The Guinet Family

November 22, 2012

At fifty four, Marcel Guinet was not a humble man. Known in all of France as the most eligible bachelor, he had become a household name years ago. While most women gathered at every event he went to, hoping to catch his eye, he basked in their attention but proposed to none.

Every year, more women would appear, many he didn’t know at all. He had been playing this guessing game for thirty years! Although obvious, nobody realized that this man would never marry.

For twenty years, he had been responsible for dozens of real estate complexes in Bordeaux, where he also lived.

Legend had it that he was married and had a son. How this piece of information was obtained is unknown but indeed, it was true.

No one had ever seen this boy, whose name was Leon. He was a sharp, talented boy with an undying love for books and a constant hope that one day, the knock on his door usually signaling breakfast, will be his long lost mother coming to take him home.

He was a recluse – not by choice. He lived in a home bigger than most, with the only company being his servants, some of whom were over sixty and devoid of the liveliness of youth. He had everything at his disposal, except the ability to socialise.

Leon was not close to his father. He only saw him at dinner time and at weekends – that is, if his father wasn’t in the company of one of his many mistresses.

He hated living his exceptionally sheltered life. If he asked to go outside, his father would reply, “You have everything here at your disposal, my son. Friends are a luxury, not a necessity. ”

Leon usually answered back, which resulted in him having dinner in his room for his ‘insolent behavior’! Despite being eighteen, his father still treated him like a child.

Leon was fed up with this treatment. He would discuss it with him today, at once, as soon as he is back from work in the afternoon.

***

Several hours passed without his father returning. Leon decided to ring his father’s secretary from the home office, despite the servants urging against it. He had never received permission to enter this room in his entire life because his father frequently entertained women here, or occasionally, had business meetings.

However, this was a matter of urgency. His father could be in trouble or worse. It was already nine o’ clock and it wasn’t even the weekend.

Where was he?

RINGGG…. RINGGG…

“Bonjour, you have reached the office of –”

He slammed down the phone.

Simultaneously, he heard the kitchen telephone ring from across the hall. Madame Costa, the tubby old housekeeper, responded before Leon and the rest of the staff could.

“Allo?”

Unintelligible conversation ensued on the other end.

“Oui, this is the estate of Monsieur Guinet. Is everything alright?” She chewed her lower lip.

Suddenly, Madame Costa gasped, before her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fainted. The servants caught her just in time.

Leon, burning with curiosity, leapt towards the dangling telephone. “Allo? Who is this?”

“Allo. This is the police. Who am I speaking with?” Leon heard police sirens in the background and prepared himself for the worst.

“I am Monsieur Guinet’s son.” A brief pause.

“Thank you for clarifying, Monsieur. Unfortunately, I have some shocking news for you. So please prepare yourself for what I am about to tell you.”

“What happened?” Leon asked impatiently.

“Very well. Your father’s driver today, while taking the usual route to his workplace across the Dordogne River, seems to have had a terrible accident. Officials are searching the river to see if the vehicle could be recovered or… a body. Neither the driver nor your father has been found as of now. I am so sorry.”

Tears welled in Leon’s eyes as he dropped the telephone. He was crushed. Some of the servants shrieked. Others wept.

He requested a car to take him to the investigation site.

***

Two weeks later…

“We have ruled your father’s death as suicide.”

“Suicide?” Leon stared in shock.

“Yes, suicide.” The officer took from his drawer a little black notebook that had “Guinet” engraved onto it in golden writing, along with a folded piece of paper.

“What is all this?” said Leon.

“This”, the officer pushed the black notebook towards Leon, “is a notebook your father left behind in a secret compartment in his safe. The head servant in your home informed us that your father had left you the notebook and it was kept secret deliberately. It was taken as evidence and inspected thoroughly but has not provided us with any insight pertaining to the investigation, so it is yours now. The paper is your father’s will.”

When Leon did not speak, the officer said, “I know you are facing a very distressing situation, so I will make it as brief as possible.”

He unfolded the will and said, “Your late father’s will states that you are entitled to the whole of the estate, the cars and homes your father owned, his businesses, and finally, his financial assets in full.”

The officer put the paper down and said, “However, Monsieur, I have to inform you that your father was on the verge of bankruptcy.”

“What?

“On the day of the incident, your father was last seen leaving his residence with his new driver. At the end of the bridge overlooking Dordogne, an elderly woman used to see your father’s Rolls Royce pass by every day, but that day, she didn’t see it. Neither the driver nor your father has been found. It is highly unlikely an accident would take place here, considering how few people live here. It seems – I’m sorry to say – carefully planned.”

