Meet My Imaginary Friends: Syd Jupiter
As Storm entered his office he realized that the reason for the darkness was the size of the man who stood, his back to the room, gazing out the window. He was close to a foot taller than Watson and twice as wide.
“Can I help you?” Watson asked.
The man turned slowly, swept him with dark blue eyes, and in a quiet, lightly-accented voice said, “I thought perhaps it was I who could help you.”
Watson’s knees went weak. “Syd Jupiter,” he stammered.
Syd extended his hand and said, “How do you do.”
Nobody, Watson thought, said ‘how do you do’ anymore. But he extended his hand and watched it disappear into the enormous hand that closed around it.
“What do you want?” Watson asked.
Syd seated himself in the solitary chrome and faux-leather chair across from the desk, crossed his long legs, and folded his hands on his thigh. Watson placed his Dunkin Donuts styrofoam cup on his desk and scurried into the chair behind it. Jupiter wore a perfectly tailored dove-gray silk suit with a dark gray shirt and an exceptionally expensive looking wine-colored tie. That tie, Watson thought, probably cost more than everything he himself wore, including his shoes. His annoyance grew proportionally.
“I asked what you want.”
Syd raised one heavy black eyebrow. “I think it is more a matter of what you want. Since you seem so interested in my life and that of my family, I thought I’d drop by and provide you with the opportunity to ask any questions you might have. Perhaps I can spare you hours of idle speculation.”
Watson shifted uncomfortably. “You read my blog. I guess I should be flattered.”
“I read everything my lawyers forward to me.”
Watson opened his mouth, but his voice seemed to have disappeared.
“If you want to write about us, perhaps you would like to get the facts rather than indulge in fantasy.”
“Hey, I have a right to ask any questions I want to ask.”
“You most certainly do. Which is why I am here to answer them.”
“Okay, answer this then. Why the hell did Old Man Ravenscroft leave a multi-billion dollar estate to the man who murdered his only grandson?”
Much to Watson’s disappointment, Jupiter didn’t bat an eye.
“Once both of his grandchildren were gone and he had only his great-granddaughter as an heir, he decided that the most prudent thing to do would be to leave the estate in the control of the person who loved Anjelica the most.”
“That doesn’t make sense. He knew you had another ten years to serve in prison. Why would he put a prison inmate in charge of billions?”
Syd kept his gaze level and direct and did not betray even a hint of emotion. “He knew I was due to be paroled and that my conduct in prison had been exemplary. If it had been in his power I would have been paroled years earlier.”
“Do you think I believe that? You killed his only grandson.”
“I’m not proud of what happened that night, but Grandfather Ravenscroft knew it was an accident, and once he recovered from the grief, we were able to reconcile and make amends.” Jupiter raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
Watson closed his mouth. He knew there was an insult in that but he wasn’t quite sure what the nature of it was.