Anne dropped her soup spoon. She had not realized that she was overdrawn. Alan could see her distress.
‘That’s not what this lunch is about, Anne,’ he said quickly. ‘The bank is quite happy to advance money on the personal account for the rest of your life. William is making over a million dollars a year on the interest from his trust, so your overdraft is hardly significant; nor indeed is the five hundred thousand Henry is requesting, if it were to receive your backing as William’s legal guardian.’
‘I didn’t realize I had any authority over William’s trust money,’ said Anne.
‘You don’t on the capital sum, but legally the interest earned from it can be invested in any project thought to benefit him, and is under the guardianship of you and his godparents, myself and Millie Preston, until he turns twenty-one. Now, as chairman of William’s trust I can put up that five hundred thousand with your approval. Millie has already informed me that she would be quite happy to grant her approval.’
‘Millie has given her approval?’
‘Yes. Hasn’t she mentioned it to you?’
Anne did not reply immediately.
‘What is your opinion?’ she asked, avoiding the question.
‘Well, I haven’t seen Henry’s accounts, because he only registered the company eighteen months ago and he doesn’t bank with us, so I have no idea what expenditure is over income for the current year, and what return he is predicting for 1923. I do know he has made an application for the new hospital contract, and rumour has it the bid is being taken seriously.’
‘Did you realize that over the past eighteen months I’ve given Henry five hundred thousand dollars of my own money?’ said Anne.
‘My chief teller informs me whenever a large amount of cash is withdrawn from any account. I had no idea what you were using the money for, and frankly it was none of my business, Anne. That money was left to you by Richard, and is yours to spend as you see fit. In the case of the interest from the family trust, that is a different matter. If you did decide to withdraw five hundred thousand dollars to invest in Henry’s firm, the bank would need to inspect his books, because the money would be considered as another investment in William’s portfolio. Richard did not give the trustees the authority to make loans, only to invest on William’s behalf. I have already explained the situation to Henry. If we were to go ahead and make this loan, the trustees would have to be convinced that it was a sound investment.
‘William, of course, is always kept up to date on what we are doing with his trust income, as we saw no reason not to comply with his request that he receive a quarterly investment statement from the bank, in the same way as all the trustees do. No doubt he will have his own views on this particular investment, which he will be fully aware of after he receives the next quarterly report. It may amuse you to know that since his sixteenth birthday, he has been sending me his own opinions on every investment we make. To begin with, I looked on them with the passing interest of a benevolent guardian. Of late, I have been studying them with considerable respect. By the time William takes his place on the board of Kane and Cabot, this bank may well turn out to be too small for him.’
‘I’ve never been asked for advice about William’s trust before,’ Anne said forlornly.
‘Indeed you haven’t, although the bank sends you reports on the first day of every quarter, and it has always been in your power as a trustee to query any of the investments we make on William’s behalf.’ He took a slip of paper from an inside pocket and said no more until the sommelier had finished pouring a second glass of wine. Once the man was out of earshot, Alan continued.
‘William currently has a little over twenty-one million dollars invested with the bank at four and a half per cent. We reinvest the interest for him each quarter in stocks and bonds. We have never in the past invested in a private company. It may surprise you to learn, Anne, that we now carry out this reinvestment on a fifty-fifty basis: fifty per cent on the bank’s advice, and fifty per cent following the suggestions put forward by William himself. At the moment we are still ahead of him, much to the satisfaction of Mr Simmons, our investment director, to whom William has promised a Rolls-Royce should he beat the boy’s own returns by more than ten per cent in any calendar year.’
‘But where would William get the money to buy a Rolls-Royce? He’s not allowed to touch the money in his trust until he turns twenty-one.’
‘I don’t know the answer to that, Anne. But I’m certain he wouldn’t have made the commitment if he could not honour it. Have you by any chance seen his famous ledger lately?’
‘The one given to him by his grandmothers?’
Alan Lloyd nodded.
‘No, I haven’t seen it since he went away to St Paul’s. I didn’t realize it still existed.’
‘It still exists,’ said the banker with a chuckle, ‘and I would give a month’s wages to know what the credit column now stands at. I suppose you are aware that he now banks with Lester’s in New York, and not with us? They don’t take on private accounts under ten thousand dollars. I’m also fairly sure they wouldn’t make an exception even for the son of Richard Kane.’
‘The son of Richard Kane,’ said Anne thoughtfully.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude, Anne.’
