Chapter 23

I awoke the next morning with Shauna's soft form spooned against me. Her bum was against my penis. I found myself becoming erect. Shauna was still sleeping. I was torn between two impulses. I didn't want to disturb my girl's slumber, but I very much wanted her. I thought that a compromise might be possible. As slowly and gently as I could, I inserted myself in her vagina. I slowly and gently began moving in and out. Shauna gave a little sigh and something that sounded like a purr. I kept up the motion, ever so slowly. She began breathing more heavily and moving against me. I could tell that she was waking up. Our tempo gradually increased. I reached around her and gently stroked her clitoris. She push back against me very hard. She took a deep, gasping breath and let it out with a sigh. Shauna lay still. She had come. I gave one more stroke and joined her.

I withdrew. Shauna turned toward me. She stroked my face and smiled. "That was an incredible surprise," she said. "Can I wake up like that every morning?"

I grinned at her. "Then it wouldn't be a surprise any more. Let's just say that I'll surprise you semi-regularly. Or vice versa."

Shauna stroked my deflating penis. "Yum. I love vice versa," she said. She kissed her way down my chest, down my abdomen. She took me in her mouth. Within minutes, I was hard again.

This time, I laid her on her back. We made love in our customary morning manner. Gradually, our movements became frantic. I kissed her. We kissed constantly until we both came.

I rolled onto my back and pulled Shauna into my arms. "I've said this before, and I'll say it again before I shuffle off this mortal coil. You, my love, will be the death of me. Us old farts aren't supposed to do stuff like this."

"Bullshit," she said. "You have no idea what you can do. I mean to expand your horizons."

"Speaking of expansion, or rather lack of same," I said, "I'm famished. I've worked up a big appetite. I know that you're great in bed, but do your talents extend to cooking breakfast?"

She gave me a punch on the arm that was a little too hard to be playful. We got up, put on our robes and went downstairs.

Shauna made omelettes while I checked my email. There was an email from Herb Feldman. I don't know why I was surprised by this. I guess it had never occurred to me that rabbis had email. Herb asked if I'd stop in and see him when I was in Toronto. I replied that I was coming in today but didn't know if I'd have time to come by. I'd definitely call him as soon as I could.

Herb's email reminded me that among the bequests in Moe's will was one to Temple Bnai Israel. I resolved to ask Jerry Goldfarb when we could begin paying those bequests. Naturally, thinking about the reason for my visit to Toronto got me thinking about Moe. The old black bear of depression began to close in on me. My God how I missed Moe. He'd always been there with his wise advice, no matter how badly I fucked up. I'd never again be able to pick up the phone and hear him say, "What have you done now, you silly bastard." I loved him so much, and he loved me more than I ever deserved.

Shauna came up behind me. She put her soft arms around me. "Breakfast is ready, darling," she said. I lifted my head to look into her lovely face. She brushed a tear from my cheek. "It's Moe, isn't it? My poor love. I know how much you miss him." I stood up and Shauna pulled me to her.

"Oh sweetheart, I don't know what I'd do without you. Moe would have loved you. It isn't right that you never met."

"Come have your breakfast, Pat darling. We have a plane to catch and many things to do."

When we finished our breakfast, we got ready for the trip. I'd decided not to wear a suit. Lawyers had to wear suits, but as far as I knew there was no dress code for clients. I'd called the cab for ten o'clock. Our flight was at eleven. We'd be in Toronto by noon. The cab arrived a few minutes early. I grabbed my briefcase, checking again to make sure that the will was in it. We'd be home in time for supper, so the only luggage we'd have would be whatever Shauna brought from her old apartment. We headed to the airport.

The flight was, as usual, just under an hour. When we reached Toronto, we took a limo downtown. I dropped Shauna at her apartment and continued to the Toronto Dominion Centre. The TD Centre has long been a landmark in Toronto's financial district. It's a masterpiece by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, one of the greatest architects of the twentieth century. For many years, these towers were the tallest buildings in the British Commonwealth. Now, of course, they're overshadowed by many taller buildings in Toronto's core. However, the TD Centre is still among the most prestigious addresses for businesses, especially law firms and stock brokerages. Being one of the masterpieces of "Mies," as he's known, it was also designated as a historical landmark. It took almost an act of Parliament to change any detail of the exterior or interior of these towers. I figured that if Jerry Goldfarb had an office in one of these buildings, he must be a hot-shit lawyer.

