Envy(58)

“Hello, Howard. Sorry I’m late.” He banged ahead to prevent Bancroft from remarking on his tardiness. “I was on the telephone with Maris, informing her that she would be receiving this document either tomorrow or the day after at the latest. She’s in the boonies, on the outskirts of nowhere, but she assured me that the parcel carriers deliver.”

Without invitation he sat down on an upholstered love seat and spread his arms along the back of it, a study in nonchalance. Looking through the windows behind the attorney’s desk, he remarked, “You know, Howard, I don’t know what you did to rate this office. It’s got an incredible view.”

His cavalier attitude was calculated to distract Bancroft from the business at hand. But he knew from experience that the little Jew was no pushover. His wizened appearance added a decade to his age. He stood five feet five inches tall in elevated shoes. He had a bald, pointed head with a distinct knob on the crown. He favored wide suspenders and wore them with tweed trousers regardless of the season. On his nose were perched small round reading glasses. Howard Bancroft looked like a gnome. Or exactly what he was—a shrewd legal mind.

“Is the document ready?” Noah asked, even though the referenced document was lying in plain view on the lawyer’s desk.

“It’s ready,” Bancroft replied.

“Thank you for preparing it so expediently.”

Noah leaned forward and reached for the document, but Bancroft laid his heavily veined and spotted hand on it. “Not so fast, Noah. I’m unwilling to let you have this today.”

“Why’s that?”

“I followed your directives and drew up the document as you requested, but… May I be candid?”

“That would save time.”

“I was reluctant to write the document as you specified. Its content is troubling.”

The lawyer removed his glasses and began polishing them with a large white handkerchief he’d taken from his pants pocket. Shaking it out, it looked to Noah as though he were waving a flag of surrender, which he might just as well do. Howard Bancroft could not win this fight.

“Oh? How is it troubling?” Noah gave his voice just enough edge to caution the attorney that Noah’s reasons for requesting the document were not open for discussion. They weren’t even to be questioned. Bancroft, however, did not take the hint.

“You’re certain that Maris approves of this?”

“I made the request on her behalf, Howard.”

“Why does she feel that such a document is necessary?”

“You know as I do, as Maris does, that publishing isn’t the gentleman’s cottage industry it was a century ago. It’s gone cutthroat like everything else. If you stand still in this marketplace, you’d just as well be backing up. If you’re merely maintaining the status quo, your competitors will pass you by, and before you can blink, you’re in last place. We don’t want Matherly Press to be choking on the heel dust of the others, do we?”

“That’s a stirring speech, Noah. I suggest you deliver it at the next sales conference to rally the troops. However, I fail to see how the valid points you made relate to either my question or this document.”

“That document,” Noah said, pointing to it where it still lay on the desk, “is our safety net. Publishing is changing constantly and swiftly. Matherly Press must be prepared for any contingency. We must be able to operate with fluidity, so that if an opportunity arises, it can be immediately seized.”

“Without Daniel’s consent.”

Noah assumed a sad expression. “Ah, Howard, that’s the hitch. It breaks Maris’s heart, as it does mine, that Daniel is getting on in years. That’s a sad fact we’ve been forced to accept. If he should take a sudden downward turn, say a stroke that renders him incapable of making business decisions, this power of attorney guarantees a smooth transition and protects the company from being pitched into chaos.”

“I wrote the provisos, Noah. I know their purpose. I also know that similar documents are already in place and have been for years. Daniel’s personal lawyer, Mr. Stern, drew them up when Maris turned twenty-one. I’ve got copies in my files, so I know that these documents include a living will and, as you say, cover every contingency. Should the unforeseen happen, Maris has been granted full power of attorney to make all Daniel’s decisions for him, personally and professionally.”

“I’m aware of the previous documents. This one’s different.”

“Indeed it is. It supersedes the others. It also grants you power of attorney to make Daniel’s decisions for him.”

Noah took umbrage. “Are you suggesting that I’m insinuating myself—”

“No.” Bancroft raised his hands, palms out. “Both Daniel and Maris have mentioned to me the need to amend their power of attorney documents to include you. But that responsibility should fall to Mr. Stern, not to me.”

“You’re more convenient.”

“To whom?”

Noah glared at him. “What else do you find so troubling, Howard?”

The lawyer hesitated, as though knowing it was ill-advised to continue, but apparently his convictions won out over caution. “It feels sleight of hand. I get the impression that this is being done behind Daniel’s back.”

“He’s authorized it. You said so yourself not thirty seconds ago.”