The Will and The Dog

“Pat, please read where I left off?” asked Mrs. Finch before wheezing and coughing violently

“And so, this is my last will and testament.” Pat began “I know none of you will understand nor appreciate my humor as much as I currently am. But I know that this all is for the best. Oh, and know that I now can die happy.” Pat stopped and turned to Mrs. Finch

“I stopped there, Pat?” asked Mrs. Finch

“Yes ma’am. All that’s needed is your signature.”

“Hmm,” Mrs. Finch hummed thoughtfully while signing “I want to add one more detail.” Mrs. Finch said reaching into her bed side stand drawer.

“What would that be?” asked Pat

“This picture, I had a nurse take it yesterday.”

“It’s a picture of you sticking your tongue out at the camera.” Said Pat

“Yes, yes, it is. I want to write a note to my lawyer, give me the will.”

“I’d love to be a fly on the wall.” Said Pat folding the paper and slipped it into an envelope along with the picture and addressed the envelope.

“Add that to my will.” Said Mrs. Finch “As a private note to my lawyer.”

“Are you serious?”

“Very.” Said Mrs. Finch with a smile on her face “A gift to you for being a friend to me for so long and in a way it’s a gift to me. After all someone should be there to enjoy the looks on my families faces.” Mrs. Finch then roared with laughter then doubled over with extreme coughing.

“Mrs. Finch, is there anything I can get you?”

“Yes, deliver that to my lawyer right now and let me get some rest.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Mrs. Finch shut her eyes and Pat left the room. Little did Pat know, that was going to be the last time she saw Mrs. Finch alive.

-∙∙∙ ∙-∙ ∙ ∙- -∙-

Three days after Mrs. Finch’s passing, all her relatives were called together by Mr. Preston Terbell of Dobson, Dobson, Smith and Terbell Attorneys at Law. 22 ferret looking individuals made the procession of family, if family would be the best description. No doubt Mrs. Finch would have called them relatives withdrawing sentiment from these 22 people looking like vultures circling a wandering, weakening morsel in the Sahara.

And then there was Pat who had come – as promised – to watch the proceedings.

“Ladies and gentlemen.” Began the nasally Mr. Preston Terbell “You all have been called here this evening – as doubtless you know – for the will reading of Mrs. Bertha T Finch’s will.”

“Yes, yes, can we get on with it?” asked Mr. Abbot who’s nose twitching made him a pigeon at any gambling house.

Mr. Terbell cleared his throat, puffed out his chest and continued, “The will begins like this:

My dear pigeon poop of . . . forgive the expression, family. You were all called here tonight for one reason. So, in years to come you couldn’t say that I was worth more dead than I am alive. For you see, I am in fact not.

You have perhaps heard rumors that I am worth some odd millions. A total that I even do not know. You are mistaken. As of today, I was worth 36 million, 999 thousand, 999 dollars and 99 cents. And yes, for those who are drooling and gaping, that sum was on purpose.

Now to the distribution.

Cousin, oh forget it, make everyone have to listen to my last words a little less to every single one of you I give 4.5 cents. How you get half a cent I’m not sure, but I take solace in the fact that you’ll have to scratch your heads about it.

The remaining money is being divided. Three quarters will be distributed to charities for which my lawyer knows, and you do not need to. The other quarter is going to my dog Winston. I was going to leave the Winston to one of you, but I don’t believe in animal cruelty, so I am giving him to Lisa, whom I’m sure you told to stay home. You all have always been mean to that girl, but she has a gift of painting. She’s the only artist who could ever make me look soft and kind. Not an easy feat as I’m sure several of you are commenting now.

And so, this is my last will and testament. I know none of you will understand nor appreciate my humor as much as I currently am. But I know that this all is for the best. Oh, and know that I now can die happy

And one last thing,”

Mr. Terbell stopped reading. Adjusted his glasses and lifted an enlarged picture of Bertha Finch sticking her tongue out at all who were gathered there.

“That is the end of the will.”

Before Mr. Terbell had finished saying that, the room erupted into confused babbling of anger.

Words hostile enough to kill a herd of elephants bounced off the walls. But Pat who was still sitting in the corner couldn’t help but laugh, first it was a chuckle, then a giggle, then a boisterous laugh that could be heard over the screaming.

Everyone turned to Pat in stunned amazement.

