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“Taxes? What taxes?”
“I’ll need to take a look at Ed Sr’s. final tax return,” Stone said. “Then you can decide how much time you’re willing to do.”
EIGHTEEN
At mid-morning the next day Joan came into Stone’s office. “Yes, sir?”
Stone tapped on a stack of files on his desk. “I’ve been through all this, and it appears that Ed Sr. had declared all the cash in the U.S. Trust box as income and paid taxes on it. The estate, of course, pays any further taxes due to the IRS and the state, and everything else is yours, free of taxes.”
“How much, net to me?”
“The investment accounts are, as you might imagine, fat. And together they contain about three hundred million dollars, after any taxes. My best guess is $375,000,000, not including the cash in the Troutman Trust boxes, which has not, so far, been reported. Let’s call that another five million.”
“So, I’m worth $380,000,000?”
“Considerably more than that. We haven’t talked about thereal estate and other property. Add another $100,000,000 for that, so well over $450,000,000.”
“Whew!” Joan said.
“Now, let’s talk about greed.”
“ ‘Greed’?”
“How greedy are you?”
“So-so greedy, I guess.”
“There’s a way to get the Troutman cash out of the country and into an offshore bank account, too. But there’s a risk,” Stone said.
“Tell me about it.”
“I fly you down to the Bahamas, and we check into a nice hotel for a few days. The next day, you charter a light airplane, under an assumed name, and you fly to Georgetown, in the Cayman Islands, south of Jamaica, no more than an hour’s flight. You take your luggage off the charter and to a bank in the city—there are many to choose from. You open a numbered account—no name on it—and deposit your cash there. Then you fly back to the Bahamas, lie on the beach for a few days, then fly home. The bank will issue you a credit card that works anywhere in the world, drawing on your Cayman cash.”
“What’s the risk?”
“You have to fill out a form before you leave the States declaring any funds or financial instruments that amount to more than ten thousand dollars. Lying on that form is a felony, with a big fine, forfeiture of your cash, and, maybe, jail time. But U.S. Customs may neglect to inspect your luggage.”
“And the alternative?”
“Declare the cash to the IRS now, pay the taxes, and live happily ever after.”
“I like that one,” she said. “I’m rich enough without cheating the IRS.”
“So you won’t be vacationing in the Bahamas?”
“Maybe next year, sans cash.”
“I am greatly relieved,” Stone said.
“I’m going to spend the weekend at my new house, going through Aunt Annetta’s things and deciding what to keep.”
“You might look around the house and see if there are any pictures or sculptures that you can’t stomach, and put together a list for auction. Same with jewelry.”
“Good idea.”
“I must say, your aunt Annetta had very good taste in furnishings and décor.”
“She had dreadful taste in those things,” Joan said. “Ralph Lauren has good taste. His people did the whole place.”
