The Ill Will

Lynwood allowed his lawyer entry into his study. “Lock the door behind you. I wouldn’t want the vultures to swoop down on us.”

         Vultures was the term he used to describe his family. It was not the most endearing title for one’s relatives, but neither would any of his family members, besides his dear daughter, could be called endearing. In fact, his ‘family’ was a bunch of distant relatives, all coming out of their hidey-holes when they heard tell that he was dying.

         It was some sort of wasting disease; a doctor had told him. It was something that started slowly and began breaking down his system until he was nothing but a frail man on his deathbed. But he was not at that stage yet, but it would not wait for long. Which was why he was now writing his will.

         He heard the sound of muffled footsteps outside of his study and groaned. It was probably one of his family members waiting to hear what his will would be before he was even in the ground.

         He motioned his lawyer to rise and gestured to a bookcase. His lawyer nodded, remembering the last time that he had been here. Lynwood pushed the bookcase aside and revealed the secret door kept behind it. They entered and shut the door, ensuring that any nosy ears would not hear their discussion.

         The secret door had been built years before, after his father warned him about their relatives that would do anything to have the many assets that Lynwood held. He owned four different estates, a stake in the newfound railroad, a bank, and a few other holdings.

         His lawyer took one of the overstuffed chairs. “I suspect that I am here because of the will.” It was a statement rather than a question.

         Lynwood nodded and sank into the other chair and slumped back. He could already feel his body growing tired and knew that this would have to be fast so that he could get in bed, though it was only noon. “You know that I am dying, as do all of my relatives.” He said the last word as if it was something bitter on his tongue.

         His lawyer nodded and a slight smile lighted on his lips. “I must say, they remind me of vultures, if you do not mind me saying so.”

         Lynwood waved a hand. “Oh, I quite agree. They are quite different from my daughter and I. Speaking of my daughter. I am writing my will now, for her sake. Everything, all my estates, all my money, all of my assets, will go to her.”

         His lawyer looked unfazed at this and nodded. “Very wise of you. But, you must know that it won’t stop your family from trying to use your assets on the pretense of helping your daughter.”

         Lynwood nodded. He had anticipated this. “Which is why I will be leaving Captain Shane Bishop Harrison as her guardian. He will know how to handle all of this and will not fall for the tricks of my deceptive relatives.”

         “Very good,” his lawyer said, and scribbled something in his notebook.

         Lynwood took a breath. “In the absence of my daughter, everything will go to Captain Shane and Mr. Dean Melvin. He is a friend I made in America, and has several holdings of his own and will understand the running of my companies.”

         Some more scribbling ensued and then his lawyer looked up. “It that all?”

         Lynwood nodded. “Just make sure that not a half-penny goes to my good-for-nothing family. They are all unfeeling and care not whether I live or die. And because of this, they will find no reward upon my passing.”

         His lawyer nodded and stood. He turned to leave, but Lynwood stopped him.

         “One more thing. Please make sure that they do not ever get their hands on my daughter. She is all I have and I need to know that she will be well protected.”

         His lawyer nodded once more. “She will be in the best hands, sir.” Then he left, out of the secret room and then out of the study.

***

         Five months later…

         A week after Lynwood’s passing.

         Charles Meade, Lynwood’s lawyer, stood before all those coming to hear the reading of his will.

         Captain Shane Bishop Harrison and Mr. Dean Melvin stood behind Lynwood’s daughter, Gwyneth. On the opposite side of the room stood Lynwood’s various distant relatives, who all looked pleased rather than grieved over Lynwood’s passing. Charles was angered by the sight, but took pleasure in the fact that soon their pleasure would be wiped off their faces.

         He cleared his throat and the room quieted.

         “I will now read the will regarding the estates and assets of the late Mr. Lynwood Graham Kelleigh. This is the statement regarding the transferal of all his assets:

         Upon my death, all my estates and assets will be transferred to my daughter Gwyneth Kelleigh. Captain Shane Bishop Harrison will be her guardian and the guardian of her properties until she reaches her majority or marries. In a case of her absence, the properties will be transferred to Captain Shane Bishop Harrison and Mr. Dean Melvin.” Charles quieted and waited for the inevitable noise that would erupt.

         He did not wait long. Some aunt or another spoke, “This is outrageous. He cannot possibly leave all his properties to a child of only two years.”

         Cries of “What about us?” and “How can this be?” were added to the mix. Charles just smiled. Lynwood had been right about his relatives. They were all greedy and money-hungry.

         Charles spoke again. “I can assure you that everything in this will is legal and properly written. But I do have something I was told to give you, his relatives, upon his death.”

         The excitement once again played across their faces. But it would not be there for long.

         Charles opened the letter and cleared his throat. “Dear distant relatives, I must thank you for your being with me through my illness and my death. As a reward, I leave you with…”

         Charles paused for dramatic effect. “I leave you with a word. Kindness given is often repaid with kindness. For the lack of kindness, you have given me and my daughter, I leave you with absolutely nothing, but a disappoint that you no doubt feel right now. Perhaps you should be nicer when dealing with the person who is writing the will that could affect you. Yours truly, Lynwood.”