Thomas Perry - Dance for the Dead

Jane sat and stared at the orderly rows of thick volumes on the shelves in front of her. They had killed Mona, but the best she could do was to go into court as Colleen Mahoney, lie and say she saw them, then watch twenty witnesses parade to the stand and say she was wrong. The ones who had been in the car had certainly broken Dennis's neck with a choke-hold after the crash, but she hadn't seen that either.

If the police hadn't found a connection between any of them and the Timothy Phillips case, then they were hired hands. No doubt the police and the F.B.I, were quietly looking for Colleen Mahoney, but there was no reason to let them find her. She was finished.

She looked through the newspapers for more articles about Timothy Phillips. Finally she found one that was only a day old.

HOFFEN-BAYNE NOT SUSPECTED OF WRONGDOING, D.A. SAYS

A spokesman for the District Attorney's office issued a statement today denying rumors that Hoffen-Bayne Financial, Inc. is under suspicion of attempting to defraud kidnapped heir Timothy Phillips of the multimillion-dollar estate of his late grandmother.

"The rumor has no merit," said Deputy D.A. Kyle Ambrose. "All you have to do is read the conditions of the trust. If Mr. Phillips were deceased, Hoffen-Bayne did not stand to benefit. All the money was to be donated to charities. I'm convinced that they filed to have the child declared dead because it was the proper procedure under the trust instructions, and consistent with the behavior of a good corporate citizen. There's very little benefit to society from having vast fortunes tied up in trusts with no beneficiaries. The intent of the grandmother was to provide for her grandson, not to build a perpetually-growing pyramid of unused money." Ambrose noted that Hoffen-Bayne had reason to be delighted with the news that Timothy Phillips had been found. "If the estate went to charities, the company would have lost large annual fees as trustee and executor, which now legally must continue until the boy reaches eighteen, and could continue as long as he wishes."

Jane read the article twice. Dennis had been certain that the men who were after Timmy had been hired by Hoffen-Bayne. Dennis was a lawyer, and there had been something in the documents that had convinced him that Hoffen-Bayne had a rational reason for doing it. But the Los Angeles D.A.'s office was full of lawyers, criminal lawyers at that. Were they just convinced that companies like Hoffen-Bayne weren't in the business of killing their clients?

She tried to look at it in a logical way. Hoffen-Bayne had chosen this time to have Timmy declared dead. If they were capable of murder, they could have waited until they had actually killed him, left his body where it would be found, and let the coroner do the paperwork. Or they could have waited and filed the papers at the best possible time for them. No, she had to assume that they had already waited, and that this was the perfect time. There was nothing external to make them do it now. There were ten more years until Timmy could take control of the money and fire them, ten more years of the "large annual fee" the D.A. had mentioned.

Jane stood up, walked out to the librarian's counter, and caught Amy Folliger's eye. "Can I make a couple of copies on the machine?"

"Sure," said Amy. "A dime a copy. But I'm afraid you'll have to sign this sheet," she added apologetically. "It relieves the library of liability if you violate a copyright."

Jane glanced at the papers on the clipboard. The first page was a summary of the copyright law of 1978. She signed the second page and handed it back.

"Sorry," said Amy. "Did you ever wonder how we ever got to this point?"

"What point?"

Amy's big eyes widened behind the silver-framed glasses that Jane had never seen her wear except on duty at the library. "Where everything is lawyers. Of course they get to write the laws. Did you ever hear of a lawyer missing the chance to give himself perpetual fees?"

"Once or twice," said Jane. "Maybe if we all behave ourselves for a hundred years, they'll go away." She copied the articles, then walked to the newspaper rack and carefully replaced the stack of L.A. Times.

Jane put the copies into her purse and walked out of the library. As she approached her car, she composed the note that she would write to Karen the lawyer to explain what was bothering her, but it didn't feel right. What was bothering her was that she wanted to know now.

Jane passed the telephone booth beside the building and then walked back to it. She dialed the number and said to the secretary who answered, "This is Jane White-field. She knows me. Tell her I'm going to fax something to her."

"Would you like an appointment for a consultation or - "

"No, thanks," she said. "She can call me." Jane hung up and walked up Main Street to the little stationery store that Dick Herman had run for the last few years since his father retired. The growing collection of signs in the window announced there were post office boxes, copiers, and a fax service now.

When she had sent the clippings Jane drove home, walked inside, and heard the telephone ringing. She closed the door and hurried to the phone. Maybe Carey wasn't with the great diagnostician. She snatched up the receiver just as her answering machine started. "You have reached - " said the recording, and clicked off. "Hello?"

"Hi, Jane." It was Karen's voice. The last time Jane had heard it Karen had wondered aloud - in a purely speculative way - whether there was any way to protect a witness who had just saved a client of hers. "I got your message. But what is it?"

"Did you read the articles?" said Jane.

"The second woman - I take it that was you?"

"You don't want to know."

"It's okay. Attorney-client privilege."

"I'm not a client."

"If you're in trouble you are."

"I'm not," said Jane. "I just need advice. How are they stealing the money?"

"I don't have the slightest idea," said Karen. "If it were obvious, I certainly wouldn't be the only one who could figure it out. Without reading the documents that established the trust I'd only be guessing anyway."

"All right," said Jane. "Let me fish, then. What's the statute of limitations on stealing money from a trust fund?"

"That's breach of trust as a fiduciary. Here it's four years. I'd have to look up California."

"Suppose they robbed Timmy the day the old lady died. They have Timmy declared dead and it's over? Nobody can do anything?"

"No," said Karen. "He's a minor, right? The statute time doesn't start running until he's eighteen, when the money goes to him. If he doesn't spot it after four years, they're in the clear, as long as they didn't do anything worse."

"What if he were dead?"

"Then the next heir gets the money - presumably some adult - and the clock starts again. Who is it?"

Jane was silent for a minute. "The charities," she said. "That's it, isn't it?"

"That's what?"

"That's the answer. That's why they wanted Timmy dead - legally or really. So that the heir isn't a person."

"I'm not sure I follow that."

"Timmy's grandmother set up this trust fund. It was supposed to go to her son. The son died. The next beneficiary was her infant grandson. That's Timmy. There weren't any other relatives, or if there were, Grandma wasn't interested. The D.A. mentioned it in that article. The money goes to charities."

"It can't be that. Charities aren't generally run by stupid people. They receive bequests all the time, and their counsel are very sophisticated about making sure they get what the benefactor wanted them to. The charity is a corporation, and that's like a person in law. The charity would have four years before the statute time ran. The lawyers would go over the will and the trust papers the day they heard about it."