Suzanne stepped out of the elevator on the thirty-sixth floor of an office building in Los Angeles. Her high heels clicked on the polished timber floor.
A mahogany nameplate displayed Wallis & Jones, Lawyers, engraved in golden letters. The silver-grey marble walls and crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling radiated success. After introducing herself, the receptionist, a middle-aged woman with grey hair and reading glasses, asked her to sit in the waiting room.
When Suzanne entered, a handsome-looking man with pitch-black hair wearing a light grey suit greeted her. She smiled back at him and sat down. Neither of them spoke. She wondered why they asked her to come to the office. Before today, she never heard of Wallis & Jones. Perhaps there was news about her biological parents. The door flung open, and the receptionist invited her to follow her to the end of a passageway and into a room.
“Ah! Miss O'Neill. Please sit down.” A short, bolding man greeted Suzanne and pointed at a big, comfortable, brown leather chair in front of an enormous oak desk.
The man could barely look over the desk, which made her suppress a giggle.
He introduced himself as Mr. Wallis and apologized for the short notice. He asked her to confirm her name, date of birth, and the names of her adoptive parents. After the formalities, he opened an envelope.
“Do you know a Mr George Jenkins, Miss O'Neill?” He asked with a stern face.
“No, she said. Can't say I do.”
Mr. Wallis frowned his eyebrows. “Mr Jenkins was a highly regarded and respected client of our firm. Unfortunately, he died in his sleep last week.” He paused and continued. “He left his will and testimony with us in which he leaves his estate to you.”
“What?” Suzanne’s mouth fell open, and she stared at him.
“I know why he left it to you,” the lawyer revealed. “I cannot tell you, but I assure you he had a good reason.”
He took a set of keys from his desk and handed her a document and pen. “If you can please sign here, I will give you the keys to your new home.” He smiled.
Still in a trance from hearing about her newly acquired fortune, she signed and accepted the keys and copy of the paperwork from Mr. Wallis. He gave her the address of the property and wished her good luck.
Suzanne got up, said goodbye, and walked towards the elevator. She was so occupied with her thoughts that she bumped into the man she had seen earlier in the waiting room. He walked with his head down and appeared annoyed.
“I'm so sorry,” she apologized to him. He looked up and seemed to realize they had
met before. “Oh, it's you,” he commented, “not to worry, I wasn't paying attention.”
He grinned. “Are you going down?” he asked.
Suzanne nodded.
“After me,” he said when the elevator arrived. “By the way, my name is Rob,” he announced when they stood
together in the lift. “I'm Suzanne, Suzanne O'Neill,” she replied.
“Do you live in LA?” he asked.
“Yes, I do, and you?”
“Yes,” he responded. In the meantime, they had arrived on the ground floor. They said goodbye, and each went their way.
Arriving at the house, Suzanne drove her car into the driveway.
The colonial-style house was majestic but poorly maintained. The garden was a jungle of weeds and grass not cut in ages. The path to the front door was almost gone. Dark brown curtains blinded the windows. When she got closer, she noticed the outside paint had also peeled.
Disappointed, Suzanne stared at the house for a while. She wondered if she could afford to have it fixed. And she hadn't even seen the inside yet.
As she walked towards the front door, she heard a soft "meow"! She looked around and soon saw a rather neglected-looking ginger cat sitting among the weeds.
It looked anything but satisfied. Where did it belong? She gently stroked the animal on the head before opening the front door.
The door creaked at the seams, and to her surprise, she found another freshly painted white door behind it. She tried the same key on the lock, and to her relief, it fitted! The door opened without any effort or noise.
Suzanne stared at the interior in dumb amazement. What she saw was incredible! It was like stepping into another world! She entered an enormous hall with a large spiral staircase in the middle. A dark, polished wooden floor contrasted the white walls full of large paintings. The treasures underneath the furniture covers remained hidden. A large glass dome at the top provided plenty of light in the entry.
After getting a grip on herself, Suzanne strolled through the house.
She discovered an impressive library with thousands of books, carefully arranged in color and size. The kitchen had modern appliances. In the living room, above the fireplace, hung a large painting of an older man looking down at her. Up close, the man's face looked familiar to her. She possibly imagined it.
