Final Venture

8

Frank was buried in a Jewish cemetery in Brookline, where the Cook family had lived when it was still a family. The ceremony was simple. After the Kaddish, mumbled with varying degrees of confidence by those present, the rabbi spoke of Frank in his younger days; I suspected he hadn't set eyes on him in many years. Gil made a low-key eulogy, short, honest and very moving. Only a small group of about twenty or so people were there: family and close friends. I was annoyed to see Mahoney standing at the back, his sharp eyes scanning the gathering. He caught my glance, and the side of his mouth twitched upwards. I looked away. It seemed wrong to me that he should be here at Frank's funeral. I would have thrown him out if I could.

The shiva or visitation, was held at Frank's sister's house a mile or so away. Shiva meant seven, and technically it should have lasted seven days, but Eddie had to get back to his studies, and Frank was at best a lapsed progressive, so the family had decided on the one evening. The mourners were joined by others who came to pass on their condolences to his family. It seemed as if hundreds of people were trying to cram into the modest house. I was amazed at how many people knew and liked Frank.

Frank's sister, Zoe, did her best as a hostess. She was a tall, black-haired woman, with a gentle smile and kindly eyes. She stood smiling and nodding, patting hands and being patted. I extricated her from an earnest man wearing dark glasses and a yarmulke who had been talking to her for several minutes, and brought her a piece of cake.

'Oh, Eddie, thank you so much,' she said. 'I know these people, but half the names don't come. And I don't want to offend them.'

'You're doing very well,' I said, not bothering to correct her.

She smiled. 'It's such a shame about poor Frank. Had you seen much of him lately?'

I wasn't sure whether by calling me Eddie she had just got my name wrong, or whether she thought I was Lisa's brother. So I decided to answer blandly. 'Quite a bit,' I said.

'Aunt Zoe!' Lisa rushed up and gave her aunt a huge hug. The older woman beamed. 'Has Simon been looking after you?'

Aunt Zoe' looked momentarily confused and then glanced towards me apologetically. 'Yes. Yes, he has, dear. How are you?'

'Oh, fine, I suppose.'

And how are your potions?'

'Bubbling away,' she answered. 'Can you believe all these people? I don't recognize most of them.'

'Neither do I. It's extraordinary to have so many of Frank's old friends here at one time,' Zoe said. 'I wish he could be here to see them all.' She looked around the room, somewhat bemused. 'I wonder how long we've got to go. What time is it, dear?'

Lisa glanced down at the watch on her aunt's wrist, before looking at her own. 'Nine thirty.'

Aunt Zoe seemed to sigh.

'It's very good of you to do this,' Lisa said. 'We couldn't possibly fit everyone into our apartment.'

'Oh, don't worry about it,' Aunt Zoe said. 'I'll miss him.'

Zoe was accosted by a childhood friend of Frank's who wanted to talk to her. Luckily, she remembered his name.

'She looks OK,' Lisa said.

'Yes,' I said. 'But she called me Eddie.'

'No, really?'

'And you saw how she had to ask you the time.'

'It's so sad,' Lisa said. 'I remember so clearly playing with her when we were kids. She used to come up to Marsh House and stay with us before she was married. She was so much fun. We used to play all kinds of games exploring the creeks and the marshes. And in a year or two she might not remember any of it.'

'Yes, she will,' I said. 'Don't they always say that old people forget what they had for breakfast, but remember clearly everything that happened decades ago?'

'She's not old, Simon. She's fifty-two. She's ill.'

Aunt Zoe was suffering from the early symptoms of Alzheimer's.

Are you talking about Zoe?' Carl, her husband, had joined us. He was a heavy man with a grey beard, several years older than his wife, who wheezed after any sort of exertion. He was a professor at Northeastern University in some kind of social science.

'Yes,' said Lisa. 'How is she?'

Carl sighed, a heavier wheeze than usual. 'You know she lost her job at the Library?'

'Oh, no,' Lisa said.

'But she's not too bad yet. She forgets names of people, names of books – that was her problem at the Library, and she has some trouble telling the time. But she still remembers me, and she always knows where she is and what day it is. There's a lot further to go. Unless the drug Frank recommended really works.'

'Drug? I didn't know Dad recommended any drug?'

