The Heir

30

I was up early Sunday. The house was still dark when I left.

Katie called me an hour later.

“Jason! Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. You saw my note?”

“Yes. But I was worried.”

“I want some time to think,” I said.

“Because of last night?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry about him,” she said. “They’re terrible people. Whatever you have to do, they deserve it.”

“I hope not. Someday I might get what I deserve.”

“Don’t do that! You always turn my words against me.”

“No, not against you-against me.”

“Last night you said that you were your father’s son. That’s not bad, Jason. It’s why we are where we are.”

“Getting born into some family is a pretty random thing.”

“But it’s what makes you who you are.”

“Then why don’t I like it?”

“I can’t argue with you, Jason.”

“It’s okay. I can argue with myself just fine. I don’t need someone else to help.”

“I wish I could help.”

How I wish you could. “Just give me time.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Decide.”

There was a long enough pause after that, that I wondered if the connection was breaking up.

“But I have decided,” she said finally. She was breaking up, not the connection. “You’re scaring me. You make me feel like everything’s built on sand.”

“It is. I can’t fix it, Katie. I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t, either,” she said.

I told her I’d call later.

My father’s son. I leaned back in his old wooden desk chair behind the old wooden desk, among the books that were never read and the globe that was never turned, and the son was the father.

Had he ever asked the questions?

Had he found answers, or had he learned to live without them?

The windows looked out over the gardens and lawn. It was all just starting to fray a little from lack of care. The sky was still clean and tended.

What a beautiful Sunday morning. Five weeks since Katie and Eric and I had sat at our breakfast table in shock at Melvin dying the night before. Now I was the one who had died the night before.

How much longer could I go on like this? I would either accept my fate to be Melvin or kill myself, and they were both the same thing.

But I couldn’t go on. I couldn’t live with this confusion in my soul-it would be only a matter of time before I would drive myself off a cliff to escape the questions.

It was real, that I would kill myself. All the money and power- that was what it was trying to do, however it could. It would kill. That was its real goal. Melvin, Angela, Grainger-it had killed all of them. Katie, Eric, Fred, Bob Forrester, Harry Bright-they were all mortally wounded. And when I looked at it, I knew the answer.

So it was that I made my decision, life or death, and I chose to live if there was any chance left that I could.

I locked the door of the mansion behind me and then I was standing next to my car. I didn’t know what I’d actually decided, only that I had.

Where was I going? I couldn’t go to Katie, not yet. I wanted someone who knew what I meant and could help me.

Nathan was only one man I knew who had somehow escaped the sting and poison. I set my course back toward the city.

I called him once I was on the highway. Always polite, yes, he was home, he would be very pleased to see me. Come right over.

In fifty minutes I was in his neighborhood. It was at the other end of town but identical to my own old neighborhood.

He answered the door himself. There was something confusing about seeing him this way, in slacks and a polo shirt, in a domestic setting. Everything was tasteful, balanced. A few things were expensive. It was all comfortable.

We sat in his study. There were lots of shelves, with lots of binders and reports and scholarly books on them. A study where a person would study. Nathan worked very hard, but not to build his own bank account or influence. A person would need a reason to work this hard. What had seemed meaningless before now enticed me with the lure of meaning.

“Sit down, Jason.” I got the grand stuffed chair, where so many of those reports had been read. Nathan sat in his desk chair, where many of the reports had been written.

“I need help,” I said.

“Whatever I can do,” he said, his brow wrinkled.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

He knew what I meant, immediately. He waited for me to keep going.

“You’ve been right all along,” I said. I was surprised by my own vehemence. “I’m being destroyed. I have to escape.”

“Jason.” He might even have been wondering if he should call the police, or an ambulance. “I didn’t mean it that way. I never meant to imply that you…”

“But it’s happening anyway. Last night… I was just like Melvin.”

“I understand. You were at the Forresters’ last night?” Yes, he certainly understood.

“It was real nasty. I was. I was everything I hate, Nathan. It was like… like it wasn’t me. But it was.”

“I do understand, Jason.”

“It will kill me. I mean that literally. I want to get out.”

