri Kaminsky or the testimony of the Posner woman, we have nothing but suspicions.”

  “What about the threat on my life?” Julia protested.

  Steve said, “You heard what he said. He was just trying to scare you because he thought you were an impostor.”

  “He wasn’t just trying to scare me,” Julia said. “He intended to kill me.”

  “I know. But there isn’t a thing we can do. Dickens had it right: ‘The law is a ass…’ We’re right back where we started.”

  Fitzgerald frowned. “It’s worse than that, Steve. Tyler meant what he said about suing us. Unless we can prove our charges, we’re in trouble.”

  When the others had left, Julia said to Steve, “I’m so sorry about all this. I feel responsible in a way. If I hadn’t come…”

  “Don’t be silly,” Steve said.

  “But he said he’s going to ruin you. Can he do that?”

  Steve shrugged. “We’ll have to see.”

  Julia hesitated. “Steve, I’d like to help you.”

  He looked at her, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’m going to have a lot of money. I’d like to give you enough so you can—”

  He put his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you, Julia. I can’t take your money. I’ll be fine.”

  “But…”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  She shuddered. “He’s an evil man.”

  “It was very brave of you to do what you did.”

  “You said there was no way to get him, so I thought if you sent him here, that could be the way to trap him.”

  “It looks as though we’re the ones who fell into the trap, doesn’t it?”

  That night, Julia lay in her bed, thinking about Steve and wondering how she could protect him. I shouldn’t have come, she thought, but if I hadn’t come, I wouldn’t have met him.

  In the next room, Steve lay in bed, thinking about Julia. It was frustrating to think that she was lying in her bed with only a thin wall between them. What am I talking about? That wall is a billion dollars thick.

  Tyler was in an exuberant mood. On the way home, he thought about what had just taken place, and how he had outwitted them. They’re pygmies trying to fell a giant, he thought. And he had no idea that that was once his father’s thought.

  When Tyler reached Rose Hill, Clark greeted him. “Good evening, Judge Tyler. I hope you’re well this evening.”

  “Never better, Clark. Never better.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “Yes. I think I’d like a glass of champagne.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  It was a celebration, the celebration of his victory. Tomorrow I’ll be worth over two billion dollars. He said the phrase lovingly over and over. “Two billion dollars…two billion dollars…”He decided to call Lee.

  This time Lee recognized his voice immediately.

  “Tyler! How are you?” His voice was warm.

  “Fine, Lee.”

  “I’ve been waiting to hear from you.”

  Tyler felt a little thrill. “Have you? How would you like to come to Boston tomorrow?”

  “Sure…but what for?”

  “For the reading of the will. I’m going to inherit over two billion dollars.”

  “Two…that’s fantastic!”

  “I want you here at my side. We’re going to pick out that yacht together.”

  “Oh, Tyler! That sounds wonderful!”

  “Then you’ll come?”

  “Of course, I will.”

  When Lee replaced the receiver, he sat there saying lovingly over and over, “Two billion dollars…two billion dollars…”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  The day before the reading of the will, Kendall and Woody were seated in Steve’s office.

  “I don’t understand why we’re here,” Woody said. “The reading is supposed to be tomorrow.”

  “There’s someone I want you to meet,” Steve told them.

  “Who?”

  “Your sister.”

  They were both staring at him. “We’ve already met her,” Kendall said.

  Steve pressed a button on the intercom. “Would you ask her to come in, please?”

  Kendall and Woody looked at each other, puzzled.

  The door opened, and Julia Stanford walked into the office.

  Steve stood up. “This is your sister, Julia.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Woody exploded. “What are
you trying to pull?”

  “Let me explain,” Steve said quietly. He spoke for fifteen minutes, and finished by saying, “Perry Winger confirms that her DNA matches your father’s.”

  When Steve was through, Woody said, “Tyler! I can’t believe it!”

  “Believe it.”

  “I don’t understand. The other woman’s fingerprints prove that she is Julia,” Woody said. “I still have the fingerprint card.”

  Steve felt his pulse pounding. “You do?”

  “Yeah. I kept it as kind of a joke.”

  “I want you to do me a favor,” Steve said.