'Yes,' said Carl. 'It's a new drug for Alzheimer's they're testing.'

'Is it neuroxil-5?' Lisa asked. 'Made by a company called BioOne?'

'That's right.'

'Does it work?' I asked.

'It seems to. She's been taking it for seven months now, and it looks like things have stabilized. She doesn't seem to be getting any worse. She had to take something called a Mini-Mental State exam, and they'll check her again in a few months to see how she's doing.'

'That's good news,' I said.

'I've seen some of the other patients at the clinic,' Carl went on. 'It's scary. Some of them have forgotten everything. Who their spouse is, where they live, their children. They get really angry and frustrated. One woman said her husband had lost his smile. I pray that never happens to Zoe.'

He glanced across to where his wife was talking to Frank's old friend, laughing at a shared memory. I, too, hoped that neuroxil-5 worked.

The next morning, Lisa, her mother, brother and I all set off downtown for Frank's lawyer's office to discuss his will. As we waited in the law firm's smart reception area, an uneasy silence settled on us. Up to this moment, none of us had talked about Frank's legacy. Other things had seemed more important. We all knew he was wealthy: it had seemed in bad taste to discuss how wealthy he had been, and how wealthy we were going to be. The thought had probably not even occurred to Lisa. Eddie in particular seemed nervous, his long fingers played with the teaspoon by his cup. Lisa looked calm and Ann had an air of studied indifference.

After five minutes, the lawyer bustled in. His name was Bergey. He was a balding portly man, with a mild face, but intelligent eyes. He introduced himself and led us through to his office.

'Thank you all for coming in to see me today,' he said, having seated everyone round a table. 'I'm speaking to you in my capacity as Mr Cook's executor. Now, ordinarily I would simply mail a letter to the beneficiaries of a will, but in this case, I thought it made sense to take advantage of you all being in the same place at once, and explain the will in person.'

Bergey seemed nervous. Nervous and serious. He had our attention.

'First, Mr Cook held an insurance policy of three hundred thousand dollars, which is to be divided equally between his former wife and two children.' He smiled quickly at us, and cleared his throat. I had the impression we were coming to the tricky bit.

'Second, the will. It's actually very straightforward.' He looked down at the papers in front of him. 'Mr Cook's estate goes in its entirety to Elizabeth Rebecca Cook, his daughter. The value of the estate is difficult to determine at the moment, since so much of it comprises the carried interest in funds managed by Revere Partners. But excluding that, it should be at least four million dollars. As always, it will take a while for the probate process to run its course.'

He looked round the table nervously. We were all watching Eddie.

You could see the anger boiling up inside him. He grasped the teaspoon he had been fiddling with so tightly his knuckles were white. He glanced quickly at all of us, and then addressed Bergey. 'He can't do that can he? He can't leave everything to just one of his children?'

'I'm sorry to say that he can,' the lawyer replied. 'Of course, you will receive the hundred thousand dollars from the life insurance policy'

'Yes, but his estate will be worth millions. I have a right to half of that.'

'I can well understand your concern, Mr Cook. But I drew up your father's will myself. He made it after careful consideration. He was quite clear in his intention, which was to leave his entire estate to his daughter.'

'How could he do that to me?' protested Eddie. 'Did he tell you why he cut me out?'

'No, he didn't do that,' said Bergey.

We all looked away. We knew why Frank had ignored his son in death. It was because his son had ignored him in life.

'You're behind this aren't you?' I continued looking at my hands. 'Yes, you, Simon. You're behind it.'

I glanced up at him. I hadn't realized Eddie was talking to me. 'What?'

'Eddie,' his mother put her hand on his sleeve.

'No, Mom. You should have gotten something too. You stood by him for all those years before he walked out on you. You deserve something from that.'

'I'm perfectly comfortable moneywise,' Ann protested mildly. 'Frank knew that.'

'OK. But what about me? Simon, you stole my inheritance from under my nose.'

'How do you get that idea?'

'I've seen how you worked your way into Dad's favours. Getting the job at Revere, getting Lisa, being the perfect son-in-law. You kissed his ass and it worked!'

Given the deterioration of my relationship with Frank before he died, the irony of this comment made me smile. Big mistake.