“What do you mean, ‘get out’?”

“I don’t know,” I said. This was the real decision, and he waited for me. “I want to go back to the way it was, before he died.”

That answer crumbled swiftly. “Were you satisfied with your life back then?” He knew I wasn’t.

“No. Not really.”

“You can’t go back anyway. Too much has changed in these last weeks, especially you. Let me ask you a different question.” It took him some time to assemble it. “What can you accept of your father’s?”

I knew right away. “I… no. Nothing. I can’t.”

“Is there any line you can draw? Could you accept an income, as you had before, and nothing else?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know where to draw a line. I tried before, but it never worked. There’s no right place to draw it.” And this was the line in my own mind that I could never get past. “What would you do, Nathan?”

He looked away from me, and he was still and silent. It took him a long time. Even after more than a minute, when he looked back up at me and studied me, he didn’t speak.

Then he sighed. “I’m very troubled about saying this, Jason. It’s perilous to give counsel to another person when the consequences will be so great.”

“I want to know.”

“I’m not sure what I would do, because I’m not in your place. I’ve come to know you, though, and I knew your father, and I’ve known many people and seen many things. This is what I believe you should do.” It was the first time anyone had ever said those words before and I’d wanted to hear them. “Give it up, Jason. Turn away. I don’t know what this course of action will do to anyone else affected by it-and that will be many people. I am only speaking to you, about you. Give it all up-everything.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, but you can work that out once you’ve decided.”

“It would mean the end of the foundation.”

“Yes. I suppose it might well mean that.” He smiled, a tight, pained smile. “I said before that shutting down the foundation would be a small price to pay to restore integrity to this state. Now my words may come back to haunt me. But the foundation can’t stand long if it depends on the torture of a man’s soul.” He shook his head. “That should not be a consideration to you.”

There was an obvious answer.

“Melvin wanted the foundation to have the estate.”

“And I was against it.” He took another long minute to think it through. “At least, I requested that he change his will. It was his decision.” He stood and wandered to his shelves; I guess the binders and books represented to him his real love, and he was looking for comfort. “Even now, I still hope there is some other way. I never wanted such a responsibility. Even in a better world, without vice and moral dilemma, it would be crushing. In this world, the entanglements, the compromises… I couldn’t, Jason. You more than anyone know how it is.”

“Yes. But I don’t see another way.”

“Break it apart. Sell each business to a different buyer. Please don’t put this burden on the foundation. It would destroy it.”

“It would take years to divest. You’re right; that’s what has to be done. The whole structure has to be demolished. But I can’t do it. I’m not strong enough. You said it yourself- I have to give it up – and you’re right about that, too. But you could do it.”

“Take the estate for the purpose of divesting it?” He was back at his desk and he sank into the chair. “It might be possible. I wouldn’t really know how.”

“There are people who do. It’s the will to do it that has to be there.”

“How would you live?” he said. “You need an income.”

“Other people live without inheriting a billion dollars. I can find a way.”

Then he asked the question I was dreading most. “What about Katie?”

“I don’t know.”

What would this do to her? I knew how she would react at first, but then what? I truly didn’t know.

“She’ll hate it. Money has always been so important to her.”

“More important than you? Your marriage?”

“I don’t know. It might be.”

“I’m sorry. Will you ask Fred Spellman to advise you in any of this?”

“Not likely.”

He nodded. “Yes, I agree. If you don’t wish to confide in Fred, I can recommend Jacob Rosenberg. He’s on the board of the foundation and is our legal adviser. He’s an expert in corporate law.”

“How is he on divorce?”

“I hope it won’t come to that.”

“Hope?” I said. “I don’t have much.”

“But you need hope. Everyone does.”

I wasn’t going to answer that. I had what I wanted. It was time to get away before Nathan started digging into the next layer of questions. “I’ll talk to Rosenberg. Thank you.”

“I’ll do anything I can. Anything.”

“You’ve done enough.”

“You have a long life ahead of you,” he said. “This crisis will end-you aren’t thinking that far into the future right now, but the future will come. Jason, I’ve gotten to know you somewhat. You have questions. We can talk about them.”