“Thank you all for entertainment that I haven’t had in years.” Pat said then left the room of angry relatives to Mr. Terbell.

-∙∙∙ ∙-∙ ∙ ∙- -∙-

A few hours later the 22 shocked and mentally disheveled clan sat in a restaurant, eating, and mostly complaining.

“We should have called her more.” Suggested Todd a wide-eyed youth with crooked nose.

“Or been there when she drew up the will.” Said Edith the shrewdest of the 22, someone who would stab a blind beggar for a dollar that fluttered to the ground between them.

“What if we killed the dog?” suggested Donald, Edith’s husband.

“I like it.” Said Betty whose bony fingers were drumming the table

“It would have to be done in a way that it looked like an accident.” Suggested Ray whose emerald green eyes seemed to physically glint with mischief. “And there are many poisons that would do that. The question is which one to use?”

Edith sat up straighter and leaned in slightly, holding on to every word.

“Hmm, yeah, I think I know how we should do it.” Said Ray stroking his chin “The question is how will the money be split afterwards?” Ray’s eyes swiftly glided over the whole company.

“Even split.” Suggested Betty hopefully

“Seems fair.” Said Edith taking a quick sip of water, trying to wash down that disgusting word – fair. One she thought she would never say without a joke following it but quickly forgave herself the absent-minded slip.

“I’m in.” answered Todd

“Me too.” said Donald

And before someone could have ordered a drink, all 22 around the table agreed to the plan.

“Lisa’s leaving for Europe in two days, right?” asked Ray

“Yes.” Answered Todd “To go look at art and study abroad.”

“Then I’ll do it tomorrow.” Said Ray

“How?” asked Edith almost squealing with delight.

“Not gonna say.”

“What why?” asked Betty

“Because, if either of you are asked. You can honestly say you don’t know.” Answered Ray shrewdly

“All the sudden we’re worried about honesty?” asked Donald

Ignoring Donald’s point, everyone resumed eating, drinking, and complaining ate and spoke of anything but that . . . dog.

-∙∙∙ ∙-∙ ∙ ∙- -∙-

12 hours later in the house that Bertha Finch gave to Lisa the 22 conspirators were sitting in the living room comforting Lisa over the loss of her dear dog.

Everyone in turn either sniffled or dropped a tear. Where the tears came from was a mystery to several of the group. For it was doubtful that the sly Edith ever shed a tear . . . unless it was over the loss of money.

“I’m so sorry dear for your loss.” Said Edith, whose shift it was to comfort the sobbing Lisa

“But Bertha trusted me with Winston. I loved that dog.” Lisa said through bursts of genuine tears.

“I know, I know. It’s like losing Bertha all over again.” Said Edith again dropping a tear.

“Excuse me Lisa.” Interrupted a maid

“Yes?” questioned Lisa

“Mr. Terbell is on the phone for you.”

“Oh, alright.” Answered Lisa rising

Hardly two minutes passed before Lisa returned.

“What was it about?” asked Ray

“Mr. Terbell wanted to give his condolences for the dog and wanted to see us all as soon as possible.”

“All of us?” asked Edith

“Yes.”

“Well let’s go, we shouldn’t keep him waiting.” Said Edith perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

The 23 filed into the waiting room of Dobson, Dobson, Smith and Terbell Attorneys at Law.

“Mr. Terbell will see you now.” Said the secretary leading the way.

“Thank you.” Answered Lisa still red eyed.

“Ah, Lisa. I’m sorry about Winston. I also apologize for this meeting; I wish I didn’t have to put you through anymore but . . .”

“That’s quite alright Mr. Terbell. What is the emergency.”

“Well, it’s not really an emergency. Just something that needs to be handled sooner than later. Bertha was a very smart lady. Not only was she smart she was wise about people.”

Lisa was the only one who looked puzzled. Everyone else looked like they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“You see, Winston is a descendant of Sir Winston Churchill’s dog Rufus, and being a pure breed is worth a considerable sum being insured for over 25 million dollars.” Finished Terbell, his eye contact never wavering from Lisa.

Lisa’s eyes widened and everyone else sucked in a breath of dismay.

