Dinner Party

Vases filled with flowers graced the center of each table in the great hall. The view of the bright green stems were distorted through the faceted glass. A few delicate petals, looking like colorful teardrops, dotted the glossy surface of the table where the maid was setting the last of the dinner plates.

As she picked up the fallen petals, I wondered how I was going to get through the evening. I nodded to the maid as she waited silently for approval. She left the room to help the cook finish the selected meal.

Roast beef, glazed carrots, and twice baked potatoes. A simple apple tart for dessert. All of his favorites. This dinner was a testament to a lifetime of business success. He was finally retiring from the empire he helped create. He was handing over the reigns to a board of directors, that had been hand picked to carry on his legacy.

The clock struck the hour and I made my way to the front hall. Guests would be arriving soon. The engraved invitations that had been sent out last week specified no gifts, but a small table had been placed near the staircase anyway, where he would make his appearance.

I saw headlights flash past the windows that flanked the door, announcing the arrival of guests. I took a deep breath and slowly released it, trying to ease the tension headache that threatened. The last two weeks had been a circus centered around him. Much the same as the last forty five years had been.

When I met him, he was a high spirited young man, eager to take on the world. He had the motivation and energy, but he was more of a follower than a leader. He needed constant directions to make deals happen. He reminded her of a toddler that gets constantly distracted by butterflies. He would get the job done, if he was redirected enough times and was given a clear list of instructions. Steady progress through the years led to promotions, higher salary, bonuses, and better office space. Until he finally made it to the executive level.

For the last ten years, he had been able to sit back and reap the benefits of a well placed and well trained staff that carried the day to day load. When the last CEO died, he was the natural choice to lead the company into the next era.

Tonight was a celebration of his life’s work. A grand gala to honor all his accomplishments. Gifts and praise and plaques all for him. Yet another day where he would be placed on a pedestal – casting a shadow. I knew what sacrifices had been made to make the light shine bright on him. Just the right

meetings, just the right clothing, all the right contacts, pushing all the right buttons.

Another deep breath, so that I didn’t run through the room screaming and destroying the beautiful decorations. The light shining onto the ice buckets, that held the chilling champagne, reflected from the bright chandeliers added to my headache. The room was perfect. I hated the thought of sitting through another evening listening to the praise for the monster I created.

As the first guests walked up the steps, I smiled a secret smile. I checked my reflection in the hall mirror as the door was opened. Drinks were ready to be poured in the parlor by waiting bartenders. Waiters had instructions to pour the champagne fifteen minutes after I start my speech. The rest of the wait staff were ready to circulate with trays of finger food.

Tonight was to be all about him, and in a way, it still would be. Just with a twist. I had placed note cards on the podium, filled with highlights of his life, and to bring to light a few things that had been swallowed by shadows. I would just have to reorganize them.

The door was opened by the butler and for the final time I plastered the corporate wife smile on my face and began greeting the guests by name. I had planned this evening down to the last detail, The events of this morning had only altered things slightly. A few phone calls and things were back on track, having only lost about three hours. I learned many years ago, that if you were flexible enough, things would work out for the best. Tonight was going to be a shining example of that.

As the last guest make their way to the bar, I signaled to a waiting maid to move the gifts out of sight in the library. I would deal with all of them later. The wait staff were making their rounds, the bartenders were busy, people were mingling. Things were going just as I planned. Now to set the rest of my plan into motion.

A few minutes later the guests found their assigned seats and the waiters began bringing out the meal. I took a long drink of my ice water, then slowly made my way to the podium. As I waited for the soft applause to stop, I arranged my cards. The guests assembled were the cream of business society. The entire board of directors and their spouses were here. Several upper level executives along with their significant others were also in attendance. Several retired employees and a few personal assistants, both past and present rounded out the attendees.

It was time.

I drank the rest of my water and gave my glass to the head waiter, who in turn, signaled the remaining wait staff to start preparing the crystal flutes for the final toast. My corporate wife smile firmly in place as the giant television screen displayed the photo of the oil painting of my husband, Anthony Allen Wilson, that hangs in the hallowed halls of the company that bears his name. As my speech went on, the photos changed. Him in his youth, graduation, our wedding, a few goofy vacation and company picnics just to make things lighthearted.

As the waiters distributed the bubbly, I wrapped up my speech. The waiter placed a glass on the corner of my podium and then they disappeared into the shadows. “Well, my time is almost up and I will step out of the spotlight and you can turn your attention to the man that you have come to know as the center of this company.”

“The man that has been given credit for numerous deals and mergers. In short, for making this company what it is today. Here he is.” Instead of the lights shining on the staircase just outside the grand hall doors, the television screen showed a photo of the man in a coffin, eyes closed hands clasped. At rest. A collective gasp echoed through out the room.

