Richard Erikson was not a man who was easy to rattle. In his twenty plus years practising law in the state of Philadelphia, he had come across several scary situations. Cops pressuring him to sabotage a client's defence, overwhelming evidence brought in by the prosecution, witnesses disappearing, entire firms going after him, none of it had particularly perturbed him. He had taken everything in his stride.

But as he had made his way through the persistent crowd of reporters pushing past the security checkpoints outside the Radisson hotel in Race Street today, for the first time in his life, he had been particularly perturbed by the events that were about to unfold. His client had given him a task, that he had never before attempted in his professional life. As he entered the conference room reserved for the event and rifled through his papers, Richard felt sweat pour out of his palms. Gulping nervously he wiped them on the pants of his grey woollen suit and tried not to think about his potential disbarment or possible prison sentence.

Directing the hired hands to the necessary places, he had them put down the appropriate boxes behind him as he waited for the beneficiaries to arrive. His firm happy with the business he had brought them when he signed to a client ever present in the public eye, had offered him a promotion. Smiling inwardly he accepted it before they realized the risk they might receive if some of the aggrieved parties opted to pursue litigation. 

As the guests began to arrive, he retreated to confer with his associates momentarily and go over all the essential directives he had been asked to follow. Sipping a glass of water and tried to calm his heart before it beat right out of his chest. This meeting if successfully conducted without a hitch, may prove to be the most profitable venture of his life and he would be damned if he let his nerves cost him such a generous opportunity.

Uttering a silent prayer, he returned to the head of the table and looked at the people in attendance. 

Adonis
@WilliamBowden
ArturoStrigliori
GavinAndTaraByrne
JackMezzo
Charlie__Pavanno

These were the social elite of Race Street. Former business associates of his client and people with considerable means but with little patience for falsities. But today, on the directive of Alexander Knight, Richard Erikson would lie right to their faces.

"Gentlemen, Lady, welcome. If I can have your attention please?" He cleared his throat and said which caused all eyes to turn to him. The sight sent a shiver down his spine. "I believe all of you are aware of each other's identity. So, in the interest of dispensing with the formalities and hastening with the process so that all of us can return to our respective schedules quicker, I'd like to skip the introductions and begin. I would also like to advise you to hold all objections or comments till the conclusion."

Richard knew there was no going back now, he had to see things through. Taking a deep breath, he focussed on the paper in front of him and began to read. "The first item on our agenda is the financial reserve of Alexander Knight, kept in the Philadelphia National Bank. A sum of $2 Million, to the St Frances Xavier Hospital for the purpose of providing extensive medical treatment to people of minimal means. Remaining wealth if any to be held in a trust in Zurich National Bank in a blind trust for a period of 5 years after which it is to be provided to government-sponsored charitable organizations. Mister Knight's shares in the organization Troubadour's Records are barred from liquidation for the same period. Power of attorney for day to day operations is granted to Mister Charlie Pavanno."

This was the crucial point, if no one suspected foul play till this point, the rest would be a breeze. He took a moment to glance at the people in front of him but veterans of numerous business interactions in the past, they maintained a stoic poker face. With growing uneasiness, he moved to the personal items hoping to assuage any potential problems.

"Next is the distribution of the material possessions collected and cherished by Alexander Knight. First, a bottle of 1887 Marsela Wine, manufactured in Sicily, allegedly gifted to Mr Knight during his time as a bartender in Los Angeles.."  Richard gestured behind him and an attendant uncovered an old dust stained glass bottle. "Is given to Mr Arturo Strigliori as compensation for the flavour his food brought to the music that Mister Knight created."

Not waiting for a response, Richard continued. "Second, the commemorative Gold Record awarded to Mister Knight for his debut album Emergence, is given to Mister William Bowden as a token of thanks for the success their shared business relationship brought him." The attendant removed another rag and the framed gold record was displayed.

Seeing no point in stopping, he said. "Third, a 1931 Studebaker Roadster, famously owned by Mister Knight for most of his professional career is given to Miss Tara Byrne in the hopes that her nights are spent not in the solitude of her office but with suave strangers in the streets like their first encounter in the city." Another rag was removed revealing a set of keys and a framed picture of the car. 

Having heard no objections at the halfway point he seemed pleased. Inhaling deeply he said. "Fourth, a silver lighter, gifted to Mister Knight after his first successful club performance in Detroit is given to Mister Charlie Pavanno in the hopes that he keeps the flame of passion alive for the years to come and remembers the humiliation of defeat." A rag was removed and placed on purple velvet was the now visible lighter.

Not wanting to linger on the jest his client had added in, Richard said. "Fifth, a vintage 1715 original Stradivarius violin, purchased by Mister Knight soon after his successful headlining of Broadway and delivered after his arrival in Philadelphia, is given to Mister Joe Adonis in the hopes that Mr Adonis's child would never be bereft of music despite his uncle's absence." A rag was carefully lifted and the oldest of the items, a glass case, encasing the violin came into view.

Almost through with the entire ceremony, Richard gestured for the largest and the most expensive, yet the most bizarre item in the will, to be unveiled. The large rag covering the painting that hung on the wall behind him was removed and Richard continued. "Lastly, the famed painting, Rabit In A Snowstorm, first witnessed by Mister Knight on a school trip from his orphanage in Arizona and recently purchased at the Observatory here in Philadelphia is given to Mister Jack Mezzo to express gratitude to someone who understands the solitude of oblivion for offering him the opportunity to create some measure of magic in Philadelphia."

It was done. Richard Erikson had successfully executed a forged will on the directive of a client who was still alive. Whether he got away with it, richer than ever before, or whether he got discovered and lounged in a prison cell for the rest of life, remained to be seen. Hesitantly steeling his voice lest it quiver, he asked. "That is all. Are there any questions?" 

Arturo sat, like his contemporaries, and showed no emotion. He felt over the bottle of wine that Alexander had left for him and allowed a slight smile to escape. It was a nice gesture. A very nice gesture. After a while, the words of the lawyer faded out and Arturo was lost in thought. 

The line between life and death in their business was so thin. So very thin. Thus, the prospect of death must be taken both lightly and heavily. 

There are those that die, and are not known to have died. And then there are those who have not died, yet are known to have died. Arturo wondered which was worse. Nonetheless, afterward he made sure to walk up to the lawyer, a so-called Mr. Erikson.

"Hello Mr. Erikson, yes?" He reached out to shake hands.

"Thank you for seeing to Alexander's estate. I'm sure everyone here appreciates it. A peculiar man, ya know? Quite articulate, rather imaginative. I'd expect no less from a shining musical star."

Arturo reached in closer and whispered, "Do thank him for the wine for me, will you?" 

Arturo patted the lawyer on the back twice before leaving the room.