An adjacent dining room featured a long shining table with chairs for as many as twenty people.
"Well, Mr. Jenkins, you know how to surprise someone!" she murmured. "What will it look like upstairs?"
Like a princess, she strode up the broad staircase. Once at the top, she found herself surrounded by several doors.
Behind each door, she found a bedroom, each one larger than the last and always stylishly furnished with four-poster beds, deep-pile carpet, and heavy brown curtains.
I should adjust those curtains, she thought. They are hideous!
Once back downstairs, she heard another soft "meow"! The cat waited for her.
“Ah, poor kitty.” She petted the cat again and picked it up. “You look so sad. What's up?” The fur felt warm, feverish. It didn't seem right. “Maybe I should take you to a vet,” she sighed. She remembered seeing a veterinary practice when she drove up to the house. She would go there. Suzanne locked the doors and carefully placed the feline next to her in the car.
She had to wait a few minutes in the vet's office before it was her turn.
When she finally got to see him, he said. “Who do we have here? Hello, Chester!”
“Chester?” Suzanne asked, amazed.
“Yes, it's Mr. Jenkins' cat,” the vet explained.
“Oh, that is why I found him in the garden at the house,” she responded. “He looked ill, though, that is why I brought him here."
“A good decision,” the vet replied. “Well, let's see what's going on.” He examined Chester and felt the belly, looked into the mouth, and checked the body temperature.
"He does have a bit of a fever," he concluded. "But I can't find anything out of the ordinary. I'll have to get some blood tested. I'll keep it here for observation. Are you related to Mr. Jenkins?"
“No, but he did leave his house to me after he passed away last week.”
“Ah, yes. I heard Mr. Jenkins passed away. He died rather unexpectedly. Mr. Jenkins always seemed quite healthy. He had not seen a doctor in years. All of a sudden, though, he got severe stomach aches and other problems. According to a friend of mine, he died of a heart attack in his sleep.”
He remained silent and then continued, “Why do you think he left the house to you?”
“I have no idea,” she said honestly. “I still have to find out.”
“Do you mind if I keep Chester here for a few days?” he asked.
“No, of course not. Do whatever it takes. Here is my name and address. Please give me a call as soon as you know more.”
“I certainly will. Can I say Suzanne?”
“Yes, of course.”
Suzanne blushed when he threw her a radiant smile.
When Suzanne returned home, she decided to do everything possible to learn more about Mr. Jenkins. It became more and more mysterious.
There was a message from Rob on her answering device.
She called him back and told him about her visit to the house.
“I'll go back tomorrow to see if I can find out more,” she revealed.
“I can go with you,” he suggested, “two pairs of eyes see more than one.”
“That would be very nice,” she replied, pleased with his offer. She could use some company.
The next day, Rob came to pick her up. To Suzanne's delight, he arrived in a red Ferrari. He must make good money.
“Please take a seat in my modest vehicle,” he joked, holding the door open for her.
“A luxurious car,” she responded, “rented especially for the occasion?” She gazed at him with challenging eyes.
“Of course,” he said, keeping her in the dark.
They drove to the house and he appeared taken aback by the poor state of repair.
“Don't let the outside fool you,” she warned him, “wait until you've seen the rest!”
Once inside, he didn't seem impressed.
“You're used to this kind of luxury, aren't you?” she asked, looking at him inquisitively.
“What? Oh, sorry, yes, I must admit, I am.” He sounded absent-minded.
“Let's see, what are we looking for?”
“Something that shows us why Mr. Jenkins left the house to me.”
“Good.” He took the lead. “If you take the first floor, I'll look around here.”
They each went their way through the house.
Suzanne searched all the bedrooms, closets, drawers, and blanket chests. But she found nothing to hint at a connection between her and Mr. Jenkins.
Then, she noticed a hatch in the ceiling on the first floor. She pulled the rope that hung from it. A staircase came down that led to an attic.
She climbed up and found herself in a large room full of dusty old books, furniture, and other things. In one corner, she saw several boxes with strange symbols on them. When she opened one of the boxes, she discovered old newspaper clippings. Suzanne sat down on the floor and began to read.
