Chapter 2: Then ruthless Uncle

1203 Words
Josie's POV I stayed at the casket as the funeral director was attempting to guide the guests toward the reception room, but I wasn’t going to move from the side of the box where Julian was presumably resting in peace. He was in there, I knew, because I could see the small, steady rise of his chest under the crisp white silk shirt, and the son of a b***h was so committed to his performance that he didn’t even flinch when a fly settled on his nose. Martha came over and made a feeble attempt to sling her arm around my shoulders, her breath reeking of the gin she’d been smuggling in the car, and she murmured that it was time to let the professionals take care of the burial. ‘No, Martha, I have to see him one more time because I never really said goodbye to him in the hospital,’ I said, my voice catching so high and shakily that the funeral director peered down worriedly at his feet. I grabbed the edge of the mahogany lid and banged it open before they could stop me, and I looked down at Julian’s “corpse” as my blood ran colder than ice. I reached into my sleeve, pulled out the small paring knife I had stolen from the kitchen earlier this morning, and I leaned over him as if I was going to give a final kiss on his forehead. Instead, I drove the point of the blade into the flesh of his upper arm, twisting it just enough to feel the resistance of his muscle, and I saw a thin line of red bloom through the fabric. Julian’s jaw clamped shut so hard I thought his teeth might break, but he stayed motionless, so I figured I’d raise the stakes while Martha was busy sobbing into her handkerchief. I took hold of the thermos with boiling tea which I’ve requested the housekeeper to bring for me, and I did not stop for a moment; I poured the hot liquid over his crotch and saw the steam rising up in voluminous cloud. “Oh, my poor Julian, you were always so cold, let me warm you up one last time!” I cried, then I took the bottle of the strong toilet cleaner I’d concealed in my bouquet of flowers and poured the blue, corrosive solution on his face that I was able to see his face and neck. The chemicals began to fizz as they came into contact with the hot water and he was starting to see his skin turn a splotchy, angry purple, but the man was committed to his lie, so I started raining punches on his chest, slamming him as hard as I could. “Why did you leave me? I screamed, and with every yell I brought up another fist to his ribs, hearing the faint ugh of air leaving his lungs as the funeral director finally realized that something was very wrong.He and two other men grabbed my arms and pulled me back, but I managed to give the side of the coffin one final hard kick, rattling the whole thing against its stand. ​I allowed them to usher me to the back of the room where the bar was located, pretending that my knees had turned to jelly, and I spotted Alexander holding a drink in his hand, observing the whole scene with not horror, but utter, dark amusement. He never dashed to his nephew’s side or to see if the body was destroyed; he merely paused until I was close enough to take in the scent of fine tobacco emanating from his coat. ​"That was quite a send-off, Josephine; I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone express their grief by using plumbing chemicals," Alexander said, his voice deep and steady as I took a glass of water from him. I took a sip, looked him straight in the eye, and told him I wanted to thank him for the very generous funeral arrangements and for making sure Julian had a “comfortable” send-off. He never looked away, and for a second, something flickered in his eyes, and I realized he knew what I was doing, and that he’d been waiting twenty years for me to stop being Julian’s little puppet. “The arrangements were the least I could do for family, but you look like you need to sit down before you go and set the curtains on fire.” he said, holding my elbow a moment as he led me to a seat in the corner beyond the gaze of the guests. We sat for a little while, and I saw the staff at the funeral home frantically trying to wipe those blue chemicals from Julian’s face before they closed the lid for good, and a sense of satisfaction welled up in me stronger than any narcotic could provide. “He told me you were a threat to this family, Alexander, but I think he was just scared that I’d find out you’re the only one in this place with any brains,” I said, and Alexander actually laughed, a low sound that rattled in his chest. He said that Julian was right about him being dangerous, but that I was the last person he ever wanted to hurt, and then he rose and said he had to attend to some business relating to the “death” benefits. ​When at last the house was still, and the “body” was taken out to the graveyard, I went into Julian’s secluded office and began ransacking the place, searching for anything he may have overlooked in his hurry to die. There was a little, locked drawer beneath the desk, and I didn’t even look for a key, I just used a heavy paperweight to break the wood until it softened.Inside was a bulky envelope with a return address from a bank in Switzerland, and when I withdrew the statements , I saw a transfer of ten million dollars that had been authorized just two days ago. ​The money hadn't come from Julian’s personal savings, though, and as I looked at the signature on the bottom of the wire transfer, I saw the stamp of the Hart Family Trust. My husband hadn't just faked his death to be with his mistress, he had been paid by his own mother and the family board to disappear and leave me with nothing but a mountain of debt and a grieving daughter. I sat on the floor in the dark, clutching the papers until they wrinkled in my grip, and I realized that I wasn't just fighting Julian anymore, I was fighting the whole damn family. ​I looked out the window and saw Alexander’s car still parked at the end of the driveway, his headlights cutting through the fog, and I knew right then that I was going to take his offer of a "business proposition." If the Harts wanted to pay Julian to leave, then I was going to use Alexander to make sure they paid me even more to stay and burn their legacy to the ground.
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