Leon stood up, his furrowed brow showing his frustration and his distress. “Are you trying to tell me my father planned his suicide?”

“We traced his steps back two weeks before his passing and found out he had lost a very risky gamble at Casino Barrière which very much spelled the end of all his wealth. His driver, Michel Benoit, was hired in haste and is nowhere to be found – neither at his home location nor anywhere.”

Leon was at a loss for words.

“I know this may be the last thing you want to hear but…” The officer folded the will and took off his spectacles. “I thought it would ease some of your distress knowing that your father had left you a gift, one that cannot be touched as it is separate from all his business affairs.” He pointed to the notebook.

“Go on,” Leon sat back down, disgruntled.

The officer nodded and opened it up, slowly turning the pages. “The first page says Guinet in a printed font with a handwritten note underneath.” He looked up, wanting to see Leon’s reaction. Nothing. He continued.

“April 2, 2015. Dear son, now you have reached your twenty-first birthday, I am proud to say that you have officially become old enough to take care of yourself and decide what to do with your freedom. I know I have sheltered you, but it is and always has been for your protection. My father did not do the same for me and it made me grow up tough and I had to work like a dog until I succeeded in my ventures. Now, however, you are entitled to making your own choices as an adult and I will not stand in your way. As a gift from me to you, I’ve made a list of bank accounts worldwide in this notebook, one of which has a balance of twenty-thousand American dollars. It is your job to figure out which of those has the prize! Happy Scavenging! Your Papa.”

Leon’s cheeks were wet with tears, his eyes still staring into space. “That is all I have for you today, Monsieur,” stated the officer, adding, “I am truly sorry for your loss. Please accept my condolences.”

Leon nodded, sniffing his sadness away. “Thank you for your words.”

“Very well,” said the officer. He folded the will and placed it in an envelope, before giving it to Leon, along with the book.

Both gentlemen stood up. The officer walked around his desk and put a hand on Leon’s shoulder. “Young man, you are still alive, and you have so much to live for. See this as a chance to start again.”

Leon pursed his lips and thanked the officer again before being escorted out by his bodyguards.

At his home that very night, after dismissing all his servants, Leon rang someone whose number he’d memorized long ago.

Three rings then, “Leon?”

Leon straightened up, his voice more precise and powerful than it had ever been in his life. “We got him, Mama. I cannot believe it but we did it and now he is gone.”

A sharp inhale. “Forever?”

Leon said, “Forever!”

How it all happened, one might wonder. Well, it so turned out, forging a will wasn’t too hard provided the person’s handwriting could be easily copied. Luckily, Leon had a birthday card from his father. He replaced the original will with the forged one in the safe under Papa’s desk.

How absurd it was for Monsieur Guinet to think this had been the safest place to put it. And the supposed car ‘accident’? It wasn’t an accident at all. The main problem was blackmailing Monsieur Guinet’s driver of thirty years into leaving, after discovering he had been cheating on his wife of seventeen years with a much younger, busty demoiselle.

Once that was done, it wasn’t too difficult to find another driver willing to do almost anything for enough money! After some persuasion, the man agreed to plunge himself and Monsieur Guinet down the Dordogne, provided his family would receive a handsome cheque in the mail, whether or not he survived.

“Mama, I did all that you asked, and today, I realized luck was on our side. Poor Papa was on the verge of filing for bankruptcy and we are not going to gain anything as a consequence of his foolish actions. However, he had kept an extra twenty-thousand dollars as a gift to me for my twenty-first birthday,” he scoffed. “It is untouchable. Although we will be losing the house and all of Papa’s assets, at least we still have the twenty thousand, not to mention my much needed freedom.” He sat in his late father’s leather office chair, plastering his feet on top of the mahogany desk.

Mama’s deep exhale of relief was heard on the other end. “Oh, I am so proud of you, my boy! He has made it so very difficult to get in touch with you. If he had not visited the gala last month at the Hilton, you and I would have never spoken to one another again. I don’t care about the money; I am so pleased with having you alone.”

If Mama hadn’t placed the tracker on Papa, she would have never found Leon’s location and their plan to reunite would have never come into fruition. She had hired a skilled hacker to access the computer systems of the Guinet manor house just in time to get Leon’s email address and contact him. This job took a total of ten hours because of all the security Marcel had imposed on the house.

“Then my job is done here, Mama,” Leon responded, tapping on his new desk. “I hope to see you in person once this all dies down. I miss you terribly.”

“Oh, I miss you too, my boy. I have looked forward to nothing else for the past fifteen years.”

“So have I, Mama. So have I.” Leon walked slowly towards the spotless glass windows, taking in the view from a home he wouldn’t be able to call his any longer.