Craig Hickman - The Insiders

“Europe. It’s better that you don’t know the details for now. He and his family are safe, but under constant surveillance.”

“And the memoirs that were supposed to be here?” Wilson asked, looking down at the empty safety-deposit box.

“Your father thought it would be better if the world believed they were stolen by Wayland Tate,” Felix said as he pulled a sealed envelope from his suit pocket and handed it to Wilson. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

When Felix was gone, Wilson opened the envelope. It was a letter from his father:

My Dearest Son,

I am writing this letter six weeks after the first one you should have received from Daniel Redd. Felix Zubriggen is the bearer of this letter because he’s independent of all my other relationships and I trust him. My worst suspicions have now been confirmed. Our partners have contracted for our assassinations, mine and Carter’s, so I had no choice but to develop a drastic counter plan. Carter wanted nothing to do with it, but I insisted. Otherwise, we would have both died. My plan was to keep Carter alive to finish what we started. Forgive me son. I know that all of this has brought nothing but tragedy and turmoil to your life.

I am the one who removed the memoirs and placed them in a safe repository after I received a series of anonymous phone calls. The first call informed me that Wayland Tate had contracted for my death and Carter’s, with contingency backup contracts. We used our own sources to validate the information. Unfortunately, eliminating Tate would not have solved our problem or removed the contracts.

In the second call, I received a detailed description of our entire disclosure plan and a harrowing explanation of how and why it would never bring about the change we envisioned. The caller’s arguments convinced me that he understood the world’s power structure as well or better than we did. He and his group have known about us for years. The third call summarized the content of your great-grandfather’s memoirs and informed me of their location. I have no idea how they obtained their information. Sadly, I began questioning every relationship in my life, including my relationships with Daniel and Carter.

That’s when I removed the memoirs and began writing this letter for Felix to deliver if and when you came to the bank. Felix is a Swiss banker with a long history of selling privacy. He’s been my agent and banker for years. Carter knows nothing about the contents of this letter or the anonymous phone calls, and Felix will not inform Carter of this delivery unless you request it. Use him as necessary, but only after you’ve paid for your privacy.

In the fourth and final call, the caller invited me to join his group, claiming that working together was the only way to permanently transform capitalism and launch a new era of economic freedom. He gave me instructions for making contact. A painting commissioned by his group is set to be unveiled in London at the end of summer, as a symbolic representation of the struggle between freedom and oppression. I don’t know the name of the artist, but the painting is privately referred to as “The Beholders”. I was to make contact with the artist, who would give me further information. The last thing the caller told me was that his group had found a way to make capitalism more accessible and actionable, without requiring government action or acquiescence from the wealthy elite and their shadow government. I don’t know anything more than what I’ve told you. However, my instinct and judgment tell me that an affiliation with this anonymous caller and his group could prove advantageous, even redemptive. If a parallel path to reform can be pursued simultaneously with changes emerging from our disclosure, it could help ensure a lasting transformation of capitalism.

Wilson, I know your heart and I trust your inherent goodness, but I also know that you’ll never find peace with yourself until you see this through to a final resolution. I am deeply saddened that I won’t be attending the art exhibit in London with you. Learn everything you can and then incorporate it into your own plans. I have always known that my obsession would be yours to finish, which is why I kept you from it for as long as I could. I want you to know how very proud of you I am. You are singularly prepared to make this world a better place. Protect yourself and the ones you love with the best people you can find, and then replicate it three times. Trust in yourself. Until we meet again.

Your Loving Father

P.S. The memoirs are located in a floor safe buried in concrete and steel beneath the hearthstone of the river rock fireplace at our White Horse chalet. There is a switch located beneath a single stone at the apex of the gable that enables the hearthstone to slide back revealing the safe. Simply remove the apex stone cradled in cement to turn the switch. The primary alphanumeric combination to the safe is “HWF1952cmwr”. The secondary combination is your birth date followed sequentially by the first and last letters of your favorite childhood hero.

Wilson remained in the private room alone with his thoughts for almost an hour. A few minutes before noon, he found Felix in his office. “What does Carter plan to do?” Wilson asked.

“Nothing for now. The powers that be seem satisfied that Carter is sufficiently content with his disclosure. They plan to let the reforms take place, and then turn them to their advantage,” Felix said. “But Carter is always working on contingency plans. Has been ever since I’ve known him. He said you should be patient and enjoy your life with Emily.”

Wilson studied the bank chairman. So these are the final pieces to the puzzle, he thought. At least for now. “Tell Carter that Emily and I knew he wasn’t dead and that we’re no longer surprised by his and my father’s incessant contingency planning. But if I don’t hear from him, through you, at least once a month, I’ll be knocking at your door,” Wilson said.

“I’ll pass your requests along, Mr. Fielder,” Felix said.

“What are you going to tell the FBI when they arrive?”

“The box was last opened by Wayland Tate, the day he met with you at the Bostonian Club. I have documents showing his signature on an admission form from that date and on the safety-deposit lease agreement, along with your father’s and Carter Emerson’s.”

“Okay, Mr. Zubriggen. You can talk to the FBI when they arrive. I’ll call Agent Kohl and tell her about Tate,” Wilson said, reconciled to the messy aftermath of his father’s and Carter’s choices. “You know how to contact me. I’m going home to plan a wedding.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Mr. Fielder. And I will be in touch.”

“Call me Wilson, I’ll call you Felix. And tell Carter I have some advice for him. The real lie is that hierarchies can be incorruptible. Tell him to relax and enjoy his sanctuary. He always wanted to live in Europe.”

“Until we meet again, Wilson,” Felix said, nodding his head and extending his hand.

They shook hands vigorously, “Until then, Felix.”

Back at Brattle House, sitting next to each other on the sofa at the foot of the guestroom bed, Wilson and Emily read and reread his father’s final letter with a mix of sympathy and wonderment.

“What are we going to do?” Emily asked.

“First we’re going to get married, before you get cold feet again,” he said with a broad grin. “Then I think we should spend some time in Sun Valley and London.”

Emily returned the grin. “You’re so predictable my dear, but I’m fully committed to helping you expand your horizons.”

They wrapped their arms around each other, quickly slipping into shared bliss-for a little while.