  At ten o’clock the next morning, a large group was gathered in the conference room of Renquist, Renquist & Fitzgerald. Simon Fitzgerald sat at the head of a table. In the room were Kendall, Tyler, Woody, Steve, and Julia. In addition, there were several strangers present.

  Fitzgerald introduced two of them. “This is William Parker and Patrick Evans. They’re with the law firms that represent Stanford Enterprises. They’ve brought with them the financial report on the company. I’ll discuss the will first, then they can take over the meeting.”

  “Let’s get on with it,” Tyler said impatiently. He was sitting apart from the others. I’m not only going to get the money, but I’m going to destroy you bastards.

  Simon Fitzgerald nodded. “Very well.”

  In front of Fitzgerald was a large file marked HARRY STANFORD—LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT. “I’m going to give each of you a copy of the will so it won’t be necessary to wade through all the technicalities. I’ve already told you that Harry Stanford’s children will equally inherit the estate.”

  Julia glanced over at Steve, a look of bemusement on her face.

  I’m glad for her, Steve thought. Even though it puts her way out of my reach.

  Simon Fitzgerald was going on. “There are a dozen or so bequests, but they’re all minor.”

  Tyler was thinking, Lee will be here this afternoon. I want to be at the airport to meet him.

  “As you were told earlier, Stanford Enterprises has assets of approximately six billion dollars.” Fitzgerald nodded toward William Parker. “I’ll let Mr. Parker take it from here.”

  William Parker opened a briefcase and spread some papers out on the conference table. “As Mr. Fitzgerald said, there are six billion dollars in assets. However…” There was a pregnant pause. He looked around the room. “Stanford Enterprises is in debt in excess of fifteen billion dollars.”

  Woody was on his feet. “What the hell are you saying?”

  Tyler’s face turned ashen. “Is this some kind of macabre joke?”

  “It has to be!” Kendall said hoarsely.

  Mr. Parker turned to one of the men in the room. “Mr. Leonard Redding is with the Securities and Exchange Commission. I’ll let him explain.”

  Redding nodded. “For the last two years, Harry Stanford was convinced that interest rates were going to fall. In the past, he had made millions by betting on that. When interest rates started to rise, he was still convinced they would drop again, and he kept leveraging his bets. He did massive borrowing to buy long-term bonds, but the interest rates went up and his borrowing costs jumped, while the value of the bonds tumbled. The banks were willing to do business with him because of his reputation and his vast fortune, but when he tried to recoup his losses by starting to invest in high-risk securities, they began to get worried. He made a series of disastrous investments. Some of the money he borrowed was pledged by securities he had bought with borrowed money as collateral for further borrowing.”

  “In other words,” Patrick Evans interjected, “he was pyramiding his debts, operating illegally.”

  “That is correct. Unfortunately for him, interest rates underwent one of the steepest climbs in financial history. He had to keep borrowing money to cover the money he had already borrowed. It was a vicious circle.”

  They sat there, hanging on Redding’s every word.

  “Your father gave his personal guarantee to the company’s pension plan and illegally used that money to buy more stock. When the banks began to question what he was doing, he set up decoy companies and provided false records of solvency and fake sales of his properties to drive up the value of his paper. He was committing fraud. In the end, he was counting on a consortium of banks to bail him out of trouble. They refused. When they told the Securities and Exchange Commission what was happening, Interpol was brought into the picture.”

  Redding indicated the man seated next to him. “This is Inspector Patou, with the French Sûreté. Inspector, would you explain the rest of it, please?”

  Inspector Patou spoke English with a slight French accent. “At the request of Interpol, we traced Harry Stanford to St.-Paul-de-Vence, and I sent three detectives there to follow him. He managed to elude them. Interpol had put out a green code to all police departments that Harry Stanford was under suspicion and should be watched. If they had known the extent of his crimes, they would have circulated a red code, or top priority, and we would have apprehended him.”

  Woody was in a state of shock. “That’s why he left us his estate. Because there was nothing in it!”

  William Parker said, “You’re right about that. You were all in your father’s will because the banks refused to go along with him and he knew that, in essence, he was leaving you nothing. But he spoke to René Gautier at Crédit Lyonnais, who promised to help him. The moment Harry Stanford thought that he was solvent again, he planned to change his will to cut you out of it.”