Goldfarb and Associates was on the 49th floor. I took the express elevator up. It opened directly on a very large reception area. This huge room was occupied only by a several sets of black designer chairs with matching coffee tables and a large, shiny black semicircular desk. Behind the desk sat a spectacular looking woman. She appeared to be of East Indian descent. Her complexion was a light chocolate shade. Her features had the finely-chiseled look I've only seen on women from the Indian subcontinent. She wore a beautiful blue silk suit that did little to hide her figure. And that figure was quite impressive. Fortunately, she spoke first, since I doubted my own capacity to speak. She smiled at me and said, "Mr. Connolly, please have a seat. Mr. Goldfarb will be with you very shortly."

I did as I was told and sat down. Then I was a bit puzzled. She hadn't asked who I was. She'd simply addressed me by name. "How did you..."

"How did I know who you were? Come now, Mr. Connolly. Every literate Canadian must know your face by now. And dear Mr. Casselman was constantly talking about you."

"Good things, I hope."

"Mostly good things." Once again, she gave me that dazzling smile.

"I'm afraid that you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don't know yours."

Once again, she flashed that smile. "My name is Parmela," she said, "Parmela Singh. I'm Mr. Goldfarb's assistant. I work in estate planning. Right now, I'm sitting in for Tracy, the receptionist. She's taking a bit of a long lunch today. It's her birthday."

"Oh," I said. There seemed to be nothing else to say. We settled into an uncomfortable silence. At least it was uncomfortable for me. Just to make conversation, I said, "This is a very impressive office. What sort of law does Mr. Goldfarb practice?"

Again the smile lit up the room. "He specializes in business and investment law. However, since most of his clients eventually get involved in estate planning, he brought me in. I'm articling, hoping to specialize in estate law."

"Oh. So you're a lawyer."

"Well, I have my law degree. After articling, I'll be admitted to the bar. If I pass the exams, that is."

"I can't imagine that there'd be any problem."

"That's very kind of you. Of course, you haven't seen me in action yet."

The old Pat would have taken that as a challenge. He'd have taken it as his duty to see her in action and to find out just what was under that suit. I must admit that I couldn't help but be intrigued. I might be engaged, but I wasn't dead.

Parmela's phone buzzed. She picked it up. She listened and then said, "Yes, Jerry, Mr. Connolly is here. We'll be right in." She dialed another number. "Julienne, can you take over the desk for a while? I'll be in conference with Mr. Goldfarb." Parmela rose and said, "Follow me. Mr. Goldfarb is expecting us."

We walked down the hall. At the very end, there was a large double door. It opened onto a room that looked more like the library of a gentlemen's club than an office. It was furnished with what I would bet were very valuable antiques. The rugs were oriental and at least an inch thick. The outer wall was entirely glass and looked over the Toronto harbour. Jerry Goldfarb was doing very well indeed.

The man himself came from behind his desk to shake my hand. "Pat," he said, "we meet at last. I only wish it could be under different circumstances."

"Jerry, I agree wholeheartedly."

Jerry was about average height, perhaps 5' 8" or so. He was a bit on the plump side. His hairline was receding. He was, as befit his profession, dressed in a very nice suit, the sort that you can't buy off a rack. He was a bit younger than I'd have guessed. I'd put his age at forty-five to fifty. He said, "Let's sit down and talk. Would you like a coffee? Or a drink or anything?"

"No, I'm fine," I said. I sat in the proffered chair. Jerry sat behind his desk.

"I don't mean to be formal," he said, "I'm only sitting here because I need my files. Parmela, will you take notes?" She nodded and took out her Palm Pilot. "For starters," Jerry said, "I'd like to thank you for being so prompt in sending me the death certificates and the letter of authorization to act on your behalf and that of the estate. Those documents have made our job today much easier. Did you bring the will?"

"Yes, of course." I took the document from my case and put it on the desk.