And I almost did. An image came into my mind, of the churchyard with the ancient trees, and the hallowed church. Death and life together. Nathan could answer those questions, as well.

But this was not the time, and there were lots of hard things still to do today. I left with enough hope to face them.

I used most of it up just getting to the forty-second floor, and I was feeling pretty hopeless again. I had a plan, though, and steps I could take. For the moment I was still rich, so I didn’t mind calling an expensive lawyer on Sunday afternoon and summoning him to my office.

Jacob Rosenberg was actually not much older than myself, and he was also not in a suit. He wore a trendy little goatee beard and mustache thing, and an air of competence that reminded me of George Elias. He was attentive and not distracted by the view.

“Did you know Melvin?” I asked.

“I met him on the board.” He also had an earnestness that reminded me of Nathan.

“And I assume you have an idea of what I’ve inherited from him.”

“Yes, Mr. Boyer. Fairly well.”

“Good. You’ll need to get very familiar.”

This was the point where the decision would start becoming real. I took a deep and lingering look out my magnificent windows. I was distracted by them.

“I won’t discuss reasons,” I said, “but I want to transfer everything to the foundation.”

He sat back in the chair. “Everything?”

“All of it.”

He was still breathless, but he got to work. “Yes, sir. All right. What is your time frame?”

“How long will it take?”

“I won’t know until I see a list of assets.”

“Guess.”

“If we worked very hard, probably one week for most of it.”

That deserved another survey of the panorama. It was getting to be later afternoon. From downtown the highways radiated with light traffic to the neighborhoods beyond. Usually they were lost in the haze but it was the first clear day of October, and I could finally see, farther than I ever had before from that place.

“Make it one week. Start this afternoon.”

“Yes, sir.”

I opened my desk and found the papers George Elias had given me weeks before. The top one was a little worn-the one with the box at the bottom and the ten-digit number in it.

“Take these. I’ll direct George Elias to work with you. His number is in there.”

He looked at the list, quickly and professionally, but his eyes still got big as he went through them.

“It’s a lot of assets,” he said.

“Will there be any problems?”

“I… don’t see any so far.” He looked up. “I believe you’ve used some of the cash account for your house and expenses?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything else I should exclude, besides your personal assets that predate the inheritance?”

I stared out the windows again, but now I was looking at the stone fireplace, the dining room table, the bedroom suite, the cars. Where had they come from? Even the boat. Was there anything that was mine?

“Don’t exclude anything.”

He nodded, still with his eyes on me.

“Mr. Boyer, is your wife in agreement with your plans?”

“We haven’t discussed them yet.”

“I see.”

“Everything is in my name,” I said.

“Yes, but she has common property rights.”

“How will that affect me?”

He was looking through the lists again. “How is the house titled?”

“Through a trust. It’s in my name.”

“That was to keep your wife off the title?”

“That wasn’t the reason. It was better for taxes. And she wasn’t involved in the closing.”

“I understand.” Twice he started a sentence but backed off, trying to find the best words. “How do you think she’ll react when you do discuss your plans?”

“She will not be in agreement.”

“Will she actively work against you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Specifically, would she file for divorce?”

“I guess it’s possible.”

“I see.” The sentence was having a hard time getting out. “It can change everything if she does. It would give her standing to obtain a court injunction against any transfer of assets. Short of a divorce, she could only contest the sale of the house. It’s her residence. Once she files, everything you own can be contested.”

“What if I don’t tell her?”

That took more thought. “I don’t think it would work. The court could possibly intervene retroactively and invalidate the contracts, especially if the assets were still intact. And, Mr. Boyer, you won’t be able to do this secretly. These transactions are going to be public. I think we both know how the news media will react to any news about your family, especially something of this magnitude, and in the middle of all the political scandals going on.”

“Go ahead anyway,” I said. “If we have to deal with divorce proceedings, we will.”

“Yes, sir.” We’d been talking for ten minutes or so, and he allowed himself a brief familiarity. “I hope it won’t come to that.”

“Just be ready for anything.”