Chapter 3 - Last will and testament

After the funeral, a group of relatives of the deceased all sat around at his house for a few minutes waiting for Mr Fitch, the lawyer to arrive with the certified copy of the will. The dead man was George's multi-millionaire father in law, Robert Mercer. He'd died suddenly and unexpectedly of a massive heart attack while playing golf at the age of 68 a fortnight earlier.

"I'm very sorry I'm late," said Mr Fitch immediately taking a large brown manila envelope from his briefcase that was sealed with red wax. "Unfortunately, the traffic was very bad. We can read Mr Mercer's will now if you are all agreed?"

"Yes please," George said anxious to know what he might receive from his father in law. Fitch eagerly broke the seal and extracted the papers that he then shuffled into reading order.

"Very well then I'll begin. 'I, Robert Mercer being of sound mind, declare this is my final will and testament and this document invalidates all others. To my only son Brad who was the supreme disappointment of my life, I present the opportunity to develop a sense of responsibility and loyalty in him. The two virtues that he steadfastly refused to develop on his own. To this end I entrust him with the care and custody of my faithful old dog Rex who is a model of those virtues sadly absent in him.'"

"He's not fucking serious!" exclaimed his son Brad angrily. "The dog died months ago!"

"I'm afraid he is or rather he was," said Mr Fitch pausing and then continuing. "'To my son-in-law Doctor George Simpson, I extend my Christian forgiveness, though I will forever hold you responsible for the **** of my beloved daughter Jennifer. I'm comforted by the fact that I'll never again be **** to bear the burden of your obnoxious presence.'"

"How very nice of the man!" George exclaimed angrily. "And also, so bloody typical!"

"'Lastly to my lovely granddaughter Helen as a token of my eternal love, devotion and admiration, I will leave my entire estate which totals approximately fifty million dollars,'" recounted the lawyer.

"'Helen has had to deal with a great deal of unhappiness in her life and this money will I am sure bring her some joy.'"

Mr Fitch went to read that his housekeeper Margaret would receive his house and some jewellery while his chauffeur would receive the saloon car.

"That concludes the will reading," said Mr Fitch folding the papers.

"He's left all his money to my daughter Helen who hasn't been seen or heard from in almost a year," said George summing up the situation. "Brad you've got my deepest sympathy for having an asshole for a father."

"Thanks George, do you think Helen will ever come home again if she hears that she's now inherited my father's fortune?" asked Brad.

"Well I do hope so now," replied George. "It's tragic that she should just disappear off to Europe like that. However, I think that she was still struggling with acceptance issues. To be honest I think we were too back then the truth be told."

"You know Helen running off really broke my dad's heart," said Brad. "Why do you think she ran away?"

"Well Helen had that big depression after her mother's **** and then there were those big changes in her life afterwards. Perhaps I could have been more supportive towards her problems but after I lost Jennifer, I just threw myself headlong into my work as my way of dealing with the pain. Then I had that big fight with Helen's boyfriend Ken who was actively encouraging Helen to go through with her life changes," said George remembering the night when Ken that had ended up in the swimming pool after his well-aimed punch. "Ken had had just a little bit too much to drink and I'm afraid I didn't fully appreciate how drunk he was. He must've been confused and just stumbled into the pool in the darkness."

"It was really tragic that he drowned," said Brad.

"Yes, obviously Helen took his **** very badly," agreed George. "She eagerly blamed me for the tragedy. Although Ken had supported her quite well, he encouraged her to do too much wayward stuff for my liking."

"And what about Helen?" Brad then asked. "Was it just Ken's **** that caused her to leave for Europe?"

"I think so. She was very upset after Ken's funeral that she just packed her bags and drove away in his car," explained George. "Even having inherited her grandfather's money, I don't think she'll be returning home anytime soon."

"Well I'm honestly very happy that she got left the old man's money," said Brad who was a very wealthy man in his own right. "I just hope she shows up soon to claim it."

"To be honest, with each day that passes, I'm beginning to lose hope that she'll ever return home," admitted George. "I don't even know where she is. The last I heard she was in Italy."

"I still think you have to go on the basis that she's still alive," suggested Brad.

"How long have you been taking these heart pills?" asked George as Brad popped another into his mouth.

"Just a couple of months now," Brad admitted. "Doctor Garrett says my heart should outlast my liver."

"I know that Garrett is a good doctor," George confirmed.

"I'll be around for a long time yet," laughed Brad. "Now that Dad's gone, I'm going to run for public office again. The state senate this time and I count my chances better than even to get in. Course Dad always said I was a fool to run for public office all the time. Now the old fool isn't around to comment or bring me down."

"Brad your father is dead and buried. So, let's forget him and I'm thinking of going out to celebrate it tonight," George replied.

"I wonder why he hated you so much?" Brad then asked as they carried walking back to George's big Mercedes saloon car.

"Don't you know?" George asked and then laughed. "It's because he thought that I did the devil's work and that I directly caused the **** of my wife and made Helen leave home."

"You're kidding?" Brad asked.

"I wish I was. He also thought I was a modern Frankenstein making monsters down at the hospital. When Jennifer died on the operating table he obviously blamed me," George said thinking back to the day when his wife had wanted him to do her breast augmentation operation.

"Of course, I couldn't do the operation, but she chose that quack surgeon to do it instead despite my obvious misgivings."

"Oh, poor Jennifer, that was a tragedy," Brad said sadly. "Perhaps it was her silly vanity that caused her undoing?"