Most of the clippings were about Mr. Jenkins' business successes and meetings. At least she now knew his identity. Her eyes got drawn to a picture of him with another man who looked like him. After reading further, she discovered he had a brother with whom he had gone into business. An import-export company in art and antiques from the Far East. In any case, that explained the background of some paintings and works of art in the house.
The following newspaper clipping said: Jenkins Import-Export Company Goes Bankrupt.
Things got even more interesting when she read that the brother had committed fraud and embezzled money. In addition, a most valuable coin had disappeared.
A scream from Rob startled her. “Did you find anything?”
“A box of newspaper clippings,” she shouted. “I'll be right down.”
Suzanne put the clippings back in the box and took them downstairs. The other two boxes remained upstairs. Once she arrived downstairs, she saw Rob pacing back and forth in the hall.
As soon as he saw her, he asked, "So, what did you find?"
“Lots of newspaper clippings about Mr. Jenkins, his business successes, and his brother, who is said to have cheated on him.”
She looked at Rob and studied his face. “His brother looked a lot like you.”
“Don't be silly,” he responded. “Your imagination is playing tricks on you.”
He rummaged through the box and soon pushed it aside. He didn't seem interested in the content.
She found his behavior rather strange. At that moment, her eye fell on a crooked hanging painting on the wall.
“And you?” she asked. “Did you find anything else?”
“No, unfortunately, nothing,” he grumbled. “Listen, I have to go. I have another appointment. Can I take you home?”
Surprised at this reversal of his mood, she replied. “Yes, of course. If you have to go, you have to go. In any case, I don't want to stay here alone.”
On the way back, they sat silently next to each other in the car. He dropped her off at her apartment and quickly drove away, leaving Suzanne disappointed.
Just as she stepped into her apartment, she heard her phone ring.
She hurried to answer.
“Hello?”
“Suzanne?”
“Yes?”
“Hi, Clark O'Brien here, the vet. I have news about Chester. I happen to be near you. Can I come by in ten minutes?”
“Yes, of course. See you soon.” Slowly, she put the receiver back. Tired, she sat down. “What a day,” she sighed.
It wasn't long before Clark rang the doorbell.
“You have a cozy interior," he remarked.
“Thank you,” she smiled at him. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
Having poured coffee for both of them, they sat on the couch.
“I'm afraid I've got bad news,” he said cautiously.
She caught her breath for a moment.
He took her hand and continued. “Chester died last night.”
Silence followed.
“Poor Chester,” she said at last. “First his master, now he.”
“Hmm, yes,” Clark said thoughtfully. “That's why I wanted to talk to you. I found remnants of poison in his blood.”
“What? I don't understand.”
“I brought some information about the poison. Here.” He handed her a piece of paper.
After reading it, she sat in silence.
“I feel sorry for you,” Clark broke the silence. “It must be hard.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “But, you know, there's something else. Do you see this? She pointed to the document. “I saw similar symbols on the boxes I found in the attic of Jenkin’s house. What does it mean?”
“I don't know any more than you do,” he replied.
“What if a person ingests this poison? Is that also fatal?”
“At a high dose, for sure,” Clark admitted.
“What are the symptoms?” She wanted to know.
“According to the information here, it starts with stomach pain and........, wait a minute!” His eyes widened. “Didn't I tell you Jenkins had a stomach ache? That's quite a coincidence Suzanne!”
He clasped his hands behind his head. “I'll ask my friend, a forensic investigator, to run some tests. He may still have blood from Mr. Jenkins. After all, he investigated his death. But, strangely, he didn't find anything at the time.” He waved it away. “Perhaps this poison is more difficult to trace in humans,” he concluded.
“Either way, I'll make sure action is taken.”
He left Suzanne in a state of disbelief and amazement. What was she supposed to make of this? Her unpleasant feelings for Rob and Clark's strong personality confused her. She decided to take a shower and go to bed early. However, it took a while for her to fall asleep. All kinds of things went through her head.
The next day, Suzanne went back to the house. She wanted to be sure the symbols on the boxes did match those of the poison.
