Free Death at King Arthur's Court by Richard; Forrest

said.
    â€˜Deserve is not the point, Morgan,’ Clay said with resignation.
    Morgan shifted his venom toward Rina. ‘While you salivate over this money, did it ever occur to your uneducated mind that the trust is tainted? It’s money that originated with the slave trade. Yankee skippers who didn’t make the China Run. They converted to the triangle trade with vessels that considered the loss of one third the human cargo as a normal cost of doing business. After that practice was outlawed, they turned to the mills. These were the gallant establishments that tallied small fortunes through the exploitation of very young women and children. The mills moved south to exploit others, and our forefathers found an even better source of profit in the weapons of death. Connecticut, the arsenal of the world, the manufacturers of every lethal weapon known to man, from atomic submarines to most of the handguns sold in this country. But that was all yesterday, you say. Today the money is invested in squeaky-clean stocks and bonds. Our assets have been properly laundered, as old money should be.’
    â€˜You seem to have enjoyed its pleasures without guilt,’ Clay said. ‘Frankly, Morgan, we are not interested in your financial philosophy. I want an immediate accounting of our money.’
    â€˜And your sister’s share will either be wasted on that muscle-bound jerk she’s sleeping with or bird-watching old ladies in tennis shoes.’ Morgan turned to Lyon. ‘Her newest is a real Neanderthal, Lyon. I think she discovered him when she tripped over a rock on Muscle Beach and found him underneath.’
    Lyon felt that this family argument was violating the sanctuary he had tried to create in his small office. The room had turned from a quiet place for thought and creativity to a pocked battlefield of age-old bitterness.
    â€˜Cut the crap, Morgan!’ Rina said. ‘I want my money.’
    â€˜If there’s any left,’ Clay added in a low voice.
    â€˜I won’t even deign to answer that,’ Morgan said as he strode from the room.
    â€˜It’s time for action, Rina,’ Clay said.
    â€˜I agree,’ she replied.
    The subdued group filed back to the patio. Lyon was concerned over the dysfunctional family scene he had just witnessed. Morgan’s imperious attitude was creating a deep anger in the twins that might be impossible to rectify.
    The phone rang as he passed the kitchen doorway. He reached toward the wall unit and flipped it off its stanchion. ‘Wentworth here,’ Lyon said.
    â€˜Tell Mr Morgan that Armageddon has begun,’ the flat nasal voice said.

Six
    Lyon paced the living room. With complete absorption in the act, he strode in a perfect box pattern as if he were taking measured steps to produce room dimensions. ‘All right,’ he finally said. ‘It would seem that our primary suspects are two disgruntled English teachers, and a set of mismatched twins agitated over their trust fund.’
    â€˜The threatening phone call talked of Armageddon,’ Rocco said. ‘It wasn’t a call from some kids asking us to let Prince Albert out of the box.’
    â€˜Is there more?’ Bea asked.
    â€˜Yes,’ Lyon answered.
    â€˜What’s Armageddon?’ Rina asked.
    â€˜Why, my dear sister,’ Morgan’s voice boomed over the patio. ‘Your experience with that rock group certainly left some lacunae in your education. Perhaps Mr Wentworth has a large dictionary in the house that he can teach you to use.’
    â€˜The final battle between the forces of good and evil,’ Lyon said.
    â€˜Designed to take out Morgan?’ Rina asked.
    â€˜It would seem so,’ Lyon answered.
    â€˜Fanaticism can’t be all that bad,’ Clay mumbled.
    â€˜You know, I heard that,’ Morgan said. ‘The only principle your accountant’s brain ever comprehended was a lowering of the capital gains