“I have interesting footage here of someone sneaking on the grounds, with a piece of meat in hand and leaving a few moments later. Now,” Terbell interlaced his fingers and leaned in with authority “Who will squeal like the piggy that went home on the other 21 for a chance to save themselves?” asked Terbell.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. The only sound that could be heard was Terbell’s wall clock ticking the seconds away.

“Ray killed the dog, but everyone agreed to the idea and also agreed to split the money that we could get from Lisa.” Said Donald

Edith looked over at her husband with red hot embers of anger in her eyes.

“You idiot.” She seethed

“Anyone else want to fill in any blanks?” asked Terbell

“Yeah,” said Ray “it was Donald’s idea.”

“Why you . . .” said Donald

And before anyone had a chance to blink, a fight began but a shot rang out, the bullet lodging into the floor and Ray stepped back with a gun in his hand.

“You see, I doubt you have a security tape of me killing the dog.” Said Ray

“Do you?” asked Terbell

“Yeah.”

“Hmm, well you should have thought of that before you blabbed everything.”

“It’s not too late.” Continued Ray

“Isn’t it?” asked Terbell

“This revolver holds six bullets which translates into six lives. Anyone want to go first? Asked Ray “No, alright then. No one follow me, no one touch the phone.”

“No need.” Said Terbell “The Police are already here, and they were listening in on the intercom.” Said Terbell

“Yeah, right.” Flared Ray

Ray backed out of the office slowly and unfortunately for him, he turned to find the secretary which made his jaw contact with one of the police officers’ fists with more of a jolt then the police officer meant.

“Take him away will you Frank?” asked Terbell to the Sergeant.

“Yes sir. Pleasure sir.” Responded Frank with a tip of the hat.

“Oh, I almost forgot, did you hear all that?” asked Terbell

“Yes sir, and your secretary recorded the whole thing.”

“Excellent, you can take these 21 with you also.” Said Terbell waving over everyone except Lisa whom he then pointed to “She stays here though.”

“Understood sir.” Answered Frank beginning to herd everyone out of the room.

The door closed behind Frank and the family conspirators.

“Is all that true, about Winston I mean?” asked Lisa

“Yes, it is.”

“How did Bertha keep it a secret for all those years?” asked Lisa

“She was a cleaver lady. She entered Winston into shows without anyone knowing. She trained the dog right on the property.” Said Terbell significantly

“The training stable for the horses.” Said Lisa wide eyed “There were certain days that no one was allowed inside.”

“That’s right. Under the cover of training horses, she also trained Winston to be one of the most highly decorated show dogs.”

“What a shame.” Said Lisa

“Bertha wanted your family to be out of your way.” Terbell paused and slid an envelope across the table to Lisa “She wanted me to give this to you after the arrests.”

Lisa opened the letter and read it aloud.

Dear Lisa,

If all has gone as I expect it has, our relatives should be on their way to jail. Winston was a magnificent dog, but he also had a health problem that developed with in the last 6 months. He would have lived for perhaps another 2 months but not much longer. I did all this because your life would have been in jeopardy if our family were still free. So, I put this plan into action. My suspicion is that I won my bet with Mr. Terbell and that he will write you a check before you leave his office.”

Mr. Terbell at that moment removed a check from his checkbook and handed it to Lisa.

“Preston Terbell is a good egg; it was at my assistance that he was brought up as a partner. I made sure that he oversaw my account and that he handled it personally. I have never had an occasion to question his motives, honesty, or competency. You would be wise to run all your business through him and add him to your list of advisors. 

Now before I pin a goodbye, I want to tell you how amazing you really are. Shy perhaps but you soon will grow out of that. But you are a fine young woman. I wish I could hug you once more and tell you all would be alright.

 Be strong and courageous . . . He will never leave you nor forsake you.

Goodbye Lisa till we meet again. Much love Bebe.”

Lisa finished reading, tears streaming down her face.

“Bebe?” asked Terbell

When I was young, I couldn’t say Bertha, all I could say was Bebe.” Answered Lisa wiping tears away with her handkerchief

“Ah.” Said Terbell

“So now what?” asked Lisa

“Well, that is now all up to you. Millions of dollars, what are you going to do with it all?”

“Hmm,” Lisa hummed, still stunned

“I tell you what, how about you, my secretary and I go to dinner. Then tomorrow, we could try and conquer the millions.” Suggested Terbell

“I like it.” Said Lisa “I’ll pay”