Suspicion of Guilt Read Online Free PDF

Monica didn't change that either."
    Bouncing her pen on her still-empty legal pad, she asked, "What did they have to say about the new will? I assume you asked them."
    "Sure. Monica asked me what I was bitching about, since I got a quarter of a million dollars. I finally got in touch with Rudy." Patrick's mustache lifted over a smile. "He told me to fuck off."
    "Nice." Gail kicked off a shoe and curled one leg under herself. She compared the signatures of Althea Norris Tillett on three of the wills, a bold, flowing hand. She studied the latest version. Mrs. Tillett's signature was followed by those of two witnesses, then a notary's acknowledgment, swearing that the testatrix and the witnesses had signed in her presence and the presence of each other. The copy machine had picked up the faint shadow of the notary seal of one Carla Napoli-tano. Then Gail must have let out a sound, because Patrick stopped rubbing his fingers across his forehead.
    She held the will up so he could see it. "Do you know these people who signed as witnesses?"
    He read. "Jessica Simms and Irving Adler. No."
    "I do. She's the president of Friends of the Opera. And Adler—I think he was once the mayor of Miami Beach." She waited for Patrick to respond.
    He sat silently for a moment, then pointed. "Check the list of beneficiaries. The opera's mentioned."
    She paged backward through the will. "So it is. Fifty thousand dollars to the Greater Miami Opera. I can see the headlines now. 'Elderly Miami Beach Socialites Charged in Forgery Conspiracy.' Not likely." She turned the will so he could see it. "Look at these charities."
    "What about them?'
    "Try to imagine a judge ruling against the University of Miami or Big Brothers and Sisters of Dade County." She raised her brows. "We still elect judges in this state, remember? And tell a judge that one of Miami's most respected probate attorneys took part in this."
    Arms skyward, Patrick abruptly stood. "Our American legal system. Oh, ain't it just grand?"
    "Come on, Patrick. The judge will look for facts to fit his opinion. We all do."
    "Then give him the truth." He leaned his fists on her desk. "We can get a handwriting expert!"
    "So can they! For ten million dollars, experts lined up from here to the county line."
    "Take depositions! Hire an investigator, I don't know. You're the lawyer."
    Gail looked at him.
    Patrick slumped, head bowed. "Sorry. I am sorry. This has got me so ... wired." He took a breath. "Gail. I need your help. I can't let those bastards get away with it."
    "Bastards get away with things all the time."
    "No. Not always. Not always." Then he came behind her desk and sat on its edge, taking her hand in both of his. "Know what I'm going to do with the money?"
    Gail shook her head.
    "Guess."
    "Guess?"
    "Sure. What did I always want to do? You remember. I talked to you about it. Said wouldn't it be nice if ..."
    She laughed. "You didn't exactly talk to me yesterday, Patrick."
    "I know that. Come on. Guess."
    "Well." She swiveled her chair. "I doubt you'd buy a yacht and sail to the Riviera."
    "Way off." His eyes danced.
    As she continued to look up at him, it began to come back to her. "You were going to ... something about building a new community in the inner city. Oh, lord. Patrick, you've got to be kidding." But he was still smiling. "What? You're going to drop ten million dollars into Overtown?" She pulled her hand away.
    "Not exactly. Anyway, there wouldn't be that much after the IRS took its bite. I'm thinking a bit farther north, up around Sixty-second Street west of Biscayne, where I work. There are some vacant lots, mostly overgrown with weeds, and some buildings that were burned out in the '89 riots. I've got some friends up there, and we talk about it. What if. What if we could clean it all out and start over. Put in some trees and a park. Build a community center, a medical clinic. Even a legal clinic. There are ten thousand attorneys in Dade County. If one out of a hundred donated