Название | Lethal Justice |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Fern Michaels |
Жанр | Исторические приключения |
Серия | Sisterhood |
Издательство | Исторические приключения |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781420127775 |
“Mrs. Sullivan is a plain woman, not into frills and jewels. According to my information, she likes to cook and bake, loves her special-needs students, adores her children, and also likes to work in the garden. She prefers family vacations and usually ends up going alone with her two children. At this point in time I think it’s safe to say that Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan have a marriage of convenience. I wasn’t able to find any evidence that Mrs. Sullivan is aware of her husband’s infidelity. She stood at his side during Alexis’s problems with the SEC when they hauled her off in handcuffs for swindling all her wealthy elderly clients. It was Gillespie and Sullivan who raped the dormant accounts, forged buy and sell orders, and covered it all up by framing Alexis. Mrs. Sullivan never offered any comments before, during, or after the trial. She distanced herself as much as she could in regard to the media.”
“How much money did they dupe their investors out of?” Isabelle asked.
“Tens and tens of millions. I was able to find properties all over the globe. There’s a beautiful ten room house in Hawaii right on the Pacific Ocean. There is a high-end chalet in Telluride, Colorado; a working ranch in Wyoming. Mr. Sullivan has a yacht named Rachel, after his daughter, I suppose. Mrs. Sullivan doesn’t like going out on the water but Miss Gillespie loves the water. She goes on cruises with Mr. Sullivan quite often. I haven’t located all the properties abroad as yet. Monies have been scattered all over the globe. We pretty much have a lock on a lot of it.
“According to some sources, Miss Gillespie put pressure on Mr. Sullivan to leave his wife and marry her. It seems he agreed and would actually have followed through but after Alexis went to prison, he backed out. The firm of Sullivan and Gillespie appears to be in a bit of disarray these days. The affair may be waning but I have no actual proof of that. Mr. Sullivan seems to be spending more time at home these days.”
“If Mr. Sullivan is staying home, where is Miss Gillespie staying?” Nikki asked.
“At her pricey Watergate apartment. My personal opinion, for whatever it’s worth, is that the two of them are blackmailing each other. All the offshore accounts carry two names so they’re tied to one another,” Charles said.
Alexis squirmed in her chair. “How are we going to get them?”
Charles smiled and the women relaxed. “Myra and I have come up with a plan. Myra has an old dear friend who lives from time to time on a large estate in Manassas. Her name is Anna Ryland de Silva.”
“Not the reclusive Anna Ryland de Silva!” Nikki said.
“The one and only. She’s in Barcelona right now living in an exquisite villa. Myra and I visited her a few years ago. She’s reclusive, a tad dotty and very opinionated. She never gives interviews and no one has actually seen her in years. She travels—when she travels, which is rare—with an entourage. She stays in contact with only a few people: Judge Easter, Myra, and a gentleman friend named Donald something or other. Donald lives in an assisted living facility that Anna pays for. She’s incredibly wealthy. Her daddy was in railroads and then automobiles. It’s impossible to gauge her late husband’s wealth. Old Spanish aristocracy, that kind of thing. Billions with a capital B,” Charles said.
“How does all that help us?” Yoko queried.
“Think, ladies. With a little makeup from Alexis’s Red Bag of Tricks, Myra can pose as Anna Ryland de Silva. If she suddenly calls the firm of Gillespie and Sullivan and says she’s interested in switching brokerage houses, what do you think will happen? I think Miss Gillespie and Mr. Sullivan will pull out all the stops to get such a robust account. They’ll both lie awake nights trying to figure ways to plunder it.”
“Charles, you are just too clever,” Kathryn squealed. “That’s perfect! We scam the scammers. I love it! Alexis, what do you think?”
“I … I don’t … I guess I must be stupid. How can all this help me get my revenge?”
“We’re going to allow them to plunder the account, allow them to forge papers, allow them to do pretty much what they want, and then we’ll … we’ll nail them. Is that the right term, Charles?” Myra asked.
“More or less. Myra and I are flying to Barcelona at first light to … ah, nail it all down. We’ll be back the day after tomorrow. While we’re gone, you can plot any additional revenge you can think of. Whatever you come up with, we’ll manage to fit it in.”
“Why don’t you just call her up instead of flying all the way to Spain?” Kathryn asked.
“Annie doesn’t like to speak on the phone. She’s a little paranoid about things like that. She doesn’t believe in email either. Unless she’s changed her habits, she looks at her mail only every couple of months. Going to Barcelona is our only option if we want to enlist her help,” Myra said.
“Do any of you see a problem with what I’ve told you so far?” Charles asked.
The women said they didn’t.
“Then, ladies, we’re adjourned. We’ll meet up here the day after tomorrow.”
In the kitchen, the women declined the offer of drinks and headed out to their cars. Standing in the doorway, Myra reached for Charles’s hand. They both laughed when the girls started ribbing Yoko about Harry Wong.
“Oh, I hope she manages to find happiness, don’t you, Charles?”
“With Harry Wong?” Charles teased.
“Why not? She’s come a long way since joining us. Remember how shy and frightened she was. Now, she’s … she’s her own person. I hope it works out. Oh, Charles, this is such a fantastic idea. I mean going to Barcelona. We have so much to talk to Annie about. I do so hope she agrees.”
“My dear, I have never yet met the person who can refuse you anything.”
“Charles, you are just too sweet for your own good.”
“Sweet, is it? Well, old gal, we’re alone. Do you want to see how really sweet I can be?”
Myra giggled. “I thought you would never ask. Lead the way, my dear.”
Chapter 3
Myra walked out of the airport into the warm sunshine. She looked around at the busy passengers who were waiting for friends or relatives to take them to their destinations. She reached for Charles’s hand and squeezed it. “I do so love traveling. We should do it more often, but just for a few days at a time.”
Charles smiled as his eyes scanned the long line of waiting cars, hoping to pick out the one that would take them to Anna Ryland’s home. “We don’t travel, Myra, because you get homesick after three days. Ah, there’s our car. Come along, dear.”
The uniformed driver held up a placard that said “Rutledge” in bright red letters. Charles held up his hand in greeting. A moment later, their sparse luggage was settled in the trunk and they were inching their way into the moving airport traffic. Myra and Charles settled back for the long drive to Anna Ryland de Silva’s mountaintop retreat.
“I think Barcelona is beautiful but I don’t think I could live here. Anna loves it, though. It’s so hard for me to believe she doesn’t want to live in the United States. I thought … hoped … once Anna stopped grieving she would want to return to her homeland. Nellie and I miss her. This reclusiveness of hers is not healthy. It’s gone on way too long. I’m the living proof. Nellie … Nellie …” Myra threw her hands in the air when she couldn’t finish what she was trying to say.
“It’s