“Anthony came to me last night and gave me his revised will. He said that he was now in the twilight years of his life and he wanted me to have it all. He told me that I deserved it for being with him all these years. This morning, I found him dead. The doctor said it was a massive heart attack.”

“Well, to tell the truth, I do deserve it all. I was the one who guided him through every business deal from start to finish. I walked him to every client meeting. I picked out every suit. I set up every lunch meet and greet. I read every resume and instructed him who to hire and who to fire. In fact, each and every spouse in here knows exactly what I am talking about.” Every woman’s head in the room nodded in agreement. A few applauded. One woman, Mrs. Baldwin, clapped very loudly. She was the wife of the current president of the board, I had met her on the first day Anthony had started working for the company. We bonded instantly. Both of our spouses where of the same aptitude, eager but lacking direction. We had helped make sure each other got the things we wanted out of life.

“I would like to take this time to announce that I will be taking over my late husband’s position within the company. If there are any objections from the board, I would think long and hard about it. I was the reason each one of you were hired. I have read our private investigators files on you.” A few of the board members sat up a little straighter. “Starting Monday, there will be some changes.”

A disturbance from outside the front doors had a maid scurrying to open them. Red and blue flashing lights, from several police cars parked in the drive, bounced off the walls. A strong knock sounded and four uniformed policemen came in, followed by a handsome detective in a sharp suit. The officers each went to a corner of the room. The detective walked straight to me at the podium. He motioned toward the doors and two more officers came in and closed the large wooden doors, blocking anyone from leaving.

“Mrs. Alice Wilson, I am Detective Charles Markwell.” The man drew his identification card and badge from his inside coat pocket. “I need you to come down to the station with me.”

“What exactly do you need me to do at the station?” I noticed several of the guests on their cellphones, calling the company attorneys presumably. I moved my glass of champagne to the middle of the podium and held it between my palms. The condensation from the chilled liquid dripped onto my manicured nails.

“Ma’am, I don’t want to make a scene. Please just come with me. This shouldn’t take long.” Detective Markwell extended his hand to me.

“Why should I do as you request?”

“I would like to extend my condolences for the loss of your husband, but in light of a report from the medical examiner, I have a few questions.”

“And if I refuse?” I asked with a smile as I took a small sip of the golden bubbles.

“Then you will leave me no choice but to formally charge you with the murder of your husband Anthony Wilson.” The detective said in a loud and clear voice.

I thought about his words for a moment, then I raised my flute to the handsome officer in front of me. I drank the remaining champagne in one very unladylike gulp. “Very well sir. I will go with you.” I picked up a sealed envelope and my purse, from the low table next to the podium.

The detective took my elbow firmly, I knew I would have a bruise soon. The maid wrapped a cloak around my shoulders as we came to the front door. I handed the envelope to her. She saw the name written on the front and hurried away to deliver it.

I stumbled a bit going down the staircase. “Had a bit too much to drink tonight?”

“That is your opinion.” He opened the door to a standard issue police car and helped me inside, after he put my purse in the front seat and ran his hands over my coat and dress, to check for weapons.

I felt my vision blurring as he closed the door and began talking to a circle of uniformed men and women. His hand gestures seemed to be going in slow motion as I felt my heartbeat slow. I tried to take a deep breath, but my body didn’t seem to be responding. I could smell the musky cologne that belonged to the detective. It was nice.

I closed my eyes, no longer having the strength to try and hold them open. My head rolled back onto the head rest about the same time my heart stopped.

Detective Markwell saw the woman’s head lay back. She must be tired. He knew she had been through a lot today, but his gut was telling him that she was somehow involved in her husband’s death. He gave final instructions to the other officers and climbed into the squad car. “I wish you had made the choice to keep this quiet and easy.”

When he arrived at the end of the gravel drive, he glanced back at the elegantly dressed woman in his backseat and came to the realization that she was too quiet. She wasn’t breathing. He got out and opened the door and felt her neck, no pulse.

She was dead.

He radioed back to the station and they relayed that a medical team was on it’s way. He then radioed to the lead officer back at the house and asked him to detain the maid and the person who received the mysterious envelope. What had this woman done to her husband and herself? What was in the envelope and who did it go to?

Back at the house, Mrs. Elizabeth Baldwin, Betty, was in the downstairs powder room, when the maid found her. She had just finished drying her hands, as the maid placed the ivory envelope on the marble counter top and quickly left the room. Betty smiled, hoping that Alice had done her part of the plan. She slid a french tipped nail under the sealed edge and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. As Betty read the single spaced, typed lines, her smile grew wider. Promise made, promise kept. She opened her purse and pulled out a small vial of amber colored liquid and poured the contents down the drain.

Betty pulled out her cellphone and hit speed dial. “It’s done. Meeting will be Monday, first thing in the morning.” Betty put away the phone and ran a hand over her hair, tucking a few blonde strands behind her ear. Changes indeed will be made.