Beneficiary

But for Maggie the large boat-shaped conference table was vacant. Nothing in the arrangements for today’s meeting required the presence of her boss, but Maggie thought it odd that she was late. As the wall clock’s minute hand nudged over the 9, Adelle Jogash at last entered the office suite. She was uncharacteristically unburdened either by attaché case or papers.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” asked Maggie.

“How long has the pot been brewing?” Adelle queried.

“The better part of an hour.”

Adelle grunted, but said “Alright, but add a little more cream and sugar than usual.”

Maggie did as instructed as Adelle settled into her faux leather executive’s chair at the head of the table. Maggie set the steaming mug in front of Adelle seat at the head of the table. The coffee was the hazelnut grind that Adelle preferred but which Maggie found too sweet.

“Just twelve more minutes,” said Adelle. “Then it’s a wrap.”

“So it seems.”

Maggie remained outwardly calm despite her inner excitement. She thought back to when this had started 60 days earlier.

**** ****

Maggie served four coffees and one tea to the men and women sitting impatiently around the at the law offices of Adelle Jogash, attorney at law. The office space was located on the second floor of a strip mall on the outskirts of Madison NJ. Half the retail space on the ground floor was empty, the previous tenants having suffered the fate of many brick and mortar outlets in the age of e-commerce. The office space on the second floor was also vacant except for the portion leased to Jogash. Maggie was in her third year of law school, but her internship so far consisted almost exclusively of serving coffee, taking phone messages, and some basic filing that she felt a trained monkey could do. She had been recommended for the internship by the person whose last-will-and-testament was the reason for today’s meeting. Maggie knew that Jogash liked to keep people waiting. It enhanced the impression that she was a busy person with more important things to do. The five were restless but oddly quiet considering that they knew each other. They did exchange numerous furtive glances. As she set down the last coffee mug Maggie could hear footsteps echoing in the hall outside.

Adelle Jogash entered the office. Fiftyish, but looking a decade younger, she wore a blue power suit and heels. Her arms were full of stuffed folders that pertained to no business of which Maggie was aware. Maggie assumed that they were props carried solely for the optics. She ignored the table as she took the folders to her private office. She reappeared a few minutes later holding another legal-size manila file folder. She sat down at the head of the table, opened the file, and also opened a laptop computer already at her station. She removed a small envelope from the file and spilled a flash drive from it. She plugged a flash drive into the laptop. A wide screen wireless TV on the wall lit up.

“Thank you all for coming. “You all know why you’re here. You’ve all received written notices in accordance with the terms in the will of the late Ernest Pradik, and you have spoken to my intern Maggie, so let’s proceed to the video file mentioned in the letters to you unless one of you has a question. Mr. Terence Lacomb, is it?” she asked, glancing at her open folder. “You look as though you have a question.”

Terence wore semiformal attire that would have been fashionable 10 years earlier. “I thought Ernie was broke,” he said.

“But you took a chance by coming here anyway,” said Ilse from across the table. Ilse was a long-haired aging hippie who Maggie guessed was high.

“Did he have life insurance or something?” asked Terence.

“No,” said Adelle. “That would be handled by the insurance company independently of these proceedings. He did, however, have a winning Pick-6 in the lottery last year.”

“I didn’t hear about it.”

“He avoided the press.”

“He always was a lucky bastard,” said Terence.

“I don’t think being diagnosed with an enlarged heart and then dying at age 47 only a few months after winning a lottery can be considered lucky,” said Maggie.

Maggie went quiet as Adelle gave her a stern look.

“So how much money are we talking about?” asked Terence.

“Let’s allow Mr. Pradik to speak for himself,” answered Adelle.

Ernest Pradik appeared on the TV screen looking relaxed and robust despite his heart condition.

“Greetings. Excuse this bit of theatricality – or don’t. It’s up to you. I saw it in a movie. I’m told I could pass from this earth tomorrow…or next year…or five years from now or ten. I’m not sure whether to admire the medical professionals’ willingness to admit their ignorance. I plan to update this video file every year, so if you are seeing this, I guess it the date was an early one. So, greetings from the grave. There is little doubt my mind that all of you are present today:

Brent Itzer, the prankster who tied me to a tombstone when I was ten. No one found me there until two hours after dark. The joke is on you, Brent. I opted for cremation so there will be no tombstone by which you can wax nostalgic.

Ilse Zerlich: You turned me on to psychedelics in your dorm room at college. You should have asked me first. I probably would have done it just because you were pretty. At least then what happened would have been my fault. Slipping it in my Snapple without telling me wasn’t cool. I was in therapy for months.

Terence Lacomb, my ‘partner’ in a dot-coms back when you could make serious money with the simplest applications. You charged all your personal expenses to the business, robbed the till, and left me with the debts.

Celia Treanor, my true love who cheated on me with my best friend.

Reginald Podul, the best friend.

Let us not forget Adelle Jogash who represented me so well that I lost everything settling the claims against the dot-com and ended up owed her money. She isn’t a beneficiary, of course, but she is billing the estate for her services.