'Oh, you just go right ahead and laugh about it. Just go ahead and deposit that fat cheque. It's pretty funny'

'I'm sorry, Eddie,' I said. 'But Frank didn't consult me about his will, I can assure you of that.'

'Yeah, but you and Lisa spent so much time with him,' now he turned on his sister. 'The only reason he cut me out is because I stood by Mom. He should never have left us. I didn't go running to him. That's why I didn't get any of his money'

Lisa looked shocked. She had viewed this meeting as just an administrative item that had to be got through before her family went back to California.

'Eddie, I loved him,' she said. 'I don't want his stupid money.'

'Oh, yeah, you loved him. Never mind Mom. And he…' he jabbed a finger in my direction,'he will love his money.'

I could watch Eddie attacking me with something close to amusement. But not Lisa. 'Eddie…' I growled.

'No, Simon,' Lisa put her hand on mine. 'I really don't care about the money' She turned to the lawyer. 'Mr Bergey. Isn't there any way I can renounce half of it? Give it to Eddie?'

'Hm,' the lawyer frowned. 'You do have the right to renounce all or part of your inheritance, up to nine months after the date of death. Your renunciation would not necessarily direct the funds to your brother, since he is not a named default in the will. So the funds would be disposed under the laws of intestacy, which means…' he paused, thinking it through, 'that since you have no issue, Edward Cook would be the next in line after all.'

'Great,' said Lisa. 'Let's do it.'

Bergey cleared his throat. 'I strongly suggest that you think carefully before you decide to take that course. After all, we are talking about Mr Cook's estate here. He was very clear that he wanted everything to go to you.'

Lisa glanced at Eddie. 'I'm sure it's what I want. But I'll think it over if you like. Perhaps I can see you next week, and we can figure out a way of getting this done?'

'Very well,' said Bergey.

Eddie breathed in. He smiled at Lisa. 'Thank you,' he said.

Lisa smiled quickly back. But a few minutes later, as we all got up to leave the room, I caught Eddie glaring at me.

I was eager to get back to the office while Lisa took the other two to the airport. I was looking forward to a dose of normality.

It was with relief that I immersed myself in the problems of Net Cop and Tetracom. But I was soon disturbed by a summons from Gil.

He sat me down on his sofa and poured me a cup of coffee.

'Thank you for coming in today, Simon. I know you must have a lot on your plate at home, but we can definitely use you here. There's plenty to do, and Frank leaves a big hole.'

'It's no problem. It's good to have the distraction, to be honest.'

'I'm sure,' said Gil sympathetically. 'How's Lisa?'

'Not great,' I said.

'No. It must be bad for her. And you?'

'Not too good, either. I just wish Frank and I had parted on better terms.'

'Don't beat yourself with that, Simon. Frank thought very highly of you. He told me so on many occasions. And although he's gone, I won't forget his opinions. They were always worth listening to.'

I tried to smile.

Gil cleared his throat. 'This is a difficult question, but I think it's important to clear the air. The police have been asking all of us here all kinds of questions about Frank, and about you. They haven't said anything directly, but from their questions I'd guess they view you as a likely suspect.'

'I know'

'So my question is, are they correct?'

'You mean, did I kill Frank?'

Gil nodded. His eyes, shrunken by the thick lenses of his glasses, bored into me. I met them, held them.

'No, Gil. No, I didn't.'

Gil paused a moment, and then sat back. 'Good. I believe you. I thought so, but I wanted to ask for myself. I want you to know that you have my total support, and that of the firm. If there's anything I can do for you please ask.'

'Thank you,' I said. 'Um, Gil?'

'Yes?'

'There is one thing. I wonder if you could give me the name of a good criminal lawyer? I doubt I'll need one, but you never know'

Gil looked at me strangely for a moment, as if wondering whether he had made a mistake in trusting me so quickly. Then he gave me a quick smile. 'Certainly. Hold on a moment.' He went over to his desk and rifled through his Rolodex. 'Gardner Phillips. He's an old friend of mine, and a fine trial lawyer. Here's his number.'

He handed me an index card, and I jotted down the details.

'Thanks. As I say, I hope I won't need him.' I made as if to get up.

'One moment, Simon. There's something else I wanted to talk to you about.'

