Chapter 17

That night Caitie and Bill spent their first night in their apartment together. Caitie simply adored it and everything about it. Pasha and Shari were utterly perfect companions, too. The next morning they worked out in the penthouse’s gym, swam laps in what proved to be a full-sized Olympic swimming pool — 50 meters by 8 lanes in width — and then put on shorts and tank tops for a run in the park.

Running with a pair of tigers proved to be something else indeed. After covering about three miles, the pair realized that they had had enough, while the tigers were scarcely warmed up. Then Caitie had an idea. She mounted Shari’s back and Bill got on Pasha. Not only did the tigers not mind, they utterly loved it claiming that carrying the extra weight provided them with more exercise.

It ended with Caitie gleefully practicing ballet positions while Shari smoothly raced along beneath her. Shari was so smooth-gaited, in fact, that the rush of air was Caitie’s only sense of motion. For his part, Bill just lay on his back and used the back of Pasha’s head as a headrest while he took a nap.

Going up in the elevator together, all four were truly elated. Shari was utterly beside herself with joy, claiming it was the best exercise she had ever had. Then she pretended to glare at Pasha and said, “Master Bill ate out Caitie’s lovely cunt this morning, and she gave him the blowjob to end all blowjobs. But what’s wrong with you? Husband, I desperately need to be fucked!”

He nuzzled his wife and murmured, “You do, huh? And how would my gorgeous wife care to be fucked this morning?”

“This morning I’m a young virgin tigress about to be raped!” Then she added, “It’s really neat that the apartment is up so high. People will be able to hear my screams of terror for miles!”

Back in the apartment, Pasha led the way out to the terrace where indeed he proceeded to rape the virgin. Bill and Caitie watched for a bit and then shared a loving shower and a bath.

Since Caitie refused to dress, Bill didn’t either. The two went out to the kitchen expecting to find Bill Noble preparing breakfast, but he wasn’t there. The two looked at each other, sharing the same thought, then raced to Noble’s apartment. Bill’s eyes widened when he found the door unlocked. Entering, they encountered silence.

“Uh, oh,” Bill murmured. “I don’t like this!”

Going back to his bedroom, they found Bill Noble lying in bed on his back. He was dead, but there was the most gloriously happy smile on his face that either had ever seen.

“He’s with his Ellen at last...” Caitie murmured with tears in her eyes. “Such a wonderful guy. I should say it’s a shame, but I really can’t. Now he’s truly happy.” Then grinning through her tears she asked, “I wonder how many times he’s fucked Ellen by now?”

“He knew it was coming,” Bill commented. He had found a note addressed to him along with an opened steel lockbox, about the size people use to store insurance policies.

Opening the letter, Bill began to read. Then he shook his head and said, “It’s so much like Bill! The very first thing he does is apologize for dying right before our wedding and expresses the hope that it won’t cause any change in our plans. Then he apologizes for the work he’s creating.”

As he continued to read, his eyes widened and he went to the metal box. At the bottom he found a cross-shaped medal which he pulled out and held up to Caitie. Tears were running from his eyes and down his cheeks as he did.

The medal was a dark gunmetal color hanging on a crimson silk suspender. “What is it?” she asked softly.

“Darling, this is the Victoria Cross, the highest award for gallantry in the British Empire!” He turned it over and found engraved, “William Noble, Royal Welsh Fusiliers, 16 Jan 1945”. “I never knew,” Bill murmured, “and I know my parents didn’t either.”

He paused and then continued, “He expressed the wish to be buried beside his wife, Ellen, in a small town near Cambridge. But there must be something more. Only about 1,500 awards of this medal have ever been made in history. I’m sure there’s more...”

Bill called 911 for an ambulance but notified the dispatcher that he was an MD and an emergency medicine specialist, assuring her that there was no rush; the patient was dead. Slowly they returned to their apartment with mixed feelings: Sadness at the loss of a dear friend, and yet happiness at his rejoining the wife after a 55-year separation when they had been together for a scant two weeks.

Neither were feeling very hungry. Bill was thinking about arrangements for Noble and then snapped his fingers when an idea came to him. “Kate Cornwall!” he exclaimed.

“What about Kate?” Caitie asked.

“She has the best connections of anyone in New York,” he replied. “I’ll bet she’ll have some ideas. Would you call her please, darling?” he asked.

Caitie did and, to her surprise, reached her immediately. After quickly explaining what had happened, Kate said she would be right over.

Just then they received a call from the lobby. The ambulance had arrived, and the team of EMTs went back to Noble’s room. The senior looked at Noble’s face and murmured, “He looks so happy! What happened?”

“It’s what’s happening,” Caitie said softly. “He’s finally rejoined his wife after only two weeks of marriage and a 55-year separation.” Quickly she told them Noble’s story and concluded by saying, “He holds the Victoria Cross, the British equivalent of our Medal of Honor. Try to remember that as his body is handled, please?”

The younger EMT murmured, “The Greatest Generation. And he was one of the greatest of the great.”

And they did handle the body with utmost care and consideration. As they left, they assured Caitie and Bill that the story would be passed on so everyone concerned would know.

With the body removed, they returned to the kitchen and Bill continued going through Noble’s papers. Then in a completely flat tone of voice he said, “By the way, Caitie ... You’re rich.”

“I’m what?” Caitie asked, not certain she heard him correctly.

“You’re rich,” Bill repeated. “First, you’re the named beneficiary of a $5-million life insurance policy. And you’re also the sole beneficiary of his estate, and it looks like there’s a few million more in savings and mutual funds.” He looked at Caitie and said, “Bill Noble loved you very much, darling. He said you were the first girl he ever met who was like his Ellen. And I guess that says it all. You know how he felt about Ellen.”

“For that matter, Dr. Corcoran, how do I know you’re not just marrying me for my money? You have some, but how much?” Caitie tried to glare at him, but couldn’t keep her eyes from dancing.

Bill grinned at her and then got a piece of paper and a pencil. “Now, little girl, let’s see how good you are in arithmetic. First, make a dollar sign near the left edge of the paper.”

Acting like a four-year-old, Caitie even stuck her tongue from the corner of her mouth to indicate concentration and then painfully formed a dollar sign. With her eyes wide and dancing she looked up at him and asked, “Is this okay?”

“That’s fine, little girl,” he grinned. “Now, can you make the number five right after it?”

This time Caitie really made a production out of it, even erasing the horizontal line at the top of the five when her first attempt sloped steeply downward. Proudly she held up the paper for his inspection.

“Good girl!” he praised, vainly trying to keep the sarcasm from his voice. “Now make a zero next to it.”

She did.

“Now, little girl, it’s important that you learn how to make zeros properly. So make another ... and another ... and another...”

“How many?” Caitie asked looking up at him.

“Oh ... a total of ten would be about right, I guess,” Bill replied with his eyes dancing.

Caitie’s playacting ended abruptly. She quickly made a total of 10 zeros and then put commas in. “Bill,” she gasped, “this is fifty billion dollars! That can’t be right.”

“My accountants are really going to be pissed when I tell them that you don’t think they can count.” Then he added, “Honey, it’s really an approximation. A lot of what I own isn’t very liquid.”

“If you needed cash in a hurry — say within a week — how much could you get? Of your own, I mean, not borrowed money,” she pursued.

“Within a week?” Bill commented thoughtfully. “Between twenty and thirty ... billion ... I guess.”

With her eyes bright and dancing, she looked up at him and said, “Does that mean ... I can buy hamburger... ? When it’s not even on sale?”