"Perhaps it was. She died on the operating table of heart failure and she never regained consciousness. Well anyway here's to you, the new state senator when the time comes," George said opening his car door.

"Jump in and I'll give you a lift home since you've had a bit too much to drink. It wouldn't do for you to fail a sobriety test with you running for public office."

Each armed with a copy of the will, they slowly got into George's Mercedes.

"Do you like my new car?" George asked as he fired up the engine.

"I do, and it looks very grand," Brad admitted.

"This AMG Mercedes is my pride and joy."

"George I was thinking if you can straighten noses and things like that maybe you might be able to alter my features to better reflect my inner virtues," said Brad letting the whisky talk as he clipped on his seatbelt.

"No. There's nothing wrong with your face that quitting smoking and more regular exercise wouldn't cure," George replied turning the car onto the highway.

"It's going to seem strange not having my Dad around," admitted Brad grateful for the lift.

"Strange but nice no doubt too," George added. "Brad listen I'm very sorry about the will. I know you had your big expectations about that."

"At least I outlived that old bastard," laughed Brad. "That's an accomplishment."

They didn't talk much for a few minutes as they drove along, but then Brad suddenly saw what he thought was a body lying sprawled half in the gutter and on the sidewalk.

"God look out!" he shouted pointing to the body. "Stop!"

In front of them was an injured woman wearing a bright sundress. She had long blonde hair and her pantyhose were torn and ripped. They rushed out of the car to check on her with George immediately and automatically checking her vital signs.

"Oh my God look at the state of her face!" Brad cried in disgust, but George was more concerned about whether he could save her life. "Has she been hit by a truck?"

"Brad there's a picnic blanket in the back seat of my car. Get it please," he asked as he quickly checked her over. The only injuries he could see directly seemed to be to her face and they were horrific.

"Can you breathe?" he asked her and repeated. "Can you breathe?"

She barely responded, and he cleared both her blood-filled nostrils caused by a broken nose with his handkerchief, so she could at least breathe normally.

"Alright she's in a pretty bad way so I'm not going to wait for an ambulance. So, let's get her over to the hospital in my car," said George quickly deciding what to do. "Let's pull her onto the blanket gently and then you can help me carry her into the back seat of my car."

So, they lifted her up using the blanket with Brad lifting it at her feet. He noticed that she was only wearing one shoe and they left the other heel in the gutter. They then gently lifted her into the back seat of the car. George got back into the front and powered quickly towards the hospital.

"Sorry but I won't be able to drive you home now Brad, but you should be able to get a cab easily from here," said George as they pulled into emergency with a screech of brakes and tires. George ran in, organized a gurney and some porters to get the woman out of his car.

"Is Sandy here?" George asked a nurse referring to the doctor. "No? Then please get her for me quickly!"

The injured woman was quickly and gently brought into the emergency department where they could examine her. He immediately started to work on her face, but when Sandy arrived he barked, "Listen I want you to fully clean out her airways and match her blood and start a transfusion. Please check her out top to toe for any other trauma. I don't know if she was hit by a car or a truck or if she was attacked. I found her semi-conscious beside the road."

"Right," she said expertly moving into action.

"Thanks, I'll be in my office. Come and see me when you get done," he ordered standing down and taking off his rubber gloves that were now covered in the woman's blood.

"It looks like she's had a date with a meat grinder," Sandy exclaimed as she worked. The nurses started to remove her clothing.

George gratefully reached his office and picked up his phone to call the police to report what had happened, but he then hung up the phone without talking.

"George," said Sandy when she entered his office around 20 minutes later.

"What up?" he asked.

"That girl you just brought in I think I know what happened to her," she said. "It looks like somebody worked her over really good and tried to destroy her face. I'm pretty sure she's been kicked and punched. Who could do this to another human being?"

"It looks like they succeeded in their quest," he said simply.

"Yes, but I think I know why," she said standing in front of his desk.

"It seems that she isn't a real she, but she's a transgender woman. It's possible who ever beat her up might have found out and really took it out big style on her face and her genitals. By the way did you call the police?"

"Yeah I called them," he lied. "There's not much to report. We don't know who she is yet. There's no identification and she had no personal effects on her. There was no sign of a bag or a purse."

"As usual we're calling her Jane Doe for now," said Sandy.

"What's her prognosis?" he asked.

"She's semi-conscious and coming out of shock. Her vital signs are strong and continue to improve. Her nose is broken, her jaw is broken in three or four places. I won't know for sure until I get the X-rays. There is very extensive soft tissue damage to her face. Fortunately, both her eyes are fine," she explained. "Then her genitals are badly damaged as the attacker probably kicked her there hard several times. Finally, she has two broken ribs."

"How's her skull?" he asked.

"Her skull looks fine, but we won't know for sure until we get the X- rays of her head," she said. "What do you want to do?"

"For now, just keep her airways open, sedate her and stabilize the fractured bones. In an hour we'll make a start on fixing the damage,"

he declared putting on his white coat. "You mentioned that she's a transgender woman. Has she had any gender confirmation surgery?"

"No not yet, she still has her penis, testicles but they are badly damaged from hard kicks and she has no real breasts," she replied. "She wore a couple of false rubber pads in her bra."

"Thanks Sandy," he said. "How tall do you think she is?"

"How tall is she?" she chuckled. "I thought you just fixed faces."

"Well measure her height and I want to know her eye colour too," he declared heading towards his books on the shelf. "Arrange to get her up to theater. I will be up shortly."