The Death File by J A Kerley

Author:J A Kerley [Kerley, J A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008263751
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2017-09-22T04:00:00+00:00

25

Adam was in his room tapping away at his computer, his fingers a blur. Isbergen walked in, a bottle of Diet Pepsi in hand.

“Cottrell just called. He’d like to see us at one. It’s when his secretary or whatever is at lunch. I don’t think he wants anyone to see us at his office. It makes sense if he’s going to go for our idea.”

“How can you be so sure, Zoe?”

“Intuition.”

“If this doesn’t work I’m gonna have to get a fucking job at Google or some shit. Hashtag: screwed.”

Isbergen kissed the top of Kubiac’s head. “Don’t gloom out on me, babe. I think you’re gonna win.”

Isbergen and Kubiac were at the lawyer’s officer at a minute past one, Cottrell gesturing them inside after locking the front door. Isbergen took the chair and Kubiac, per usual, dropped to the couch.

Here we go, kid, Cottrell thought, offering a concerned visage. “Nothing good can come of you getting cut out of your father’s will, Adam. Not good for Eli’s lifelong reputation as an automotive leader; nor for you, lacking any inheritance and spending the rest of your life hating your father.”

“It seems right,” Kubiac snapped. “He hated me.”

No, you little self-absorbed brat. He just couldn’t understand you …

“I firmly believe that he didn’t, Adam, but that’s neither here nor there.”

Cottrell stood and rocked on his heels, his eyes deep in thought, seemingly on the verge of a momentous decision. “It goes against everything I believe,” he said, his voice somber. “But I have never been in a position where someone has been treated so unfairly before. I believe in the ultimate triumph of justice, but this is triumphantly unjust.”

Did I just say that? Fucking Cicero!

Isbergen leaned forward. “Excuse me, Mr Cottrell, are you saying …?”

“It can be done,” he said softly, a man not yet convinced. “I can effect changes in the will.” He paused. “I can fix it so Adam receives everything.”

Kubiac didn’t appear to understand, his mouth drooped open and head cocked. The kid was a dolt who somehow understood computers.

“But … isn’t this very, uh, risky for you?” Isbergen said. “Like way against the law?”

Glad you asked that, little lady …

“It imperils everything I’ve worked for,” Cottrell said, his eyes filling with concern. “My license to practice law. My firm. My reputation. Even worse, I imperil my freedom. If caught I would end up in prison for changing Eli’s will. And when I finally returned to society, I’d be a broken and penniless old man.”

The sleepy-eyed kid looked wide awake now, Daddy’s money a $20,000,000 dose of smelling salts. Cottrell’s eyes shot to Isbergen’s for a split second, then returned to Kubiac. “I will take care of you, Adam. That’s my decision. What do you say?”

The kid looked lost for a moment. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome. But you also have to take care of me, right? So before I, um, revisit the will, I’ll need you to sign a document.”

Kubiac frowned. “What does it say?”

“First, it puts this firm in charge of all your upcoming legal work.

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