“A preexisting condition is preferable to the alternative, but it’s a question of degrees of legal jeopardy. We’re not in the clear yet.”
“If he died of an allergy attack, that’s not anybody’s fault,” Felix prompts. “Right?”
“They could still allege some form of criminal negligence.” Mervyn makes a note on his yellow pad. “Any basic safety protocols that weren’t followed, or a failure to maintain the property according to building codes, resulting in gross bodily injury—orworse. It’s more common in cases where someone tripped and hit their head or fell into a puddle of noxious chemicals. Things like that.”
“But our grandparents must have insurance? That’s like basic adult skills.” I lean forward, so the reassurance will reach me that much faster. “They have to know about that stuff from running a business.”
There is a pause, during which I sense we’re all reflecting on that crew’s aversion to anything smacking of admin.
“I want you to know that I care deeply for—everyone at Castle Claude,” Mervyn says, after a telling pause. “They had a formative influence on my life. Claude was the one who encouraged me to go to law school. I was working at the daily paper, a lowly general assignment reporter, when they sent me to review a show at this murder mystery dinner theater across town.” He lapses into a reverie, smiling softly to himself. “I was enchanted. It was hard to believe people like that wanted to bother with someone like me. And the chicken was outstanding.”
I nod, trying not to be impatient with this trip down memory lane.
“And then it all came full circle. By the time I graduated, Claude needed a lawyer to help with the contracts and tenancy agreements for their new home. Playing even a small role in bringing Castle Claude to life remains one of my proudest achievements. It’s easy to become cynical in this field, but Castle Claude is an oasis of beauty and fellowship in a cold hard world. I’d even imagined that one day I might have a chance to… well, that’s neither here nor there.” He glances around his office, but I’m not sure he’s seeing the cluttered walls. “If you’ll permit an old man to speak from the heart, there are far more important things in life than money and status. Art,for one. And love.” His mouth softens as he looks from me to Felix. “As I suspect you two already know.”
I’m frozen for a second, the mortification surrounding me like a block of ice. “We’re not together,” I manage to choke out.
“But I have hopes.” Felix reaches for my hand. I yank my arm out of range.
“What’s the best-case scenario here?” My tone is brisk, as if the last few seconds never happened.
Mervyn thinks for a minute. “Claude’s sister wins the lottery and moves to Palm Beach, and the Odell family spontaneously forgets your grandparents’ building exists.”
“I guess she can’t sell until the three months are up?” It’s one of the many thoughts that have been scrabbling at the back of my brain, waiting for their chance to worry me. “She already hated it, and then her nephew died there.” Even I’ve been spooked, and I adore every inch of Castle Claude.
“Correct,” Mervyn agrees. “And she doesn’t have the funds to buy into another development.”
“Wasn’t she married to someone rich?” I ask.
“There was a strong prenup. Most of his estate—including the family home—went to the children from his first marriage. And then she made some unwise investments. No, she’ll be looking to profit as much as possible from her brother’s passing.”
As if that wasn’t enough of a downer, Felix decides to ask a follow-up. “So what’s the worst-case scenario?”
“A protracted lawsuit that drags on until Castle Claude is bankrupt, at which point they’ll be forced to sell the building to pay their taxes.” Mervyn softens the words with a sigh.
I swallow, but my voice still comes out scratchy. “Could that happen?”
“It’s a tactic that’s been used before,” he admits. “Among the more predatory style of developers.”
“Like Bradley’s family?” Felix asks.
“We won’t let it come to that,” Mervyn assures us, once again sidestepping a direct answer.
“But if it did, they could lose the whole building?” I press.
Mervyn leans forward. “Not if I have anything to say about it.” I get the feeling he’s picturing himself riding up to Castle Claude on a white horse to joust with Grandma Lainey’s enemies.
I don’t want to crush his dreams, so I box up my freaked-out feelings for now. “What can we do to help?”
To my relief, he doesn’t give us the standardLeave it to the grown-ups.
“Encourage everyone at the Castle to keep their heads down. Their behavior needs to be above suspicion. They are but a humble group of retired actors, quoting Shakespeare. Going on garden tours. That sort of thing.”
“You want them to pretend to be normal,” Felix clarifies.
Mervyn nods. “A harmless community living quietly in an out-of-the-way building. Nothing to see there.” He smiles as I imagine a grandfather would, crinkly and comforting. “Remember you can call on me at any time. I’m here to help.”
When we leave Mervyn’s office, neither of us speaks right away. It’s a lot to take in—danger on all sides, but hey! It might turn out fine.