‘No, no, there’s no doubt he’s the son of Richard Kane. Do you know he has never asked me for a penny of pocket money since his twelfth birthday?’ She paused. ‘I think I should warn you, Alan, that he won’t take kindly to being told you’re thinking of investing five hundred thousand dollars of his trust fund in Henry’s company.’
‘They don’t get on well?’ asked Alan, his eyebrows rising.
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Anne.
‘I’m sorry to hear that. It would certainly make the transaction more complicated if William made it clear that he was opposed to it. Although he has no authority over the trust until he is twenty-one, we’ve discovered through sources of our own that he is not above going to an independent lawyer to find out his legal position.’
‘Good heavens,’ said Anne, ‘you can’t be serious.’
‘Oh, yes, I’m quite serious. But there’s nothing for you to worry about. To be frank, we at the bank were rather impressed, and once we realized who the enquiry was coming from, we released information we would normally have kept to ourselves. For some private reason William obviously didn’t want to approach us directly.’
‘Good heavens,’ repeated Anne. ‘What will he be like when he’s thirty?’
‘That will depend,’ said Alan, ‘on whether he is lucky enough to fall in love with someone as lovely as his mother. That was always Richard’s strength.’
‘You are an old flatterer, Alan. Can we leave the matter of the five hundred thousand until I’ve had a chance to discuss it with Henry?’
‘Of course we can, my dear. As I told you, I am here only to seek your advice.’
Alan ordered coffee, and took Anne’s hand gently in his. And do remember to take care of yourself, Anne. Your health is far more important than the fate of a few thousand dollars.’
When Anne returned home she started to worry about the other two letters she had received that morning. At least she was now certain of one thing after Alan Lloyd’s revelations about her son: it might be prudent to give in gracefully and let William spend the forthcoming vacation with Matthew Lester.
The possibility that Henry and Millie were having an affair raised a problem to which she was unable to come up with so simple a solution. She sat in the maroon leather chair, Richard’s favourite, looking out through the bay window onto a beautiful bed of red and white roses. She was lost in thought, seeing nothing. Anne always took some time to come to a decision, but once she had, she seldom changed her mind.
Henry came home earlier than usual that evening, and she couldn’t help wondering why. She soon found out.
‘I hear you had lunch with Alan Lloyd today,’ he said as he entered the room.
‘Who told you that, Henry?’
‘I have spies everywhere,’ he said, laughing.
‘Yes, Alan invited me to lunch. He wanted to know how I felt about allowing the bank to invest five hundred thousand dollars of William’s trust money in your company.’
‘What did you say?’ asked Henry, trying not to sound anxious.
‘I told him I would need to discuss the matter with you. But why in heaven’s name didn’t you let me know you’d approached the bank, Henry? I felt such a fool hearing about it from Alan for the first time.’
‘I didn’t think you took any interest in business, my dear. I only found out by sheer accident that you, Alan Lloyd and Millie Preston are all trustees, and that each of you has a vote on how William’s money should be invested.’
‘How did you find that out,’ asked Anne, ‘when I wasn’t aware of it myself ?’
‘You never read the small print, my darling. As a matter of fact, I didn’t myself until recently. Quite by chance, Millie told me the details of the trust. Not only is she William’s godmother, it seems she is also a trustee. Now, let’s see if we can turn the position to our advantage and make William even more money. Millie says she’ll back me if you agree.’
The mere sound of Millie’s name made Anne feel uneasy.
‘I don’t think we ought to touch William’s money,’ she said. ‘I’ve never looked upon the trust as having anything to do with me. I’d be much happier to leave well alone and let the bank continue to reinvest the interest as it’s done in the past.’
‘Why be satisfied with the bank’s investment programme when I’m on to such a winner with this city hospital contract? Surely Alan was able to confirm that?’
‘I’m not altogether certain how he felt. He was his usual discreet self, though he did say the contract would be an excellent one to win, and that you had a good chance of being awarded it.’
‘Exactly.’
‘But he added that he’d need to see your books before he came to any firm conclusion, and he also wondered what had happened to my five hundred thousand dollars.’
‘Our five hundred thousand, my darling, is doing very well, as you’ll soon discover. I’ll send the books around to Alan tomorrow morning so he can inspect them for himself. I can assure you, he’ll be impressed.’
