Fall from Grace by Richard North Patterson Page B

for Teddy when she goes.”
    Hearing this made Adam wish anew that he could reach back in time, changing his father’s last year. “Did he say anything about another estate plan?”
    “Zero. Nothing at all about Jenny Leigh—or this actress.”
    “If the tabloids are right, she wasn’t here. Ms. Pacelli seems to work fast.”
    A quizzical smile surfaced in Thomson’s eyes. “You’re in an odd position, it seems. Your father’s executor; your mother’s son.”
    Adam breathed deeply, inhaling the crisp, tree-scented air. “‘Odd’ doesn’t cover it. That’s why I need your best legal advice. In confidence, of course.”
    “All right. Your familial position may be perverse. But your legal position is simple. As executor, you’re obligated to carry out your father’s will, ensuring that your mother and brother get nothing at all. Which, psychologically, must be excruciating.”
    “Only if I let it be.”
    “So you may be resigning?”
    “I’m considering my choices. As executor, what power do I have to investigate why he left everything to those two women?”
    Thomson’s keen expression deepened. “You stand in his shoes as a matter of law. So you, and you alone, can waive the privilege that prevents Ben’s doctors or lawyers from revealing their dealings with him. Including on matters pertinent to this will—”
    “In other words, my legal status is unique. Neither his lawyer nor his doctor can tell my mother anything. But I can make them talk to me.”
    Thomson nodded. “As I expect you’ve grasped, should Clarice challenge the will, her attorney would very much want to know what Ben said to his new lawyer, and how his doctors think the brain cancer might have affected his powers of reason. But these professionals can only reveal that to you. And, as executor, your duties are in direct conflict with your mother’s interests. Your obligation is to work with Ben’s lawyer, not Clarice’s.”
    Adam had the strange sensation of conducting a two-track conversation—the first track what Thomson could say, the second its unspoken implications. “But it’s also true, is it not, that I can gather information to determine whether and how my mother can break the will?”
    “For what purpose?”
    “To anticipate her strategy. So as to defend and enforce the will, of course.”
    “Oh, of course,” Thomson said with quiet irony. “You’re simply being cautious. I suppose there’s nothing to stop you, as long as you’re not passing information to Clarice. But, of course, you know that. Just as you know that Ben’s doctor and lawyer, like me, can’t reveal to your mother what they told you.”
    Adam smiled a little. “Just in case I visit him, what do you make of your successor?”
    “Young Mr. Seeley?” Thomson said with real scorn. “Hungry, shrewd, prone to legal shortcuts, and fundamentally stupid.” He paused, taking in the trees and foliage that surrounded them. “When I’m in this sacred forest, I should try to be more charitable. Let’s just say that Ted Seeley underrated the difficulty of building a practice on this small island, and that your father showed his usual keen eye for human weakness. Unless hiring Seeley was Carla Pacelli’s idea. I’d be curious to know if she was in the room when Ben and Seeley came up with this abortion.”
    With a sudden edge, Adam responded, “Whoever conceived it had an opening. Thirty-four years ago, give or take, my mother signed a postnuptial agreement renouncing any interest in my father’s property—including the house she lives in. As I understand it, that particular gem was your work.”
    “So it was.” Thomson stopped abruptly, facing Adam. “I represented your father. Given the nature of that document, I couldn’t advise Clarice on what to do—it would have been a conflict of interest. So I referred her to Ed Rogers, now deceased. Only your mother can tell you why she signed it.”
    “You don’t know?”
    “Not a clue.”