Mack must have delivered the memo at precisely the moment requested, because when Maude, Elizabeth, and David peeked into Linus' office, he was glaring over the top of it at them.

"You had an emergency board meeting?" he demanded.

David shrugged. "What, you didn't get the memo?"

"What is this about, David."

"Oh, well, it's fine if you missed it. We had a quorum without you."

"WHAT IS THIS ABOUT."

Maude took over. "Linus, as your senior board member, I am personally ordering you to take a vacation."

"I appreciate the concern, Mother, but you can't force me to use my personal time. You have to invoke the unfitness clause for that. A resolution has to be passed."

David and Maude looked at each other.

Linus grew more heated. "There has to be a recommendation, made by a non-relative, and reviewed by a medical professional with firsthand knowledge —" he cut himself off with a swivel toward Elizabeth, who was the picture of innocence.

He took off his glasses, huffing incredulously. "What, you — you staged a coup, just to make me go lie on a beach somewhere and work on my suntan?"

"Linus, you're showing multiple warning signs of severe exhaustion," Elizabeth cut in. "Mack says you've started losing your train of thought more frequently. You're easily distracted. You usually have some level of scleral erythema …"

"Your notes from our last meeting with the Rons have two major oversights," David told him, displaying a copy with the errors highlighted. Linus snatched it. After a few seconds, his eyes widened.

"And you called Dr. Calloway one night when you were working late. You had trouble breathing and chest pain. I believe he told you it was pre-angina," Maude added.

"He's not supposed to tell you that!"

"I didn't say I heard it from him."

"Look, the point is, we don't want you to work yourself to death," David urged, "but we're afraid you will if we don't make you stop. Just for a while." He reached out toward Elizabeth. "What's it called when you still work somewhere, but you take a really long time off because you've been going for so long without a break?"

"Sabbatical," she said.

"Yeah, that's it. Linus, you're going on a sabbatical."

"Isn't that some kind of religious thing?" Linus grumbled. "You want me to take holy orders and spend my time off chanting in a monastery?"

"I think you can skip the orders; you're practically a monk already," said Maude. "This job is your religion." Linus sputtered, which nearly made Elizabeth crack up. "Even your father knew when to take time off. I don't suggest you start relaxing by going to funerals, like he did …"

"But some quality time in some cathedrals couldn't hurt," David put in. "Go stay at Mother's house in Tuscany and look at Renaissance paintings."

Linus flipped his pen impatiently.

"Okay, go lie on a beach in Thailand if that sounds better to you."

Another flip.

"Go to Manchester and see how your investments in British tabloid journalism are panning out."

Linus dropped his pen.

Maude raised an eyebrow. David and Elizabeth both leaned down to see his facial expression as he bent to pick it up.

Upon arising, he saw them all staring at him.

"Sorry. Low blood sugar." He straightened his bowtie.

Elizabeth put a hand to her waist. "That's my pager. I have to go." She kissed David on the cheek and strode out, feeling for her cell phone.

"Eat some dinner, Linus," ordered Maude as she turned to follow her. "And I don't want to see you here in the morning."

Linus inclined his head, which satisfied her enough to leave. David waited. Linus lifted his eyes but not his head.

"Show me the resolution."

David opened his portfolio and handed Linus a newly copied sheet, its lower third festooned with signatures. Linus smirked when he saw it. "It's like a 'get well soon' card." He scanned the lines. Looking for a loophole, David assumed.

He found one.

"This doesn't say 'effective immediately,'" Linus pointed out, holding up the piece of paper with his finger and thumb pinched where that line should be. "That means it goes into effect tomorrow. That means I have until midnight."

David exhaled in exasperation and prepared to withdraw. "Whatever floats your boat, Linus."

It might, after all, be best for his brother's peace of mind over how the company would fare in his absence if he were allowed to work through every last minute of his allotted time. However, David couldn't resist adding, "You have a good structure in place, you know. We're not idiots. The company's not gonna implode overnight as soon as you leave."

Linus rubbed his temples. "That's not it."

David stopped.

Linus realized he'd been about to reveal something a little too private and put his glasses back on instead. "What's your plan to handle the inevitable freefall in our stock prices once Wall Street hears I got put on a forced medical leave?"

"Strict confidentiality," David pointed out. "It's in the bylaws."

"That's what Calloway was supposed to have, but he talked," Linus said dryly.

"Draft your own press release, then. Get out ahead of it."

"That's not a bad idea."

"Good night, Linus." David headed for the door, calling over his shoulder, "I'm giving Fairchild explicit orders to come in here and drag you out if you're not on that elevator at 12:01!"

Hearing the chauffeur's name still jolted Linus with guilt. There was no point complaining, though. He'd avoided the man long enough. But there would be plenty of time to think about what to say to him after midnight. Time was wasting.