“No,” he quickly said. “Remember the phones. Call your wife and leave a message for Hank. Make it cryptic enough so we’ll understand, but she won’t. We’ll check with her somehow.”
“Good idea. I should have something by tomorrow afternoon. Right now, I’d better copy all of this. They’ll want to see everything. Can I take the recording?”
Brent shrugged. “Sure. You’ll need it.”
3:14P.M.
HAMILTONLEE STRUTTED ACROSS THE TWENTY-NINTH FLOORtoward Larry Hughes’ suite of offices. He entered and noticed that Hughes’ assistant was still crying.
“How’s Nancy?” he asked, feigning concern for Bozin’s employee.
“She’s home, under a doctor’s care.”
“This is all so terrible. So tragic.”
“Yes, it is,” she said through the tears. “Mr. Bozin was a wonderful man.”
He agreed, then excused himself and slipped into Hughes’ office. Closing the door, he instantly dropped the pretense. “There’s something we need to do. Chris’ will. We need to get it.”
“And how are we going to do that?”
“He had no family. Wouldn’t it be logical for his business partners to handle his affairs?” He plopped down on the camelback sofa. An oval mahogany table with an exquisite Tiffany lamp sat next to it, a phone beneath. He grabbed the handset. “Chris’ lawyer was Mark Durham. He told me about him back in friendlier times.”
He’d already located the phone number, writing it down, so he dialed and was ultimately connected with Durham, after explaining who he was and the nature of the emergency.
“I don’t think we’ve ever met, but Chris Bozin spoke highly of you all the time,” he told Durham. “I wanted you to know. Chris died this morning.”
Durham sighed. “That’s awful. Terrible. I knew time was short, but I never suspected the illness was so far along.”
“Terminal cancer. We’ve all been upset about this for some time. The reason I’m calling is that Chris’ estate is going to need handling, and he specifically asked us to look after things.”
“Not a problem, Mr. Lee. Mr. Bozin left an envelope for you here last week. He told me about his medical condition then and said for me to expect your call in the event of his death. I just didn’t realize it would be so soon. He instructed me to promptly deliver the envelope. I’ll have it sent over by messenger right away.”
An hour later, the envelope arrived.
Lee read the handwritten note alone in his office.
By now I have been Prioritized, processed, and you’ve attempted to get a copy of my will. You’re so predictable, Hamilton. Last week, I rewrote my will. All of my estate, including the payment owed to it by the company (and payable withinthe next 90 days per our shareholder’s agreement), is now in a trust. My lawyer has been instructed on what to do and the named Trustee, Brent Walker, has been provided some specific written instructions. I think you’ll find the whole thing exciting. I know I do.
He smiled.
The old man had style, he’d give him that. Whatever Bozin conceived had obviously been carefully planned.
Everything apparently thought through and anticipated.
Or was it?
DAY NINETEEN
SATURDAY, JUNE 24
12:20P.M.
S.LOUGREENE NAVIGATED HIS CHERRY-REDJAGUAR THROUGH THEweekend traffic. He flashed a left blinker, then turned off the busy boulevard into the subdivision. His car was not out of place—Cadillacs, Lincolns, Mercedes, BMWs, and at least one Rolls-Royce adorned the drives in front of the mansions lining the curbed street.
The development carried the prestigious name of Peachtree Estates. He assumed the applicable restrictive covenants mandated at least a two-acre-minimum lot size and ten thousand square feet under roof. No guard gate protected the entrance, probably because the residents deemed it more economical to dedicate the streets to the city and let the taxpayers pay for upkeep, reserving their money for decorative fences, private security services, and guard dogs, as much status symbols as practical.
The houses varied from one to four stories in height. Most were brick and stucco with columned façades and steep gabled roofs, yards meticulously planted with an assortment of trees, shrubs, ferns, and summer flowers. Not a bare spot or weed in sight. He was accustomed to such luxury. His own house was every bit as nice, the only difference being that his four thousand square feet with a pool did not sit on astronomically high-priced real estate in the hills of north Atlanta.
