There were moments when Christopher Manser doubted his own abilities, and this was one of them. Bernard Flenn had just called with a complaint that was completely outside of business. His daughter, Clara, had apparently been having an affair with Christopher's stepson. Yes, Christopher had known of this affair. Yes, he had neglected to inform Bernard. Yes, he was terribly sorry and would, to the best of his ability, try to inform him of such things in the future. After he put down the phone, Christopher sat in his armchair awhile before doing anything. Why was Charles still tied to him, if the boy despised him so? He supposed it wasn't something he could fix. But would Charles's future affairs still be tied to him? Would he still have to answer the angry people? Would he have to defend Charles until his death? Even if the boy grew out of such things, would he still have to answer for him? Christopher stood and paced. He understood that the boy had passed on to him now, and for the sake of his brother, he would have to defend the boy, no matter what. Of course, defense and love were two very different things.
When he finally left his meditation in the study, Christopher headed down the stairs to the main level, where the grand staircase, led him to a very frightened Julianne.
"My dear, I…"
He comforted her and she retold the story of the three maids and their conversation. One of them, apparently a former mistress of the junior CEO of Kingsely industries, had whispered that before they had broken up, he had disclosed to her a certain plan, which she had not remembered to its entirety. However, she did remember that it included some kind of truce with Manser industries. Then she remembered that the CEO died on the very day that the truce was to be agreed upon. A second maid turned the subject to the death of Charles Manser sr. Apparently, none of them thought it to be accidental, and, although one thought it had been suicide, the other two quietly announced their belief of murder. At this, of course, the three laughed and decided together that suicide was the best explanation. But they did discuss the antics of Christopher Manser, the brother shadowed by the CEO's fame and fortune. It was said the man had wanted his brother's station for a very long time, and would stop at almost nothing to gain such a place. The third maid added a snide comment about his lust for his brother's wife, with whom it was said he had an affair before his brother's death. That was obviously preposterous, but it was fun to think of it. Julianne looked up from her hot tea and looked into the eyes of her new husband.
"They also said that if it was a murder, you would have been the most likely to commit it, aside from Kingsely-related assassins." she said, and he started.
"My dear, there isn't any reason for me to have killed my brother."
"No, Chris, there is. I thought it over. You did always want what he had. You wanted his fame and fortune, and you wanted me. You knew his position would most likely pass on to you after his death, and you might have been afraid that if he didn't die soon enough, you'd be too old to accept it. I'm not saying you did it, Chris. But think about it. Wouldn't it make sense?"
"Yes, Julie, it would, but then why would I have done it when I did?"
"Charlie checked the security tapes. The only people to enter the building on the morning of his death were me, you, and Charlie."
Christopher contemplated his position for a moment before speaking.
"You don't suppose Charlie…"
"No! No, Chris, it couldn't have been him. He loved his father too much."
"But think about it. Charles left him practically everything he had left. This house is his, according to the will, as is all the furniture and décor. He owns half the company, for goodness sake! Who wouldn't kill for such a fortune?"
Julianne sipped her tea and thought it over.
"You're right," she decided, "He could have done it. But then again, I could have, too."
There was a great dispute over the money left to Charles Manser jr. in the will of the late Mr. Manser. Half the committee voted to negotiate a compromise with the young man, whereas the other half placed forth a desire to strip the boy of his money on account of madness. Spies were set forth to follow Charles Manser jr. and record all doings without his knowing. It was obvious the boy did not wish to follow in the footsteps of his father, and therefore his money would not go towards the company, as it would have, surely, had the senior been alive. The boy should not have known of his constant pursuit, but Charles wasn't as thick as they assumed him to be. He knew of the spies following him on the second day after they were dispatched. The only place he could hide from them was at Clara's. Even there, they would disguise themselves as smokers by the doors and wait for him to exit. But they couldn't come up, lacking keys. Even when they managed to somehow scramble up to the correct floor, they had to patrol the hallway, and Charles had time to escape.
He came up to one of the spies one day. The man, a short buffoon with a cigarette tucked behind his trembling ear, looked up at Charles.
"Why are you following me?" the target asked, holding the spy by his collar.
"I… I'm not… not following you, s-sir…"
"Oh, really?" Charles held a small pocketknife to the man's throat. "Maybe this'll help."
"T-they want me to prove you mad, s-sir… so they could get money, or something like that. Look, sir… I don't really know why I'm doing this – all I know 's that I get paid. Please, s-sir…"
Charles, relieved of the weak spy, dropped the man and turned down the hall.
At the Manser house, spies took the form of his uncle, ever looking over Charles's shoulder, reading into his books, watching what he watched on television. The only proof of madness they received came from his attempts of confrontation. He didn't trust anyone he had known to love him but Clara, with whom he stayed for a month until he realized that no plan could be put forth until his trap was set to motion. He explained to Clara that even though he knew their basic intentions, he couldn't plan a trap of his own until they began to suck the money out of him, however they wished to do that. Thus Charles became officially insane. He began to walk strangely, constantly glancing over his shoulder, talk too loud or too quiet, have outbursts of anger or happiness at the most unexpected moments. After another week of following him, the spies, content with their confirmations, returned to the council and showed all photographs, video and audiotapes that proved their findings. The council, pleased with the conclusion, set Charles Manser jr. down as mad in their files, and thus sent countless lawyers to dog him about the city. The boy, however, ignored them utterly, along with the Flenn girl, who, by his side, seemed to be just as mad.
This development, of course, found the furious ears of Bernard Flenn, who immediately phoned Christopher Manser and settled into another multi-houred discussion of Charles's affairs. The conclusion they came to was that the Flenn and Manser children were to be separated, for Charles had a rather negative effect on Bernard's daughter. Christopher agreed to it. Clara was Charles's last line of defense. Break it down, and he had the kid cornered.
He put down the phone and raised it to his ear again, dialing the number of his personal legion of bodyguards.
"Hello? Yes, this is Christopher Manser."
Clara and Charlie were enjoying a beautifully gray day in the fountain garden, watching the green leaves sway in their new coats of mid-August heat. The few birds that settled in the heart of the city sang their songs, and the fountains sprayed Charlie and Clara in a cool shower of blue. They were sitting on a bench in the flower trail when Charlie's phone rang. He picked it up, but there was no one there.
"What's wrong?" Clara asked, and Charlie shook his head.
"Battery must have run out or something."
As he checked all possible reasons for this, two burly men came up from both sides of the road. Clara saw them first.
"Charlie," she said, and he looked up. Dropping his cell phone, he grabbed Clara's hand and led her through the nearest flowerbed, to another trail. From there, they made their way to the road, glancing back occasionally to find that two cars had replaced the burly men.
They ran through alleys and climbed over fences, but in the end, the men caught up. One took out his gun and the other approached them. Without a word, he grabbed Clara by the wrist. Charlie ran at the man and attempted to knock him out, but the second one caught him and threw him to the ground. Clara screamed and clawed at the man holding her, but he paid no attention. The man with the gun kicked Charlie until he was limp. Then, he picked up the boy and threw him over his shoulder, and put the victim in the backseat of one of the cars. Clara screamed again, but was silenced with a hit to the stomach, which made her sputter for air. She remained silent as they placed her in the second car and drove the two in opposite directions.