Why on earth would I benefit people whose connection to me is what I’ve just described? All of you have played a major part in who I am. In order to make peace with oneself, one must embrace the concatenation of events that made one who one is. Aw hell, I’m switching to Second Person: you cannot separate the bad times from the good and still remain you. After four decades I’ve finally made that peace. You more than any other six people are responsible for who I am today – or rather, by the time you hear this, who I was – so here you are.

Within days of collecting lottery winning Ms. Jogash gave me a call to offer her services and try to sell me annuities. I knew then that she is the right person to handle these proceedings. How much money are we talking about? I expect after expenses the total will be $5.7 million. Divided among you equally that would be a comfortable safety net for each. For just one of you it would be a tidy fortune.

It will be divided equally among all who are present in the offices of Adelle Jogash 60 days from today, whatever day ‘today’ may be, sometime between the hours of 4 and 5 PM: EST or DST depending on the time of year. Your entry into this building and this room must not be physically obstructed on site by locked doors or some other barrier or you will be considered constructively present. Anyone not present for any other reason will be will be excluded from the inheritance no matter how extenuating the circumstances might be. In that case your share will be divided equally among those who are present.

Ms. Jogash has further instructions should none of you choose to participate.

Good luck. I think you’ll need it.”

“Why would anyone choose not to participate?” asked Celia.

“Use your own imagination,” said Reginald. “He wanted us to be all paranoid about each other: all worried someone will prevent us from being here in 60 days. Maybe even kill us. The sick bastard.”

“It’s a prank. The whole thing is,” Brent added.

“Well, you would know about pranks,” said Ilse.

“And you too, if I heard correctly,” said Brent

“I’m willing to take our dear friend Ernest at his word when it comes to his reason for benefiting us,” said Terence. “But I also think Reggie and Brent are both right, and that Ernie wanted to needle us one last time first. I suggest we ignore his obvious invitation to do harm to each other and just all return here in 60 days. We may all be humanly flawed, but I doubt anyone here is a murderer.”

“Of course,” said Ilse. The others nodded. Maggie didn’t hear confidence in Ilse’s voice, nor did she see it in in the eyes of anyone at the table.

“Well the. See you all in 60 days,” said Adelle. “Maggie, please see everyone out. I have other business to attend to.” Adelle rose, walked to her private office, and closed the door. Maggie knew she had no other business pending that afternoon.

**** ****

The wall clock read 5 o’clock. Maggie rechecked the time on her phone. The wall clock was accurate.

“That’s it, then,” said Adelle. “Not a single show.”

“So it seems.”

“Quite surprising, wouldn’t you say?”

“Not really.”

“What do you mean?” asked Adelle.

“Oh come now, Ms. Jogash. I’m sure you know, but let’s go down the list. Ilse Zerlich died only four days after our last meeting of an opioid overdose. The police ruled it accidental. Terence Lacomb died of carbon monoxide poisoning a week later. Suicide so they said. Celia Treanor fell down a flight of stairs. Also an accident. The next one is no accident. Brent was killed by a crossbow. Who uses a crossbow? Police are investigating that one.

“Why didn’t you mention this to me earlier?” said Adelle. “In fact, if you knew about these events, why didn’t you make a friendly call to the authorities telling them of the inheritance connection?”

“I don’t think I’m telling you anything you don’t know. I was wondering what would happen to Reginald Podul. He was the most paranoid of the bunch and had an old bomb shelter in which I suspect he ensconced himself. That made him difficult to target.”

“How do you know he had a shelter?”

“I read the old listing for the house he bought. It was built in 1962 and had a shelter. All that info is online these days. Unfortunately, he left a crossbow in plain sight… or at least someone left a crossbow in his yard. The police are questioning him as we speak. I got a call from jail a few minutes before you arrived today. He tried to call you rather than a defense attorney. At that point even if they released him immediately he couldn’t have made it here on time.”

“I’m not surprised he called here, but I wouldn’t have been able to bend the rules for him. The will was quite specific,” said Adelle. “If he isn’t here he doesn’t inherit.”

“Was putting that crossbow in his yard the reason you were late?”

“You are fired for suggesting that, Maggie, but why would I do that? Even if I had a motive, which I don’t, that is a very uncertain way to prevent him from being here.”

“I’m sure you had a back-up plan in place if something went wrong with that one – maybe a lethal one. I don’t know how much you were involved with what happened to the others. Maybe they did it to each other, but I’m sure about Reggie. Of course you have a motive. You now get to administer the estate while you ‘search’ for the nearest surviving relative, billing the estate $200 per hour plus expenses all the while. I’m sure you expect the search to turn up empty until the account itself is empty.”

“Speculative. Slanderous, if you repeat it elsewhere.”

“And in case you think of casting any suspicion my way should investigators come to your door, I’ve made very sure to document my whereabouts 24/7 for the past 60 days so I have an airtight alibi for all five unfortunate occurrences. By the way, your search is over: I’m the deceased’s nearest relative. That’s why Ernie recommended me for the job here. I have all the proper documentation to prove it and I expect no trouble from you. Don’t worry, I won’t mention my speculative and ‘slanderous’ thoughts to anyone provided the full value of the estate is transferred to me. Please be expeditious about it. There is a house I’m interested in, and I don’t want to lose it to some other buyer with ready cash.”