The Poisoned Inheritance

John felt everything was mocking him. His mother on her deathbed laughed out of the corner of her mouth. She couldn't speak anymore. She just muttered inaudible rubbish. The budgie in the living room cackled something he'd taught it years ago. John couldn't remember what it was because his mind wasn't working properly.

He grabbed the knife from the dresser. Tony her best friend had stood beside him at her bedside. When John grabbed the knife, Tony backed away. ‘Easy tiger, he said. ‘Put the knife down please. I understand you've had bad luck recently. Yes Milly took you for everything but your mother will look after you. Yes, your bitch of a wife nearly ruined you, but I will help you back to normality. Just put it down and we’ll talk.’

As if she understood what was happening, his mother’s mouth began moving, but no words came out. John put the knife back on the dresser. He gave Tony a menacing look. Tony's face was full of fear. John moved in to her bookcase on his right, and grabbed paper and pen, put it on top of the book, and walked back to his mother. He handed it to her with the pen on top. ‘Write mother, ‘he said.

She scribbled a few words. John examined the paper. It read.’ Your father’s still alive. ’She jabbered on to him for ten minutes with what she thought were words but really were just nonsense. Still John felt close to her. He demanded to know. ‘Who is my father?’ Where does he live?’ But she couldn’t tell him. This made him so furious that in a moment of madness he put both hands around her throat and started to choke her, but feeling her limp, lifeless, body, he realized she was already gone. He grabbed the knife from the dresser. He put it to his throat. Tony who he hadn’t noticed the whole time he was with his mother tried to intervene.

‘She’s gone John. We don’t want to lose you too. Please put the knife down. I will call this dodgy debt-collection agency. I’m hope under the circumstances they will give you a few weeks Grace.’ He smiled thinly. Milly might come back. The guy she left with was a real plonker. He had tats allover his body.’ John slashed at his left hand. He only grazed his flesh. He drew a trickle of blood. Looking annoyed, he put the knife close to his throat ready for one last thrust.

Tony yelled at full volume. ‘I WILL tell you who YOUR FATHER is! Just give me the knife!’ John stayed still for a moment. He thought things through. Then he put back the knife on the dresser. ‘Ok, said John. I’m listening.’ Tony shrugged. He walked to the mother’s drawer and pulled out a letter. ‘She told me to give this to you if something happened to her. I think she knew her time was up. John walked over to Tony.’ Read it to me please. I must know who he is!’ Tony straightened the letter and read in an even, educated voice.

70 Radcliffe Road
Blackmore end, CM7
Essex
20-04-1968

Dear John

If you are reading this letter, it means I have passed on into the next life. I don’t want you to morn me, but I want to correct the lie that I told you about your father being dead. He did not die. Please forgive the lie because I did it to protect you from the devil: the ‘pure evil’ that is your father.

When you were born, in London, he sent us away to this place we’re in now, without saying goodbye, we didn’t even have a dollar to our names. He’d been away at the war, you see, and I’d lain with another man, which later produced you. He beat me, and I thought at one point, he was going to murder you, but I stopped him. I hitchhiked here to Sussex with you in my arms. All these years, I have written to him asking him for support, as I’ve had to do backbreaking work merely to survive, he didn’t send me as much as a penny. Your father is one of wealthiest men in all of England. His name is Lord Beckham Montgomery.

As I’ve said, I wrote to him many times and he wasn’t interested in giving support, or who you were becoming growing up. Just lately, as you are aware, I have become seriously ill. One week ago, lying on my bed, which has become my deathbed, Tony, who is such a great friend to me, came in with a letter. It was from Beckham. Or rather Beckham’s lawyer.

Beckham was dead. On his deathbed, converting to Christianity, he realized his mistake in shutting you out of his life. As he was dying, he decided to change his will, and rang for his lawyer, who always on call, arrived immediately. Having no heir, his massive fortune was left to charity. With his spiritual awakening , however, in front of his lawyer, he changed his will. He left his entire fortune: $700,000,000 USD, to you. There is a inheritance acceptance form enclosed for you to sign if you so wish.

I know you think this is a gift horse to solve all your problems, so you will never have to work again, and live a life of power and privilege. I would however urge you not to accept the inheritance as it is tainted with who your father has become.
When I was with your father, he was a good man with good values, and morals. As soon as he put us on the street, he gradually built a criminal empire of money laundering, gambling, and prostitution. He became an evil-crime boss, who used his money, power, and influence to protect him from the law. He became such that he was above the law.

So I implore you not to take his dirty money, which even if laundered clean will be infected by the disease of where it derived from. You will be looking over your shoulder waiting for the police to stop you, and rummage through your bank account. They will ask you where you obtained such a fortune. Some of his money is legit, but how will you ever know which? I think son you are too smart to take his poisoned cash. I suggest you tear up the inheritance acceptance form included in this letter. Remember I love you and look forward to meeting again in the afterlife!

Tony passed John the acceptance form. He said,’ I seriously recommend you spend at least a few weeks thinking about this before signing. It won’t be the solution to your massive debt. These loan sharks won’t be happy if you pay them with dirty money.’ John nodded, hesitantly.

They reconvened to the living room table with the acceptance form in tow. Tony made them both a cup of coffee while they discussed the situation.
‘I have to use the toilet,’ said Tony. There was a knock at the door. ‘Oh bugger.' He opened up. A man in a cheap-white suit burst past Tony.

He had a commanding presence despite his diminutive frame. Tony followed him to John, who was slumped at the dining room table, gripping the acceptance form tightly. Needing no invitation, the man sat at the dining table next to John. He smiled at him as if he were used to breaking men, and took a perverse pleasure in doing so.

He leered at John. ‘ You owe me money guv!’ John held his pose as if no one had spoke. Are you deaf? He looked at John as if he were stupid.

‘ Have you no heart,’ said Tony.’ You guys are all the same. Hell he’s just lost his mother. Also he's been scammed by his girlfriend who’d made him apply for the $250,000, which you have been stupid enough to give him even though he can’t afford the repayments. ‘The loan shark showed no emotion. Tony glared at him. ‘ The boys suffered enough! You will let him pay back what he can from his mother’s modest inheritance?’
‘No said the loan shark,’ tugging a tiny- red goatee. He grinned evilly. ‘We can’t do that. Someone much bigger and uglier will come and collect the $250,000 next week. If he doesn't pay we'll start breaking bones.’

The loan shark left. Tony dashed to the toilet. When he returned John's face was ashen-white as if he’d seen a ghost. The lawyer’s acceptance form was missing. ‘You chucked it in the bin? Said Tony.’
‘No, ‘said John. ‘I signed.’