'Oh yes?'

'Net Cop. What are you planning to do about it?'

'As I told you, I don't intend giving up quite yet. The company can continue for a month or so as it is. Craig Docherty and I are trying to find some other sources of funds to develop the prototype switch.'

Any luck?'

'None yet. But we've only just started.'

'I see. I'm worried about Craig Docherty. I think Frank might have been right about him.'

I looked at Gil sharply. 'What do you mean?'

'He came to see me last week. He threatened me, said he would go to the press with the story of how Revere allegedly hadn't met its commitment to him.'

I groaned. How could Craig have been so stupid? 'What did you tell him?' I asked.

'I told him to leave my office. I won't be blackmailed by my entrepreneurs.'

'He was probably just upset,' I said. 'He was pretty angry when I told him we were going to pull out.'

'Oh it was clear he was upset. But as Frank said, it clouded his judgement. It wasn't smart to threaten me.'

'I think he's calmer now. I can make sure he doesn't do anything like that again.'

'It was stupid, Simon. If he did something that stupid once, he's going to do something just as stupid again.'

I saw Gil's point. 'What do you want me to do about it?'

Gil paused. 'Do you really think you can salvage something from this investment?'

'I think so. I don't make any promises…' I looked up at Gil, who caught the point and smiled, 'but I will do my best.'

'OK. Do this. Carry on with Net Cop. Get every last dollar you can out of it. But tell Craig Docherty that if he breathes a word to the press that might harm Revere's reputation, he'll be fired from Net Cop, and he'll never get venture backing from anyone in this town again.'

'I'll tell him.'

'What was that all about?' asked Daniel, back in the associates' office.

'Gil wanted to know whether I killed Frank. It seems I'm everyone's favourite suspect.'

'You're certainly mine,' said Daniel. 'Thanks for the support.'

'Do the police have any other ideas who might have done it?'

'Not that I'm aware of. I'm sure they'll find someone.'

'Poor guy,' said Daniel. 'Revere will be screwed without him.'

'I know what you mean.' BioOne excepted, Frank was easily Revere's most able investor. Gil's record was patchy and Art's was downright appalling, once again BioOne excepted. Ravi and Diane had made some promising investments between them, but it was too early to tell how they would do. But Frank was more than a good investor. He was the voice of caution, the voice of common sense, the voice Gil listened to when he had a difficult decision to make.

'Where's John?' I asked.

'Sick.'

'Huh. It must be serious. He's such a healthy sod, you don't expect him to actually take a day off work.'

'He's taken Frank's death pretty badly. You know how much they worked together,' Daniel said. 'Oh, by the way, I saw Jeff Lieberman in New York last weekend.'

'Was he interested in Net Cop?'

'He might be. Give him a call.'

I sighed. 'Maybe I will. After I've straightened out my favourite lunatic CEO.'

Craig had recovered his optimism and energy as he came bounding over to me, dressed as always in jeans, sneakers and T-shirt. 'Hey, Simon, howya doin'?'

'Not so good, I'm afraid, Craig.'

'Yeah. I heard about Frank Cook. I'm sorry. Come through to my office.'

We went through to the glass-enclosed space in the corner. 'So, is there any chance Revere might change its mind about the money now?' asked Craig.

I recoiled. 'You mean after what happened to Frank?'

'Yeah.' He looked at me expectantly.

'No, Craig, no chance at all.'

'Too bad,' Craig said. Only then did he seem to read my expression. 'Guess that was in bad taste, huh?'

'You could say that, Craig,' I replied. 'It also wasn't such a great idea to try to threaten Gil Appleby. What were you thinking of?'

'Hey. I was angry. I was desperate. I was willing to try anything.'

'Well, you didn't impress Gil. In fact, he told me to tell you that if you squeak a word to the press, we'll fire you.'

'You can't do that,' said Craig.

'We can, and you know it,' I said. Sadly, it was all too common for venture capitalists to fire entrepreneurs from the companies they had founded. Craig had come awfully close. Despite the faith in me he professed, the only thing holding Gil back had probably been his expectation that Net Cop would go bust of its own accord anyway.

'Oh, and after that he'll make sure you never get backing from a venture capital firm again,' I added.

