Free Last to Die by James Grippando Page A

generating, she said as she turned and pointed to the public seating behind her.
    Jack turned and looked with everyone else. The gallery was nearly full, six rows of shoulder-to-shoulder seating.
    The judge asked, Where did the buzz about this case come from all of a sudden?
    Vivien said, Obviously you didn't see the paper this morning. Nifty little story about the missing heir in a forty-six-million-dollar game of survival. Doesn't take long for word to get out when one of the beneficiaries is a reporter.
    Deirdre Meadows sank low in her chair.
    Vivien continued. Now, why do you think the courtroom is nearly full for a Mickey Mouse motion like this one? I'll tell you why. Because every warm body sitting in the observation gallery this morning works for a lawyer. They're chomping at the bit, just waiting for me to divulge the name of that sixth beneficiary, so that they go running after him with a business card.
    Jack took another look, panning across a sea of faces that looked guilty as charged.
    The judge flashed a thin smile and said, Funny, but I'm suddenly reminded of something I watched the other night on the Discovery Channel. A helpless deer was surrounded by a pack of hungry coyotes with teeth bared. The pack slowly closed in, jaws snapping, until finally one of them lunged forward and took hold of a hoof. The others piled on. In a matter of seconds the deer was on its back, limbs extended, drawn-and-quartered as the ravenous coyotes pulled mercilessly for a share of the meal. Anyway, I digress. I guess that's my way of saying that one third of forty-six million dollars is a contingency fee worth fighting over.
    You bet it is, said Vivien. And that's why I don't want to publicize the name of the sixth beneficiary until I've been able to locate him. If I'm forced to reveal the name, I'm afraid that one of these coyotes, as you say, is likely to reach him before I do. Frankly, I think that's an utterly distasteful way for someone to find out they're a beneficiary under a will.
    I agree, said Jack. That's why I haven't asked the court to order Ms. Grasso to file the will with the court.
    Then what are you requesting? asked the judge.
    This is a peculiar situation, said Jack. Ms. Fenning's will is structured so that the surviving beneficiary inherits the entire estate.
    Which is exactly Ms. Grasso's point, said the judge. Unless the beneficiaries are willing to wait fifty or more years for the money, they'll either have to figure out some way to get the other beneficiaries disqualified or to work out a settlement. That means they'll need a sharp lawyer, and I have little doubt that there will be plenty of them hunting down our mystery beneficiary once his name is revealed.
    That's one side of it, Your Honor. But consider another possibility. Immediately following the reading of the will at Ms. Grasso's office, I believe it was Mr. Colletti who made a joke to the effect that it's a good thing none of the beneficiaries is a trained killer, or maybe they'd all have to start looking over their shoulders. After leaving the office, it occurred to me: How do we know this unidentified sixth beneficiary isn't a trained killer?
    Do you have reason to believe he is dangerous? asked the judge. Jack hesitated. He couldn't very well inform the judge that Sally Fenning tried to hire his own client as a hit man, or that the real reason for his motion was to test his theory that beneficiary number six was the hired gun who hadn't turned Sally down.
    I don't know anything about him, said Jack. But for the sake of personal safety and peace of mind, each of the beneficiaries should know the name of the sixth beneficiary. So I ask the court to order Ms. Grasso to divulge the name to us immediately, under seal, for our eyes only. Then once she finds him, she can make the name public.
    Ms. Grasso, what's wrong with that? asked the judge.
    In theory, nothing, she replied. But we have to look at reality here. If I were simply turning the name