"Excellent." Jerry opened the will. "We'll go through this in some detail. It's not necessarily pleasant, but it is necessary. However, before we get to that, I have a few papers for you to sign." He put two stacks of paper in front of me. "This one is the survivor's pension. Of course, Moe was at the top of the scale for parliamentary pensions. Moe's next of kin, specified as you, receives a monthly pension from the fund. As you can see, this will amount to some $5,000.00 each month."

I signed the multiple copies. "I had no idea of this," I said.

"There will also be a Canada Pension Plan survivor's benefit. It will amount to about $500.00 each month. Sign these also, please."

I signed in some confusion. By my figuring, my income had just increased by some $66,000.00 a year.

After I'd signed the papers, Jerry filed them. Then he opened another file. "This is Moe's insurance. He had two policies. This is the parliamentary group life insurance. You are the sole beneficiary. Sign here, please."

Once again, I signed multiple copies of the same form.

"Excellent," Jerry said. "Here is the cheque. What is your bank?"

"It's the Toronto Dominion. Jerry, this cheque is for $750,000.00!"

"Yes. That's why I asked about your bank. I'd suggest that we deposit it before you leave this office. Since you're a TD bank customer, nothing could be simpler, Their head office is right downstairs. Parmela, would you ask Mitch to get the necessary paperwork together? Pat, I assume that you know your bank account number."

I nodded stupidly. What else did he have on that desk? My question was soon answered.

"Now, this is the other insurance policy. Moe took this one out years ago, before his wife passed away. It's straight life, fully mature, and you are the beneficiary. Sign here, please."

I looked at the paper that he put in front of me. "This must be a mistake," I said.

"No mistake," Jerry said. This policy is for the amount of $2,000,000.00, payable immediately upon Mr. Casselman's death. The money is already in my escrow account. Upon your signing this in the presence of witnesses, I will transfer those funds into the account of your choosing. However, you should invest the money as soon as possible."

I signed the papers.

"Congratulations," Jerry said. You have $2,750,000.00 more than you had a moment ago. Now let's get to the will."

"Wait a minute," I said. "I don't know much about this stuff, but wills can take a long time to clear probate or whatever it's called. I don't have this money yet."

"Yes," he said, "you do. These funds are outside the scope of the will. The policies were not paid to the estate. They were payable directly to you. The money is yours. Now, let's turn to the will."

I was stunned, but I tried to listen as Jerry listed the properties and investments that were included in Moe's estate. Every once in a while, Parmela chimed in to clarify something.

"The house in Forest Hills," he said, "would be conservatively valued at..."

"About two million," Parmela said.

"Thanks. The vacation property on Georgian Bay would be..."

"About six hundred thousand," Parmela once again finished for him.

Jerry continued. "Moe's investments are something I understand quite well. I'd estimate their cash value at roughly twenty to thirty million dollars, depending on the stock and bond market. Now, there are a number of small bequests and some other properties that will be dispersed to members of the family and to charities, but, all told, I'd estimate that you will inherit between twenty-five and thirty million dollars, not including the insurance, which is already yours. Naturally, there will be a bit of a wait. The government is sure to insist on probate for an estate of this size. That could take several months. Parmela has suggest some ways that we can get it done more quickly, but it will still be a matter of weeks. In the meantime, you should find a good investment councilor. I could suggest a couple of names, if you'd like."

I looked at my hands for a minute. Then, I said, "Jerry, forgive me, but this just doesn't make any sense. Where the hell did Moe get all that money? The house I understand. He bought that place a long time ago, long before Toronto real estate values went through the roof. But where did the money come from?"

"Moe made every dime of it, and he made it honestly," Jerry said. "He founded this firm. When he was elected to Parliament, he put his law firm in the hands of his junior partner, my dad. He continued to have a major interest. It was in the form of a blind trust. Moe had no say in the running of the firm. The firm grew and prospered. Today, we're one of the leading law firms on Bay Street. We have branches in Montreal, Calgary and Vancouver. Our annual billings are in excess of... well, let's just say that we're one of the top ten in the country. When I joined, and eventually became senior partner upon my dad's retirement, Moe put his business interests in my hands. As you know, he didn't spend very much, a lot less than his salary. Most of what he made went into his investments and to charity. I made sure that he had the best advice and the best brokerage. Over the years, his money grew. I don't think that Moe ever knew that he was a rich man. Or that it would have made much difference to him if he had known."