FIFTEEN

Driving away from his meeting with Fletcher Falcone,

Quinn shifted in his seat and felt pain shoot up from his knee. Only one Vicodin left. He needed more painkillers to study for upcoming law exams. If Dr. Swanson wouldn’t write him another prescription, he’d have to go cold turkey … or start shopping doctors.

But first he had to write a report on Leland Radford.

Quinn phoned the financial investment manager for the Radford estate, a man named Heinrich De Groot.

De Groot’s secretary answered, Quinn explained his call and was put through.

“Mr. De Groot, my name’s Quinn Parker. Fletcher Falcone suggested I call you.” Quinn explained his law school assignment.

“Sure, Quinn. How can I help?”

“Just a couple of questions about the Radford estate.”

“Of course …”

“I’m told you handle many of the financial assets of the estate.”

“Most of them. The purchase and sale of stocks, bonds and financial instruments, some tax work and such. I’ve handled them for some nineteen years now. Leland Radford was a wise investor. Had a knack. Did his research. But of course we advised him along the way.”

“His assets seem well-diversified.”

“Oh, yes. He has a strategically integrated portfolio of assets and properties. Lots of blue chip, high tech, U.S. equities, some non-U.S. equities. He bought IBM, Apple and Google very early on. Very profitable. Like his many other assets. You’ll find the full list at the courthouse.”

“I’ll check that. So after probate what happens?”

“The five other Radford business managers, and I, will work with the Executor, Mr. Falcone, in the final disposition and liquidation of all estate assets, according to Radford’s will.” De Groot explained that process in detail.

“Mr. Falcone told me there are no heirs or relatives.”

“That’s right.”

“Seems uncommon …”

“It is. Lots of one-child families these days. Had a client last year died with no heirs. Left her cat four million bucks.”

“Lucky kitty!”

“Lucky Kentucky! The state got the remaining twenty-three million dollars.”

“Amazing!” Quinn said.

He turned in at the gate to The Pines, the Radford estate, for his chat with the housekeeper. “Well, thank you for your time, Mr. De Groot. If I have more questions later, could I phone you?”

“Any time, Quinn.”

Heinrich De Groot stared at his office phone for several moments, then looked out his floor-to-ceiling window at the water fountain in the town square.

De Groot was suspicious. Always had been. But it had served him well over the years.

And he was suspicious of Quinn Parker.

Is Parker really just a student? How much does he already know?

And how much can he find out?