Once inside the house, someone sneaked up behind her. She heard a familiar voice. “Hello, Suzanne.”
With a jerk, she turned around and stared into Rob's face.
“What are you doing here? And how did you get in?”
“You know what I'm doing here,” he said gruffly. “Don't play dumb with me. I know you found it.”
“Found what?”
“The antique Spanish coin that my uncle had hidden. It's worth a million dollars, you know.”
“Coin? Your uncle?” Her jaw dropped. “So I was right about the similarity in the clippings. Your father was Jenkins’s brother!”
“Yes, of course!” he responded impatiently. “But I don't have time for this get-together.” He pulled out a revolver and grabbed her by the arm. He dragged her up the stairs without hesitation.
“We're going to the attic together, and you show me the coin!” He snapped.
She screamed and kicked around, yet there was no one to help her.
“Did you kill your uncle?” She gasped.
“Yes, I did, and if you don't cooperate, you'll end up the same. So, for your safety, I hope you find the coin.”
He pulled her into the attic.
Suzanne crawled anxiously across the floor to the boxes she had found. One by one, she had to empty them. More clippings, photos, and letters appeared, but no coin.
The last box contained an envelope at the bottom.
“Open it,” he ordered, pointing the revolver at her.
“Suzanne did as told. Her fingers trembled. She found only papers inside. Then she saw another envelope with her name on it.
“This one has my name on it.” She gasped. “Maybe it holds a clue inside,” she said, distraught.
“Read it,” he commanded.
She did as told. When she finished, she stared ahead in confusion.
“Give it to me,” he snapped, snatching it from her hand.
“Ah!” He roared with laughter. "You've finally figured it out, half-sister? Who would have thought?” He spat on the ground. “Your mother was a whore, nothing but a cheap whore. She couldn't have children with your father, so she slept with the one first at hand, my father! It's a good thing she died when you were born.” He laughed wickedly.
“You are an illegitimate child, Suzanne. You don't have any right to this house or the million-dollar coin. It's mine! Do you hear me? Mine!”
“You're crazy!” she screamed. “This will haunt you. A friend of mine already knows all about the poison and....” She couldn't finish her sentence. Before she knew what happened, Rob got punched in the face and fell to the ground.
“Clark! Thank God!”
But she cheered too soon. Rob was strong. He would not surrender just like that. Somehow, Rob got hold of his revolver again and pointed it at them.
“So, loving couple,” he grinned. “Two birds with one stone!”
When he was about to pull the trigger, a voice rang out.
“Not so fast Rob. Not so fast.”
He turned and looked straight down the barrel of a gun. He froze.
“Dad?”
“You didn't think I'd allow this, did you? Not after all the trouble I've gone to embezzle my brother's money. Of course, I let you do the dirty work, but now it's my turn. My brother may have been able to fool the tax department with his poorly maintained house, but not me. After all the misery, I have a right to his money and the house, not you!” False laughter and devilish eyes filled his face.
“Go on,” he shouted, pointing a rifle at them. “Down, all three of you, and take it easy. Suzanne, the keys, please. I'm sure there's one for the basement.”
She gave him the keys.
The moment he had the bunch in his hands, he looked at it in amazement.
“Well, if you ever! You've been walking around with it all this time! That old man had us all by the nose!”
He waved the key chain in front of them. “Look, here's the coin. You've had it all along, do you see that? Here's your million. Now you have it, now you don’t!” He grinned.
“Oh, but you're wrong. Lower that gun!” Someone shouted behind him.
“Thank goodness, you're just in time!” said Clark, relieved to see the strange man.
Suzanne looked at him with astonishment.
“When my friend confirmed that Mr. Jenkins' blood also contained traces of the poison, I informed the police,” Clark explained.
He smiled at her. “I had a premonition that you would return to the house and that whoever was behind the poisoning might be around.”
“Oh, Clark, I don't know how to thank you!”
Rob and his father were handcuffed and taken away by the police.
“Well, you do owe me,” Clark joked, putting an arm around her waist. “Don't forget your keys!”
The two of them burst into laughter.
The End
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