The public has spoken, by an overwhelming margin the requests for me to continue this story line have won. I am working on the next chapter already, and am a little more than half-way done.
I had superb editorial help with this chapter from Epithet, a Literotica voluntary editor.
She's a professional editor, who used her talent to help me produce a much better story. I learned a great deal from our collaboration, and believe that my writing will now reflect that knowledge. Any problems with this story are probably things which I decided not to change to the way she recommended.
This chapter explains the provisions of the codicil to the will. The first half of the chapter will make no sense if you've not read the other two chapters. When you've finished, please send me your feedback and don't forget to vote.
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I've always liked my attorneys. I don't like most of them as a general rule, but it's not all their fault. Earning their Juris Doctorate teaches them to tell their clients what they can't do. Very few of them learn that their job is to tell their clients how to do what they want. My lawyers had long ago learned this lesson.
The law firm I use is McFarland, Shane, Wilson, McFarland and Associates. The Senior Managing Partner is Jonathan R. McFarland. He was one of my Dad's oldest and closest friends. He is one of only two of my lawyers who came to dad's funeral; his son, J. R. Jr., is the other one.
Despite the difference in our ages, I always considered him as a friend, and his son as an older brother. I knew that they would always look out for my interests with the full weight of their firm. I was thinking of this background to our relationship as I walked into their impressive lobby nearly thirty minutes early.
I smiled to myself as I walked the long distance to the reception desk. Successful law firms always set up their offices to impress clients; huge offices with expensive furniture, beautiful secretaries and receptionists and large open reception areas with a long walk to the desk.
The receptionist who greets you is usually the first or second most beautiful young woman in the firm. The receptionist is also universally intelligent and intuitive. She is the first impression the firm gives a client, and a very important team member.
As I walked up to the desk she saw me and hurried around the desk, came up to me and held out her hand, saying, "Doctor Hamilton, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Laura and I'm to escort you to Mister McFarland's office."
Laura grabbed my arm and walked me down the wide hallway lined with the partner's portraits. I knew that it was her job to stroke my ego and that she had been extensively briefed, but I was flattered anyway. JR Jr. was just reaching the wide double doors to his dad's office as we approached.
"Hey Davey, it's great to see you. Dad will be here as soon as he can, he's just winding up our morning meeting." Junior said as Laura bid me goodbye and headed back to the reception area. I always enjoyed listening to Junior's voice. He'd picked up a slight Boston twang while he attended Harvard Law School to earn his JD.
We went into his dad's office and chatted while we waited. The senior McFarland joined us shortly, and Junior excused himself a few minutes later and left me with his dad.
The senior McFarland looked at me and said, "David, I've been looking forward to this meeting for a long time. Your dad left very specific instructions for this meeting, and I've been curious for a long time about how everything would play out. There are several separate sessions scheduled for today and I anticipate that you'll be here until three or four o'clock this afternoon."
I was stunned, I had no idea, from everything that I knew, why today's meeting would take so long. I adjusted myself to this reality and struggled to maintain a neutral expression, as dad had taught me.
I decided to ask the senior McFarland, "Do you have a schedule of the meetings?"
A smile crinkled his eyes as he told me, "Yes."
I waited for him to continue; however, he just stared back at me. His eyes had that maddening smile as he waited for me to talk. I finally realized that he had specific instructions not to answer my questions. Dad was throwing a final nearly day long test at me.
A wide smile split the elder McFarland's face as he said to me, "You figured it out already, didn't you?"
I nodded as he said, "I should have known better than to bet against your dad."
He opened up his wallet, handed me a dollar bill and said to me, "Your dad was one of my best friends and the smartest man I ever knew. He used to tell me that you were twice as smart as he ever was. He bet me a dollar that you'd figure it out within five minutes; but I thought you'd take at least fifteen, it took you less than four."
McFarland senior looked at me and smiled wistfully, "I really miss your dad, and he died much too young. I'm only now realizing just how smart he actually was. He used his ability to think, to see into the future. You'll learn more about your dad today than you knew before; I don't even know it all. When you get done for the day, stop in to see me and tell me what you can. I've got an office set up for you, a private place where you can hold your meetings. My personal secretary will hold down the fort up front for you, and junior promised to take you to lunch. Your first appointment should be here any time now, let me take you to your office and have Wendy get you a cup of coffee."
Fifteen minutes later, I was in a meeting with a gentleman names Denville (just call me Denny) Munson. Denny was short, overweight and sloppy-looking with thick; horn-rimmed glasses. Not at all what someone would picture as a high-ranking member of a prestigious bank. More than anything else he reminded me of the character played by Peter Falk, Colombo.
Denny was a vice president of dad's bank's Trust department. Denny looked at me and asked, "How much do you know about the assets in your dad's trust?"
"I actually know very little, practically no specifics. I'm nearly certain that that's the way dad wanted it. I know that he had several million dollars; but, nothing about the distribution." I said, keeping my face carefully neutral.
Denny pulled out a thick wad of green bar computer paper as he said to me, "We completed a full audit of your dad's assets in his personal trust Friday. The total estimate of the assets in that trust is approximately $441 million. That's after all fees, taxes, expenses and reserves. Today we'll take care of transferring title to all assets in this trust according to your direction."
"I understand that you have a little bit of business education and are able to read a simple spreadsheet." Denny said with a wry smile as he plopped town the two and a half inch thick stack of green bar paper in front of me. He put a sealed envelope on top of the stack of paper and said, "Your dad asked me to give this to you and have you read it before you went over any of the data. I don't know what's in it, but it was very important to him. He wanted me to leave you alone to go over this stuff. How long do you think you'll need?"
I glanced at the stack of paper, and then the envelope and said, "Give me about forty five minutes."
"Decisive and confident, I like that. If the science thing doesn't work out for you, talk to me. I'll give you a real job in banking. The only problem I see, is if you're anything like your dad, I'll be working for you six months after you start." Denny got up and headed for the door.
I asked him if he could ask Wendy to come in on his way out. He nodded and opened the door as I took everything over to the desk.
Wendy came in as I was beginning to open the letter and asked, "How may I help you Doctor Hamilton?"
"I'd like another cup of coffee and when you get back, please show me where the call light and the intercom are." I told her.
I opened the letter and began reading:
Dear Davey,
I hoped to be telling you all of this in person; but if you're reading this I didn't get a chance. I plan to rewrite this letter every year around your birthday, so that it's always up to date. If you're reading this, I didn't even make it to the first rewrite.
I knew that I was kind of old to be having my first child when you were born; but I loved you deeply. You were such a bright kid and never gave me any trouble. When you have children, I hope that you have one like yourself so that you will know the joy I feel every time I think of you.
I've got a lot of things I need to let you know that I purposely didn't tell you before. Today is a very important day for you. You have several decisions to make and not much time to make them. I have experts evaluating your decisions to see what type of person you have become. As you have guessed by now, this will be my last little test of you. I have no doubt that you will pass with flying colors; I believe you could have passed when I wrote this letter.
I plan to give this letter to a VP at the bank named Denny. If he either dies or leaves I'm sure that whoever takes his place will give it to you. If it is Denny, let me warn you, he is nearly as bright as you are. He may look rumpled but I'm sure that he spends extra money at the drycleaners to have them do that to his clothes. Many people have underestimated his ability to their sorrow. I trust his judgment and he is one of the people evaluating your performance today. Don't screw up, he'll see it.