‘I hope so, Henry, for both our sakes,’ said Anne. ‘Let’s wait and see what his opinion is - you know how much I’ve always trusted Alan.’
‘But not me,’ said Henry.
‘Oh, no, Henry, I didn’t mean—’
‘I was only teasing. I assume you trust your own husband.’
‘I would hope so,’ she said eventually. ‘I’ve never had to worry about money before, and it’s all too much to cope with right now. The baby makes me feel so tired and depressed.’
Henry’s manner changed quickly to one of concern. ‘I know, my darling, and I don’t want you ever to have to bother your head with business matters - I can always handle that side of things. Look, why don’t you go to bed early, and I’ll bring you some supper on a tray? That will give me a chance to go back to the office and pick up the files I need to send to Alan in the morning.’
Anne agreed, but once Henry had left she made no attempt to sleep, tired as she was, but sat up in bed reading. She knew it would take Henry about fifteen minutes to reach his office, so she waited twenty and then dialled his private line. The ringing tone continued for almost a minute.
Anne tried a second time twenty minutes later; still no one answered. She kept calling every twenty minutes, but no one came on the line. Henry’s remark about trust began to echo bitterly in her head.
When he eventually returned home a few minutes after midnight, he looked surprised to find Anne still awake.
‘You shouldn’t have stayed up for me.’
He gave her a warm kiss. Anne thought she could smell perfume - or was she becoming overly suspicious?
‘I had to stay on a little longer than I expected - at first I couldn’t find all the papers Alan will need. Damn silly secretary filed some of them under the wrong headings.’
‘It must be lonely sitting there in the office all on your own in the middle of the night,’ said Anne.
‘Oh, it’s not that bad if you have a worthwhile job to do,’ said Henry as he climbed into bed and took Anne in his arms. ‘At least there’s one thing to be said for it: you can get a lot more done when the phone isn’t continually interrupting you.’
Henry left for work straight after breakfast the following morning - not that Anne was sure where he went any longer. She turned the pages of a section of the Boston Globe she had never consulted before. There were several advertisements offering the services she required. She selected one almost at random, picked up the phone and made an appointment to see a Mr Ricardo at midday.
Anne was shocked by the dinginess of the streets and the forlorn state of the buildings. She had never previously visited the southern district of the city, and in normal circumstances she could have gone through her entire life without even knowing such places existed.
A small wooden staircase littered with matches, cigarette butts and other rubbish created its own paper chase to a door with a frosted window on which the name GLEN RICARDO appeared in large black letters, and underneath:
PRIVATE DETECTIVE
(Registered in the commonwealth of Massachusetts)
Anne knocked softly.
‘Come right in, the door’s open,’ shouted a deep whiskey voice.
Anne entered. The man seated behind the desk, his legs stretched over its surface, glanced up. His cigar stub nearly fell out of his mouth when he caught sight of Anne. It was the first time a woman wearing a mink coat had ever walked into his office.
‘Good morning,’ he said, rising quickly. ‘I’m Glen Ricardo.’ He leaned across the desk and offered a nicotine-stained hand to Anne. She took it, glad to be wearing gloves. ‘Do you have an appointment?’ Ricardo asked, not that he cared whether she did or not. He was always available for a consultation with a mink coat.
‘Yes, I do.’
‘Ah, then you must be Mrs Osborne. Can I take your coat?’
‘I prefer to keep it on,’ said Anne, eyeing a nail sticking out of the wall.
‘Of course, of course.’
Anne eyed Ricardo covertly as he sat back down and lit a new cigar. She did not care for his light green suit, his multi-coloured tie or his thickly greased hair. It was only the belief that it wouldn’t be better anywhere else that stopped her leaving.
‘Now, what’s the problem?’ said Ricardo, sharpening an already short pencil with a blunt knife. The shavings dropped everywhere except into the wastepaper basket. ‘Have you lost your dog, your jewellery or your husband?’
‘First, Mr Ricardo, I want to be assured of your complete discretion,’ Anne began.
‘Of course, of course, it goes without saying,’ said Ricardo, not looking up from his disappearing pencil.
‘Nevertheless, I am saying it,’ said Anne.
‘Of course, of course.’
Anne thought that if the man said ‘of course’ once more, she would scream. She drew a deep breath. ‘I have been receiving anonymous letters which allege that my husband has been having an affair with a close friend. I want to know who is sending the letters and if there is any truth in the allegations.’
