Bad Blood. James Baehler
acted as if he were going to live forever; he drank and smoked and didn’t bother to take care of himself. You know how he was, he never believed that the rules other people lived by applied to him. I suppose we have enough in the bank to live on for another six months or so. I really don’t know. Victor handled all that. I doubt if I’ll even be able to stay in the house. I’ll have to go back to work but I’m sure my income won’t come close to the mortgage payments and upkeep on this house. I’d hate to move and take the kids out of school but I don’t think I have any choice”
Richard said incredulously, “He was a CEO of a good-sized company. He must have made a good salary.”
Marilyn responded, “He did, but what did he do with it? I saw enough to run the house. That was about it.”
Spehn said, “We need to look into this very carefully. If necessary, I might be able to help out. My businesses are doing pretty well and I wouldn’t want to see my sister out on the street.”
She gave a weak smile and said, “That’s good of you, Richard, but I’m sure it won’t come to that. We’ll get along somehow.”
Later that afternoon as Marilyn and Richard were preparing to go to a florist and order some flowers for the wake, the phone rang. Marilyn picked it up. “Hello.”
An unfamiliar voice said, “Is this Mrs. Wallberg?”
“Yes,”
“Mrs. Wallberg, this is Walter Orleans. I’m the attorney for Technical Dynamics.”
“Oh yes, I remember now.”
“Then you know I’m the executor of your husband’s will.”
“No.” She cupped the phone and motioned for her brother to pick up the other phone. “No, I didn’t know. He never told me about a will.”
“Oh…Well then we need to talk. Can you be at my office tomorrow morning at ten? I’m in the office tower at the corner of County Line Road and Route 59.”
“Yes. Sure. I’ll be there.”
“Fine, I’ll see you then.”
She slammed down the phone. “You see what I mean. Wouldn’t you think that a husband would tell his wife that he made a will?”
Spehn shook his head in rueful agreement.
“Richard, I want you to come with me. I haven’t dealt with legal or financial matters since Victor and I got married.”
“No problem, Sis.”
The next day Marilyn Wallberg, dressed in a simple black dress, and her brother arrived on time and were ushered in to Orlean’s office. Richard Spehn’s impression of Orleans was that he seemed to be working hard to give the appearance of a corporate lawyer. He was well dressed in an expensive dark blue suit and a dazzling white shirt. He wore a subdued red tie with a subtle blue stripe, very elegant. He was a medium-sized man in his early sixties with an abundance of thick silvery hair. He exuded confidence as he directed his two visitors to seats next to his mahogany desk. “Thank you for coming, Mrs. Wallberg,” he said in cultivated tones.
“This is my brother, Richard Spehn,” she replied. “He’s been holding me together during this terrible time.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Orleans said with a smile that had a hint of condescension in it. They shook hands
He turned to Marilyn. “From our phone conversation it appears that my news has come as a surprise to you.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” said Marilyn.
“Top executives sometimes have only business affairs on their minds,” said Orleans in explanation of Wallberg’s behavior. Orleans cleared his throat and said, “I have his will here.” He showed it to them. “As you can see it’s dated shortly after your husband assumed control of Technical Dynamics. The will was witnessed by my secretary and our office manager and names me as the executor. The gist of the will is that everything he has is left to you, Mrs. Wallberg, in trust for your two teen-aged children, your daughter who should be fourteen now and your son who should be about seventeen.”
“That’s right.”
“At the time the will was drawn up the only asset of real value was your home and the good news is that when the mortgage was obtained, life insurance was part of the package so that means your home will now be debt free.”
Mrs. Wallberg clapped her hands together as a smile replaced the dour expression on her face. “Oh,” she exclaimed. That is good news.”
“There’s more Mrs. Wallberg.”
“What more?” she said in anticipation.
“The company will continue to pay you the salary your husband earned for another three months. That will provide you with one hundred and twenty thousand dollars minus withholding, social security and so on”
Her eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t expect they would do that. That’s generous.”
“Another bit of good news is that your husband had fifty thousand dollars worth of company life insurance.”
“That will help.”
“The bad news is that the stock options set aside for your husband automatically expired upon his unfortunate demise.”
“What stock options?”
Orleans was surprised and his face showed it. A moment of hesitation and then, “Your husband did not inform you of the stock options awarded to him when he assumed his role as CEO?”
Her voice rising in anger Marilyn said, “I never heard anything about any stock options.”
Momentarily taken aback Orleans said, “I see. Well, the matter is moot now. Those options could not be exercised for two more years anyhow, but as I said, the options expired with your husband’s passing so there is no discussion required.”
Richard Spehn who had been silent until this point leaned forward, placed his hands on the desk, and interjected, “Exactly how much were those options worth, Mr. Orleans?”
“I believe their value would have been around nine million dollars.”
In an insistent voice Spehn said, “Mr. Orleans, would it be possible for you to appeal to the Board of Directors of TCI to restore the options immediately?”
“I will tell them that you have made that request, but frankly I’m not optimistic.”
“Well, please do that. My sister is grateful for the generosity of the company, but after the three months of salary stops, it’s doubtful she will be able to stay in her own home even though the mortgage has been paid. She has two children heading for college and she could return to work but her income would obviously be nowhere near what her husband provided for the family. I envision real financial difficulties for her should she not have immediate access to the stock options.”
Marilyn Wallberg shook her head in frustration. “I can’t believe this. He never said one word to me about stock options.”
“I’ll see what I can do about the options,” Orleans said. “Is there anything I can do to help you with the funeral?”
“No thank you,” Marilyn Wallberg replied. “My husband is to be cremated.”
Orleans, with a questioning look reached for the will and thumbed through it. “I think you should read this clause,” he said handing her the will and indicating a paragraph. “I guess you wouldn’t have known, but the will expressly forbids cremation and requests that he is to be buried next to his parents in Forest Glen cemetery in Maywood. I remember him telling me about their tragic deaths in an automobile accident four years ago.”
With eyes closed and her forehead wrinkled tightly, Marilyn said, “Oh