Page 12 of Farkas: Gothika

Lee decided not to complain about being unable to leave. “I’m very comfortable, thank you.”

“And has Vincent fulfilled all of your needs and desires?”

Laszlo delivered the question straight-faced, so Lee couldn’t tell whether he meant it mockingly or with a darker shade of meaning. Surely Laszlo couldn’t know the contents of Lee’s dreams.

“Yes,” Lee answered simply.

“Very good. I wish to grant Vincent full autonomy in managing my affairs. You may assume that his wishes are mine as well.”

Nodding, Lee strode toward the desk. “I’ll need your signature on—”

“Yes. When you have prepared the entirety of the documents, I will sign them all at once.”

This was not the usual way of doing things and it made Lee uneasy. “Sir, I don’t mean to be indelicate, but family matters can be complicated. Sometimes one relative takes advantage of another. I’m not saying that’s the case here, but I advise caution.”

For some reason, this made Laszlo chuckle drily. “Thank you for your concern, but I am confident that Vincent’s intentions align perfectly with my own.”

Lee nodded unhappily. In the few years he’d been with the firm, he’d seen sons cheat fathers and brothers conspire against brothers; it was enough to sour him on families in general. Oh, he supposed that not all families seethed with jealousy and bitterness, but money seemed to spoil things. Even when there was no money, parents and children might lack mutual understanding while siblings engaged in rivalry or resentment rather than support.

But he was a lawyer, not a psychologist, and if Laszlo wanted a comprehensive signing, Lee would give it to him. Maybe Laszlo was near death—he certainly did look ill—and therefore held no fear of his worldly goods being stolen.

Laszlo stared, his tongue darting out to moisten parched lips. He appeared to give a small shudder. “I must leave you now.”

“Are you all right, sir? Do you need help?” Lee started toward him.

But Laszlo backed up a step, his free hand held in front, palm out. “I am well. Please go back to your work. Vincent will be joining you shortly. He will bring dinner.” He stepped back into the hallway and closed the door.

Lee looked up at the painting over the fireplace. “That was strange, right? I mean, everything about this place is… off, but he was especially weird. I guess Vincent’s normal by comparison.”

Lee was used to a certain degree of eccentricity among the firm’s clients, some of whom were Hollywood stars. But even the ones who weren’t actors often had quirks. During a meeting with Howard Hughes, for example, the magnate grew upset over a smudge of ink on a piece of paper and insisted the entire lengthy document be retyped.

But the Farkases were something else altogether.

Vincent arrived about an hour later wearing tan pleated trousers and a pale blue knit shirt. He seemed a bit flustered, as if he’d been rushing somewhere, but he smiled as he wheeled in the cart. “Just sandwiches tonight, my friend. I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine.”

As Vincent set out the food, he gave Lee a quick glance. “You met Laszlo.”

“Yes. Is he ill?”

“No,” Vincent replied with a chuckle. “But very old. Don’t worry about him. Are you satisfied with what he told you?”

“He said I should do whatever you want.”

“Really? I do want a very great deal.” Vincent’s dark eyes shone, and he had lowered his voice to a suggestive purr.

“I’d like to finish your work and get home.”

“Of course. Please, eat. And after that we’ll get started.”

Lee wasn’t terribly hungry, maybe because of the snacks he’d had earlier in the evening. But he very much wanted some of that wine and feared he’d look like a sot if he drank without eating. So he ate a sandwich piled high with roast meat, plus a large serving of sweet and sour red cabbage very similar to what his mother used to make. There were some pickled vegetables too, and plum dumplings for dessert. His mother used to make those as well. It ended up being a surprisingly hearty meal, and although he drank three generous glasses of wine, he didn’t feel intoxicated.

As before, Vincent lounged nearby while Lee wrote up documents and organized paperwork. After a couple of hours, the silence began to feel oppressive. “I haven’t seen any mention of other heirs,” Lee said.

“There are no others.”

“Your parents?”

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