|
|
|
|
|
|
|
into a euphoric turmoil. He was experiencing an exhilaration unlike anything he had ever experienced before. "Tell me, Mr. Lawyer, how soon can I get my hands on some of that money?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Charlie was oblivious to the man's look of disdain. "There is a procedure, of course," he said primly. "I will have to notify the Board of Directors of Frazier that the will of their late chairman so stipulates that you are the legal heir to your brother's assets." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Tell me again about this Portland Foundation," Charlie suddenly blurted. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"The Portland Foundation should really be of no concern to you, Mr. Frazier. The Foundation gets nothing as long as you are alive." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Maybe they get it, maybe they don't. I don't know who the hell they even are, but you can tell them I have every intention of hauling their ass to court to get that codicil overturned." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"That would be a long and arduous undertaking," the lawyer said. "But, of course, that's entirely within your rights. It could be in the courts for years." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"But who the hell are they?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Quite simply, Mr. Frazier, they were your late father's favorite charity. He was involved with them his entire life. When he passed on, the Foundation lost a true friend." |
|
|
|
|
|