Стюарт Вудс - Desperate Measures

Stone thought about the dangers of having an armed Donald Trask loose in the city and what should be done about it. He put aside thoughts of his own safety and called Cilla Scott.

“Hello?”

“It’s Stone, where are you?”

“In the rear seat of a black town car I’ve hired for the day, on the way to see Herb Fisher.”

“Good. Do you have a will?”

“Yes.”

“Who are the beneficiaries?”

“My father, a couple of charities, and Donald. Why do you ask?”

“When you arrive at Herb’s office I want you to ask him to draw up a new will for you.”

“Why?”

“Your father is dead, and I presume you don’t want your personal fortune to fall into Donald’s hands in the event of your death.”

“A good point.”

“Don’t leave Herb’s office until the will is properly witnessed and signed.”

“What’s the rush?”

“Your position will be precarious until you have a new will.”

She was silent for a moment. “You don’t mean...”

“I mean that yesterday, after his encounter with Fred, Donald went to a gun shop downtown and bought a pistol, a holster, and ammunition.”

“And you think...”

“At this moment Donald is the only person who stands to benefit from your demise.”

“Oh, my God,” she breathed.

“If you’ll do as I ask, I’ll give you dinner here this evening.”

“How can I resist that. I promise I’ll sign a new will.”

“Keep your car and have it deliver you here. Call, and I’ll open the garage door. Also, bring an overnight bag with a few things. I think it would be best if you stay here for a few nights.”

“Well, that’s subtle,” she said.

“You may have your choice of six guest bedrooms, each with a lock on the door.”

“And why do you think this is a good idea?”

“Does Donald have a key to the Carlyle apartment?”

“Oh. I’d be happy to accept your hospitality.”

“One other thing. Ask Herb to let Donald’s attorney know that you’ve signed a new will excluding him.”

“I will. What time tonight?”

“Six?”

“See you then.” She hung up.

Herb Fisher received Cilla Scott and noted the absence of the knee scooter and the presence of a cane. He got her to a chair. “Are you sure you’re ready for hobbling?”

“I spoke with my doctor and got his permission. The Carlyle supplied the cane.”

Herb sat down. “I’ve heard from Donald’s attorney. Donald is okay with the deal, but he wants ten million dollars.”

“Ha!” Cilla replied.

“It’s pretty much what I expected. I have a counteroffer in mind.”

“And what is that?”

“You are cash-rich at the moment, are you not, what with your inheritance from your father?”

“I am.”

“Offer to buy his share of both properties from him, in cash, immediately.”

“That’s clever,” she said. “What should I pay him?”

“What do you think the properties are worth?”

“The Greenwich estate would probably go for ten million in today’s market — there’s a lot of land. The Carlyle apartment would probably go for four million. Those valuations are from my Realtor.”

“So, we’ll offer him seven million dollars for both properties?”

“That’s good for me. I’ll keep the Greenwich house and sell the apartment. I’ve already started looking for one.”

“All right. Shall I call Terry now?”

“First, there’s another matter,” she said.

“Shoot.”

“My will is among the documents I gave you at our first meeting.”

“I saw it, but I haven’t read it.”

“The beneficiaries are a couple of charities, my father — who’s now dead — and Donald. I don’t want my death to be an advantage to Donald, and I want him to know I’ve changed the will.”

Herb produced a legal pad. “Who would you like the beneficiaries to be?”

“For the moment, just the two charities, and I’d like to sign it before I leave here today.”

Herb pressed a button on his phone. “Come in here, please.”

Herb found the will and, momentarily, a young man appeared. “This is Devon, one of our associates; Devon, Ms. Scott.” He handed him the will. “Ms. Scott needs a new will immediately, with the charities shown in the current will as beneficiaries. Eliminate the two other parties, print out a new will on our boilerplate, and bring it to me soonest.”

“Ten minutes,” Devon said, disappearing with the will.

“What sort of apartment are you looking at?” Herb asked.

“Three bedrooms en suite, living room, dining room, large kitchen, library, office, two maids’ rooms, on Fifth Avenue, twelfth floor, terrace, park views, parking, twelve millionish.”

“Sounds nice. Have you made an offer?”

“Probably today.”

“Give them a six-million-dollar deposit, but insist that the closing must be after the divorce is final, so it won’t get into the mix.”

“All right.”

“Are we ready to call Terry?”

“I am.”

“If he doesn’t bite immediately, can I sweeten the pot by another million dollars?”

“I’d do that to be rid of him immediately.”

Herb made the call.

“Good morning, Herb.”

“Good morning, Terry. I have a revised offer for you.”

“Ready to copy.”

“The offer is the same, but Ms. Scott will buy his share of both properties for seven million dollars cash, payable on final decree.”

“That’s interesting. Can you hold?”

“Sure.” Herb turned to Cilla. “I think Donald is in his office now.”

Terry came back. “Ten million dollars and we have a deal.”

“Eight million, and that’s our absolute, final offer — or we go to trial. Tell him for me, he’s not going to enjoy it.”

“Hold on.” Terry was gone for a good three minutes before he came back. “You have a deal.”

“I’ll send the documents over to you within the hour,” Herb said, “and I’ll expect them to be returned, signed, today.”

“And a down payment?”

“All of it at final decree. Lean on one of your judges, Terry, and we can wrap this up quickly. Oh, and let Mr. Trask know that Ms. Scott has signed a new will that excludes him.”

“I’ll tell him, and I’ll see what I can do about a judge.” Both men hung up.

“Okay,” Herb said, “now we see if Donald signs.”

“Do you think there’s a chance he won’t?”

“I doubt it, but I want to see ink on paper before I’m satisfied.”

Devon knocked on the door and came in with the new will and three secretaries as witnesses. Cilla signed, and they were done.

Herb dictated the terms of the property settlement and sent Devon to print it.

“Are we done?” Cilla asked.

“Wait until we have a copy of the settlement for you to sign.”

She waited, the copy came, and she signed it. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I’m going to go take another look at that apartment.”

“Margot will have the documents you’ll need to sign. You should let your bank know you’ll be writing a big check.”

“Will do.” Cilla hobbled out of Herb’s office.

Herb handed the settlement agreement to Devon. “Hand deliver this to Terry Barnes’s office, wait for it to be signed, and bring it back. Here’s a copy with Ms. Scott’s signature. When you’re sure that Trask has properly executed his copy, hand him this one.”

“I’m on it,” Devon said, departing at a trot.

Cilla was packing a bag at the Carlyle when the phone rang. “Yes?”

“It’s Herb Fisher. I wanted you to know that we’ve received the property settlement with Donald’s signature on it, and we’ve given his attorney the copy with yours. All is now in order.”