  “But what about the yacht, and the plane, and the houses?” Kendall asked.

  “I’m sorry,” Parker said. “Everything will be sold to pay off part of the debt.”

  Tyler sat there, numb. It was a nightmare beyond imagining. He was no longer Tyler Stanford, Multibillionaire. He was merely a judge.

  Tyler got up to leave, shaken. “I…I don’t know what to say. If there’s nothing else…” He had to get to the airport quickly to meet Lee and try to explain what had happened.

  Steve spoke up. “There is something else.”

  He turned. “Yes?”

  Steve nodded to a man standing at the door. The door opened, and Hal Baker walked in. “Hi, Judge.”

  The breakthrough had come when Woody told Steve that he had the fingerprint card.

  “I’d like to see it,” Steve told him.

  Woody had been puzzled. “Why? It just has the woman’s two sets of fingerprints on it, and they matched. We all checked it.”

  “But the man who called himself Frank Timmons took the fingerprints, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then if he touched the card, his fingerprints will be on it.”

  Steve’s hunch had proved to be right. Hal Baker’s prints were all over the card, and it had taken less than thirty minutes for the computers to reveal his identity. Steve had telephoned the district attorney in Chicago. A warrant was issued, and two detectives had appeared at Hal Baker’s house.

  He was in the yard playing catch with Billy.

  “Mr. Baker?”

  “Yes.”

  The detectives showed their badges. “The district attorney would like to talk to you.”

  “No. I can’t.” He was indignant.

  “May I ask why?” one of the detectives asked.

  “You can see why, can’t you? I’m playing ball with my son!”

  The district attorney had read the transcript of Hal Baker’s trial. He looked at the man seated in front of him and said, “I understand you’re a family man.”

  “That’s right,” Hal Baker said proudly. “That’s what this country is all about. If every family could—”

  “Mr. Baker.” He leaned forward. “You’ve been working with Judge Stanford.”

  “I don’t know any Judge Stanford.”

  “Let me refresh your memory. He put you on parole. He used you to impersonate a private detective named Frank Timmons, and we have reason to believe he also asked you to kill a Julia Stanf
ord.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “What I’m talking about is a sentence of ten to twenty years. I’m going to push for the twenty.”

  Hal Baker turned pale. “You can’t do that! Why, my wife and kids would…”

  “Exactly. On the other hand,” the district attorney said, “if you’re willing to turn state’s evidence, I’m prepared to arrange for you to get off very lightly.”

  Hal Baker was beginning to perspire. “What…what do I have to do?”

  “Talk to me…”

  Now, in the conference room of Renquist, Renquist & Fitzgerald, Hal Baker looked at Tyler, and said, “How are you, Judge?”

  Woody looked up and exclaimed, “Hey! It’s Frank Timmons!”

  Steve said to Tyler, “This is the man you ordered to break into our offices to get you a copy of your father’s will, to dig up your father’s body, and to kill Julia Stanford.”

  It took a moment for Tyler to find his voice. “You’re crazy! He’s a convicted felon. No one is going to take his word against mine!”

  “No one has to take his word,” Steve said. “Have you seen this man before?”

  “Of course. He was tried in my court.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “His name is…” Tyler saw the trap. “I mean…he probably has a lot of aliases.”

  “When you tried him in your courtroom, his name was Hal Baker.”

  “That…that’s right.”

  “But when he came to Boston, you introduced him as Frank Timmons.”

  Tyler was floundering. “Well, I…I…”

  “You had him released into your custody, and you used him to try to prove that Margo Posner was the real Julia.”

  “No! I had nothing to do with that. I never met that woman until she showed up here.”

  Steve turned to Lieutenant Kennedy. “Did you get that, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes.”

  Steve turned back to Tyler. “We checked on Margo Posner. She was also tried in your courtroom and released into your custody. The district attorney in Chicago issued a search warrant this morning for your safe-deposit box. He called a little while ago to tell me that they found a document giving you Julia Stanford’s share of your father’s estate. The document was signed five days before the supposed Julia Stanford arrived in Boston.”

 

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