4th Musketelle
Three: The Plop Thickens
She had the unsettling impression that the world was closing in on her. – The Quandt Street Assassin, by Carlita Blade
26. Crucial Appointment
Henry glanced furtively toward the door of his home office and pressed the cell phone more closely against his face.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can ...” he uttered in a low voice. “Yes, I know what I said, but I just need a bit more time, things have come up.”
The petulant voice on the other end softened a bit, offering Henry forgiveness for the delay, but he would have to bring “something special” with him to smooth things over.
“OK, I will, see you soon.”
Henry terminated the call and breathed a sigh of relief.
“That was a bit unpleasant,” he said aloud.
He braced himself for the scene with Debbie and the boys and decided to blow it off a while by calling his sister first ...
“Yes, Henry, what is it?” Patricia asked the moment she picked up.
“Hi, Sis. I was just wondering if – ”
“No, I haven’t heard anything from Dad,” Patricia finished the sentence impatiently. “What’s the big rush? I told you it won’t help by pressuring him.”
“I know that, but – ”
“Look,” Patricia said, “I’m pretty busy right now. So if there isn’t anything else, let’s pack it in, all right? Enjoy the rest of the day. Go see a soccer game.”
“Okay, I will ... bye Sis.”
“Bye.”
Henry straightened his power suit, seized his designer briefcase, and left his office. He ran smack into Debbie and the boys. She was dressed casual and the boys wore their bee-like soccer uniforms.
“My, don’t you all look nice?” Henry observed.
“You’re not going to the game dressed like that, are you, Henry?” Debbie asked. “We’ve got to leave in five minutes.”
“Sorry, Hon,” Henry said, “but something’s come up. I have to go to an important meeting.”
“But it’s the semi finals,” Debbie said. “The boys will be so disappointed.”
“Yeah, Dad,” Ronny said, “all the other parents will be there.”
“We’re going to kill those guys!” Jeff said, emphasizing the statement with a resounding sock into an open palm.
“Are you sure you can’t reschedule this meeting?” Debbie asked.
Henry glanced at his Rolex.
“I’d love to see the game, you know that,” he said. “but these big clients simply won’t be put off.”
“Money talks, doesn’t it?” Debbie said.
“That’s right,” Henry said. “And the phone book’s full of lawyers if I don’t take the work.”
“Come on, Dad!” Jeff said. “You missed the quarter finals, too.”
Henry tousled the kid’s hair.
“Just make it to the finals,” he said. “I’ll be there. That’s a promise.”
The kid moved away, disappointment etched on every feature. Henry kissed Debbie perfunctorily.
“I’ll get back as soon as I can,” he said. “Good luck, boys. Score a few for me.”
“Yeah ... bye, Dad,” the boys said..
Henry left, closing the door hurriedly behind him.
“Thank God that’s over!” he muttered.
But was it really over? Debbie stared at the closed front door, unhappy and unconvinced. The boys started to rough house; she did not attempt to restrain them.
$$$
Patricia put down her phone.
“Henry’s going to screw things up, one way or another.”
She couldn’t do much about that. Neither she nor their father had ever been able to influence him much. Henry was his own man, or at least nobody else could talk sense to him. All of her objections had fallen on deaf ears. She had made them partially because she knew that Henry expected it.
He’d cut her into the reorganization plan as a ‘trustee,’ but she regarded this as a mere sop. He was out to grab control of their father’s business empire for himself. Still, she had to play along with him.
Patricia had nothing against Henny; he just wasn’t the person to take over Dad’s business interests. She was. Once she’d taken over, she’d treat him well enough. Maybe she could help him restart his political career, get him out of the way. But she had to be the one calling the shots in the Armstrong business empire.
If only she could get rid of Laila! That was the essential first step.