Kingsman: Statesman Meets Challenger

Chapter 8

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"All right," Marissa mused aloud, "we have two problems. One, how to make sure Tiny doesn't inherit, and two, how to make sure Sophia does." She chewed her lip thoughtfully. "But really, maybe we only have one. Italian inheritance law only mandates forced distribution to legal heirs- if Enzo doesn't have a legal heir, he can bequeath his entire property to whoever he wants and no one can say boo- there's no grounds to contest under those circumstances. That skips right over the whole legitimacy problem with Sophia. After all, with no legal heir, what could be more natural than Enzo leaving his fortune to the adored daughter of his lifelong friends?"

Jack and Enrico exchanged speculative glances and just leaned back in their chairs and let Marissa speculate out loud.

Jack in particular was delighted. Enrico was obviously used to watching his sugarplum think her way through a problem -was counting on it- but for Jack it was a new and endearing experience. He didn't find intelligence in a woman threatening- thought it was sexy as all hell instead.

Marissa sipped her brandy and kept talking, swirling the liquid around the inside of her snifter, watching it flow against the delicate glass.

"Enzo divorced that bitch wife of his for adultery, which was proved in court, and part of the divorce settlement was she gave up any and all rights to any marital inheritance, so that keeps her out," she mused.

Enrico snorted. "Aye, la puttana knew as long as Tiny was Enzo's legal heir, even after Enzo's death she could bleed her idiot son for every cent." He muttered a much rougher epithet in Italian under his breath that made Marissa smother a giggle and Jack outright snicker.

Still smiling, Marissa took another sip of brandy, letting it relax her in hopes of serendipitous inspiration. "If I'm remembering my Italian inheritance law right, legal heirs can be disinherited, but the circumstances are fairly dire- murder or attempted murder, false criminal accusation, counterfeiting the will, or using threats or violence to force the testator to alter their will." Serendipity struck, most unusually right on cue, and Marissa sat up straight and looked at Jack. 'Wait a minute, you said the head of Statesman thinks Tiny's being used as a front, didn't you?"

Jack tensed internally. His civilian identity as CEO and VP at Statesman Whiskey would cover a lot of awkward questions, but while this conversation was getting uncomfortably close to his work as an agent, Marissa and Enrico were giving him unfettered access to the kind of intel it would take Merlin and Ginger days or even weeks to uncover, and he couldn't afford to lose it right now.

Enrico sent a sharp look of his own Jack's way, and Jack remembered Marissa commenting Enrico used to smuggle Statesman whiskey in his younger days- what else might Enrico know about Statesman? He was going to need to tread carefully here.

"Champ is no fool," Enrico said, and Jack abruptly realized Enrico was wondering about him as much as he was wondering about the canny old ship captain. "He's got those craggy fingers of his in a hundred pies. What does the old camel think Tiny's up to?"

"Camel?" Jack said with a chuckle, playing for a little time to consider his options.

"He spits," Enrico deadpanned, and Jack had to laugh.

"Yeah," Jack said, letting mild disgust slide over his features. "He does, partner." Deciding he didn't have much to lose, Jack dropped what little info he had to see what it might draw out in return. "Champ thinks someone's trying to use the damn fool idiot as a front for an illegal drug operation, and Statesman ships a good third of our overseas product through diFalco Shipping."