THE TAINTED TRUST (Volume 2 of The King Trilogy)

CHAPTER 68

         New York.

The menacing scowl Miles Dennis had feigned transformed into a broad smile. "Thank you, Louis," he said, extending his right hand across Visconti's desk.

Visconti leaned forward and accepted Dennis's hand. "What for?" he asked, puzzled by Dennis's bizarre and uncharacteristic behavior.

"For being there for Kerri. I can't thank you enough."

"I should thank you."

"Why?"

"For not being there. If you and Andrea hadn't been in Chicago last weekend, I would still be a lonely man."

Dennis placed both hands on Visconti's desk and leveled his eyes on Visconti's. "I want to talk to you about that, and I want you to understand how damn serious I am...Kerri's a wonderful trusting naive girl. I care for her a lot. Furthermore, I'm sure you're aware that she's just emerging from a terrible marriage. If you hurt her in any way, I'm going to take it very personally."

Visconti raised his hands in surrender and returned Dennis's stare. "You have nothing to worry about, Miles. Believe it or not, I'm more worried about her hurting me. You can't know how excited I am that she would be interested in an old man like me."

Dennis smirked. "Hurt you? Impossible!" he scoffed, then headed for the door. On his way out, he wheeled and faced Visconti. "I almost forgot to tell you. June crude's below seventeen and a half. There's at least another eight million in your margin account."

Visconti flashed a confident smile. "Just the beginning. There's going to be a whole hell of lot more in there, real soon."

Minutes after Dennis left, Visconti's secretary entered with coffee. "There's a call for you on three, Louis," she said, then placed the coffee in front of him. "It's Alfred Schnieder, from Zurich."

"Well I'll be damned! The old fart's still alive!" Visconti declared, reaching for his receiver with one hand and dismissing Sue with the other. He waited until she left, then pressed three. He leaned back and placed his feet on the desk. "Alfred, great to hear from you again. How are you?"

"Less than twenty-four hours ago, I informed Mike King that I am as healthy as a horse. Nothing has changed since then. And you?"

"Mike King!" Visconti exclaimed, agitated by the mere mention of the name. "What could you possibly be talking to him about?"

"...I'm sorry. I thought you knew."

"Knew what?"

"He has been smitten by pangs of conscience. He's asked me to dispose of the money in his trust."

"He what!" Visconti shouted, jerking his feet from his desk and bolting upright, implications blasting through his brain like rockets.

"He wants to wash his hands of the money and give it to charity."

"Jesus! This can't be happening. Did he give you a reason?"

"He expressed fears of being discovered, should word of its disposition be leaked."

"This is a fucking disaster! Did you make him aware of the alternatives?"

"Yes, but he was adamant. He's not prepared to consider any other idea. I have difficulty understanding his position. Given the same set of circumstances, I would behave quite differently."

Visconti's mind was in overdrive. "So what happens now? I hope he plans to inform me at some point."

"I'm sure he does. I don't think he has any problem with you. At least he made no mention of any."