Chapter 1
Elmo was a tall man who tried to appear to be much shorter. His voice was powerful but he never spoke above a whisper. Fellow work mates could not understand where he was coming from. They could not file him away into a neat category. Elmo was neither young nor old. The most accurate guess from prying peers was that he was in his early thirties. No one had been in the office when he arrived. Most only stayed about six years at that firm. When probed at office parties Elmo gave vague replies. Many peers asked the same question which was,
"Where did you come from Elmo?"
His reply never changed. In a dismissive tone of voice he would say,
"Oh here and there."
No further probing would get anything more out of him. In desperation a few peers might ask,
"Have you got any family somewhere Elmo?" To which Elmo would always reply in a flat tone of voice,
"None living that I know of anyway."
This response would dissuade even the most inquisitive peer from asking Elmo any more questions.
Still for some inexplicable reason everyone liked Elmo. A workplace psychoanalyst would say it was because Elmo was not ambitious. He never applied for promotion positions so never competed with anyone for a better paid job. In other words Elmo was no threat to anybody.
Maybe a sociologist might say that Elmo was liked because he was a good listener. Elmo would let other people talk on about themselves without interruption. It was like he had no ego to mention. In an office full of self-centered salespeople this made Elmo unique.
At staff drinks and office parties everyone tried to have a word with Elmo. Yet Elmo was always the first to leave. As far as anyone he had actually worked with could remember, Elmo never got drunk. He never told on anyone! If someone made a complete fool of themselves at the Friday drinks outings then Elmo would deny knowing anything about that incident. At one such outing a fellow staff member had one too many glasses of Irish Whiskey then began to sign songs from the old country. When absent staff asked Elmo about this he said that he left before it had occurred, which was not the truth.
In fact no peer could guess exactly when Elmo was lying. None knew his personal views or even his pet hates. So whatever Elmo said to a work mate was believed. At staff meetings Elmo answered direct questions about his work progress but never ventured anything else. He never asked a question at the staff retraining seminars.
Elmo was an enigma! After ten years of being happy to remain a sales clerk, he was starting to be treated like part of the office furniture.
Yet there was a sadness in Elmo's eyes that drew in certain types of women. He was never short of romantic overtures. Women looked into his haunted eyes before falling for his quiet charm. They lined up to go out with him but always were disappointed with the outcome. This had nothing to do with sex. Elmo was still a young man. The failure of their romance with Elmo rested on his refusal to open up about his early life. Any information about his family was strictly taboo. Women had affairs with Elmo without learning anything about him.
One day he received an email from a local law firm. They had traced him from his social media posts. It was to his rented apartment that a document was delivered to Elmo. This was a photocopy of a will. His uncle from back home had finally died. The document's covering letter said that Elmo Eveings was the sole beneficiary of a substantial family trust fund. Elmo was asked to attend at a legal office on any Saturday morning that was convenient.
Turning up the very next Saturday morning, Elmo went up to the legal receptionist. He showed Elmo into the floor conference room. A short time later two lawyers entered the room. The senior one said in a professional tone of voice,
"Elmo Eveings? My name is Barnard Cromwell. I am the senior partner here at Cromwell Cromwell and Cromwell. This is my junior legal clerk, Francis Upjohn. She will be taking notes. Is that okay with you?'
Elmo responded in a timid tone of voice,
"Yes, but what is this all about?"
This question stopped Barnard Cromwell in full flight and changed his fake smile into a genuine frown. He turned on his junior to say sharply,
"I thought I told you to courier a copy of the will to Mr. Eveings. Did you do as I asked?"
Fran Upjohn replied in a hurried tone of voice,
"Of course Mr. Cromwell. I had the confirmation sent to my smartphone by our usual courier firm."
This reply caused Barnard Cromwell to swivel his gaze back onto Elmo before saying,
"Perhaps you could show us some proof of identity. After all we are here to discuss a confidential matter."
Elmo took out his smartphone and brought up his passport ID app. Then he opened up his passport photo page which he showed to Barnard Cromwell. When Fran Upjohn had verified that the passport number on this page was the one assigned to Elmo Eveings, she nodded to her senior.
Mr. Cromwell then took up the charge by saying in rapid fire speech,
"Your uncle died recently. His lawyer found his will buried in all his personal papers. That will left your uncle's sizable estate to you. His lawyer did a search that showed that you are his only blood relative still alive today. Thinking this rather strange in the Twenty First Century, he researched your family background...that is to say his client's family background. His findings were shocking and tragic. But they confirmed your status as sole heir under that will."
Elmo was obviously expected to respond at this point but he just sat there as painful memories came flooding back into his mind. When he did not speak for five minutes, Barnard finally got the message. In an embarrassed tone of voice he said,
"Of course it was not our intention to reopen old wounds. We are merely doing a favor for your uncle's lawyer in Canada. He has asked us to inform you that if you would travel back to your homeland and visit his law firm then you will inherit a considerable fortune. It seems to be all tied up mostly in real estate......Ah is all that clear."
Elmo shook himself of the ghostly images that were gripping his imagination. His voice had a hollow tone to it when he said,
"Perfectly clear Mr....Cromwell is it? But I have no intention of claiming this inheritance. So you see I cannot help you in this matter."
Now Barnard was shocked out of his stuffiness. He gasped,
"You would be giving up the income from a multi million dollar trust fund. Do you