Craig sighed. 'OK, I get the message. I'm sorry.'

A thought struck me. 'When I left Net Cop the day before Frank was killed, you seemed awfully cheerful. That had nothing to do with his death, did it?'

'No, of course not,' said Craig.

I looked at him suspiciously, but his face was all injured innocence.

He stood up and moved over to a whiteboard in his office. There was a string of names, venture capitalists in one column, and industry players in the other. Many of the names were crossed out.

'We're gettin' no luck with the VCs,' Craig said, 'but some of the equipment suppliers are nibbling. Nortel has said "no", but Ericsson and Luxtel sound interested. I've fixed up a meeting with Luxtel in New Jersey tomorrow…'

Craig rattled on, optimism returned, once again totally absorbed with the success of his company.

Inspired by Craig's enthusiasm, I called Jeff Lieberman in New York. He was pleased to hear from me. He liked the Net Cop deal. Daniel had indeed put a good word in over the weekend. In fact, Jeff had talked to a couple of his colleagues, and they had agreed to put in a hundred and fifty thousand dollars between them for an appropriate share of the company yet to be haggled over. It was much more than I had expected. Craig was impressed. Net Cop would still need more funds to develop the prototype, but Jeff and his friends had bought us a couple more weeks to find them. Not much, but it was something.

I took the train from Wellesley back to South Station and put in a couple of hours' work. I left the office early. I was worried about Lisa.

I went straight home, walking rapidly across the Common. I usually found that was the time when the problems of the day came crowding back into my mind, begging to be solved.

Gil's conversation with me jostled its way to the front of my brain. Mahoney hadn't said I was a suspect, but it was clear I was heading that way. I might need Gil's lawyer friend.

I approached a bench just above the Frog Pond in the middle of the Common. It was a grey afternoon and a few spots of rain spattered my face. There weren't many people about. I stopped suddenly, sat down on the bench, and looked behind me, back towards the elegant Georgian spire of Park Street Church and the giant buildings of the Financial District towering above it. An old lady stumbled by, muttering to herself. Behind her was a young Hispanic man in jeans and a dark jacket. His eyes darted up at me as I sat down, and he seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he walked past me, eyes on the pathway beneath his feet.

I was being followed. He was a policeman, no doubt. I decided not to say anything as he passed, head down, but I kept my eyes on him, until he had left the Common and turned right up Beacon Street. Only then did I continue home.

Lisa looked pleased to see me. She was wearing an old blue oxford shirt of Frank's he had lent her when we were painting the apartment just after we moved in. I hugged her.

'Did your mother and Eddie leave all right?' I asked.

She nodded. 'The plane was right on time. Mom wouldn't go without making me promise we'd visit her for Thanksgiving.'

'That's OK. We were planning to do that anyway, weren't we?'

'I thought so.'

'That was a pretty unpleasant meeting this morning, wasn't it?'

'I can't believe Dad left Eddie out of his will. That was so stupid.'

'It was very generous of you to cut him back in.'

'I didn't want Dad's death to cause any more strain on our family. And after Dad left, Eddie did so much to look after Mom and me. It's only fair to let him have his share. Don't you think so?'

'I suppose so,' I said.

Lisa looked at me. 'Do you think I was wrong?'

'If it were me, I'd have kept the money. Your father knew what he was doing. And Eddie was always going to get the hundred thousand bucks from the life insurance policy.'

Lisa frowned. 'But it's not right.'

'Don't worry, Lisa. It was your decision. And what you did was very generous. Eddie is very lucky to be your brother.'

Lisa smiled. Then her face became serious. 'You don't like him, do you?'

'It's more a case of him not liking me. But after a while, I have to admit I begin to feel the same way about him.'

'He's a wonderful person, really. After the divorce, I was the one who cried. I couldn't bear the thought of not living with Dad any more, or the idea that Mom and Dad didn't love each other. Eddie seemed to take it all so well: he never cried, he comforted. Whenever I had a problem, he was there. I was always going through those crises of self-confidence teenage girls suffer from. And Eddie always told me I was good enough to do whatever I wanted to do. He encouraged me to study biochemistry, to go to Stanford, to become a research student. He made me believe in myself again. Thanks to him, I did a pretty good job of getting over the divorce. I guess he never did. That's why he's so touchy about Dad.'

'It must have been rough on him,' I said, to mollify Lisa. What I really thought was that Eddie was a spoiled brat, who had thrown a temper tantrum and been rewarded with a couple of million bucks or more. But it was Lisa's money, and I really did admire her determination to be generous to her family.

At least now we can help Helen out on her lawsuit,' Lisa said.

'If you're sure we can use that money?' I asked.

'Of course, Simon. I want her to win as much as you do.'

I smiled at her. With everything else that was going wrong, I was pleased that there might finally be some prospect of good news for my sister. She deserved it.

'You should call and tell her,' Lisa said. 'But remember, we'll have to wait till probate comes through.'

'I'll ring her tomorrow,' I said. 'She'll be very happy. Thank you.' I kissed her. 'How do you feel?'

'Lousy'

'You're coping well.'

'Thanks to you.' She held me again. 'I'm so glad I married you. I couldn't deal with this alone.'

'It's the best decision I ever made,' I said, kissing the top of her head.

We held each other in silence. I remembered when I had made that decision. We were spending a long weekend in the Berkshires, a beautiful range of hills in western Massachusetts. We were walking up a path that ran alongside a small stream. I was in front, Lisa behind. Suddenly, I don't know where from, I got this strong feeling that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this woman. I knew it was right. I wanted to turn round and tell her straight away, but I thought I ought to think it over first. But with every step I took up that hill, the surer I became. A rush of exhilaration flowed through me, and I smiled broadly to myself.

The gradient levelled off, and we emerged from the trees, into a clearing by a small lake, much like a Cumbrian tarn. It shone blue in the sunshine. We made our way over to its banks and sat on a large stone.

There was almost total stillness, apart from the occasional breath of wind ruffling the grass and throwing ripples across the tarn.

'You're very quiet,' said Lisa.

I didn't answer her, but I couldn't prevent the grin I had been trying hard to control spreading across my face.

'What is it?' she asked.

I said nothing.

She hit me playfully on the shoulder. 'What?'

I turned to her. 'Will you marry me?'

Her face went almost into shock. She clearly hadn't anticipated the question. I thought I'd made a big mistake. She didn't answer me. She clammed up.

'Lisa?'

She still didn't answer. For a moment I thought I had blown it completely, gone too far, totally misjudged our relationship. I sat there, helpless, trying not to stare at Lisa's silence.

The sun edged across the sky. Clouds came and went. Neither of us moved. Finally, Lisa turned to me.

'All right,' she said, smiling. 'I'll marry you.'

I let out a whoop, and threw my arms around her. We held each other tight, laughing, too excited to say anything coherent.

Now, a year later, she stirred in my arms.

'I think I'll go to work tomorrow,' she said. 'I can't stand hanging around here any more. And they need me there.' She broke away. 'Oh, I got a couple of visitors today'

'Oh, yes?'

'Yeah. John Chalfont came round. He was very sweet. He didn't say much. Just that he was sorry about Dad.'

'Did he look ill?'

'Sick, you mean? No. He looked pretty sad, though.'

'He took the day off sick today. He and your father worked together a lot. I think he feels pretty bad.'

'He's a nice guy.'

'He is. Who else came?'

'Oh, the police.'

'Again?'

'They searched the place.' I glanced round the living room. It looked just as it had this morning when I had left. 'Don't worry, I put everything back.'

'Did they have a warrant?'

'They certainly did.'

'What were they looking for?'

'I don't know. They seemed awfully interested in some of your clothes. They had tweezers and little plastic bags.'

'Did they find anything?'

'I don't think so. Why, should they have found anything?'

'I don't know.'

'You look worried.'

'I am. I feel like I'm being surrounded. Like they're blocking all the exit routes before they attack.'

'They can't do anything to you. You're innocent.'

I looked down at Lisa's trusting face. She trusted me and she trusted the US justice system.

'Gil gave me the name of a good lawyer. If this gets any heavier, I'll give him a call.'

'It'll be OK, Simon. They'll find the real killer.'

'I hope so.'

'And when they do,' she said, anger flaring in her voice,'I hope they kill the bastard just like he killed Dad.'