For the Love of Money

Chapter 1 – THE BEGINNING OF THE END

…Harold timidly made a confession. He had been making some investments with a nice man who kept calling on the phone and coming to visit him.

“What investments are you talking about?” As his financial advisor, Peter was surprised Harold had not consulted him.

Harold slowly pushed back the large armchair and laboriously rose to his feet. He steadied himself for a minute on the old mahogany dining room table, and then shuffled into the living room to a cabinet in the corner of the room. He pulled open the glass door and fumbled through some papers, finally producing a large manila envelope. He held it out to Peter…

Pulling out several papers, Peter glanced at them, and then looked at an ashamed Harold. “Do you know what these papers say, Harold?” He tried not to sound as exasperated as he felt.

“Well…” Harold’s usual halting speech became slower than ever. “I wrote a check. A tax shelter, I think.”

“Harold, this paper is a receipt for your ten thousand-dollar check. But that is only the first of ten installments. You have committed to a one hundred thousand-dollar investment…” The old man looked so dejected, Peter felt terrible for him. The poor guy thinks if someone is nice to him, that person is sincere and interested in his welfare. He has no idea the object of the caller is to make a sale, appropriate or not.

Trying to soften the blow, he hastened to add, “Look Harold, I’ll be glad to check this out for you. But if someone calls you again about anything like this, please call me before you make a commitment.”

…Harold nodded, keeping his eyes on the floor.

…Peter was upset with Harold, but the elderly man was untutored in the ways of the world. His spinster sister, Lorna, had moved out of the Long Island family home two years earlier, wanting more land for her hobby of breeding miniature poodles. Harold was left on his own for the first time in his life. While Harold seemed to enjoy some aspects of his new freedom, like being able to smoke a forbidden cigarette from time to time and being able to move at his own snail’s pace, he must have found freedom fearful as well. Perhaps they all should have realized that dealing with people on the telephone would be too great a challenge for Harold.

A few weeks later, Peter received a call in his office from Lorna Hayes.

“I hope you’re sitting down, Peter.” Lorna barked. “You won’t believe what my dimwitted brother has done now. He let that slick-talking broker sell him another tax shelter - for another one hundred thousand dollars.”

“You’re joking, Lorna. That’s absurd.” Peter rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair.

Lorna continued with urgency. “I told Harold he was stupid and not to talk to salesmen when they call. But he never listens. What can we do about this? Next thing I know, he’ll have lost the house and everything.”

Lorna was angry and feisty, but Peter sensed she felt guilty as well. She had convinced herself that it was all right to move to New Jersey and leave Harold alone since Annette and her husband were there to take care of Harold and the house. …But Harold’s health, both mental and physical, had begun to deteriorate recently, and no one had bargained on problems like this.

Peter listened thoughtfully. “Perhaps Harold should speak with a lawyer. There is such a thing as a voluntary conservatorship, if he would agree to have someone else in charge of his finances, to pay the bills, that kind of thing. Then the conservator would have to be consulted on any financial decisions…like buying these useless tax shelters.” Peter was not sure how Lorna would receive the suggestion, but it was the best one he could come up with at the moment.

“Peter Spencer, now you’ve finally had a good idea.’ Relief sounded in her voice. “That’s just what he needs. I can hardly keep up with my own bills and papers. Then when I go out there, I have to pay his bills too. There are always late charges or he loses the bills completely. Harold’s lawyer passed away a few years ago. Can you find someone who would go to the house and meet with him?”

“I’ve had some dealings with a Trust and Estates lawyer in New York City named Frank Damon. His firm is well-respected, and I think Harold will like him. Do you want me to bring up the subject with Harold or will you?”

“He won’t listen to me, so you’d better do it. And right now, I might add.”

…Harold did agree to meet with Peter and Frank Damon, and their first meeting took place on Long Island two weeks before Christmas. Most of the time was spent socializing over Harold’s lunch of choice, ham on white and chocolate cake. Harold seemed comfortable with Frank, and when the subject of a Conservatorship was brought up, Harold was receptive. The concept was explained in detail, and Harold kept saying he understood and would be relieved to have the help.

…As the two younger men rose from the table, Frank addressed Harold. “Now Mr. Hayes, we’ve talked about many things and have given you a lot to think about. Why don’t you consider all this over the holidays, perhaps discuss it with your sister if you wish, and then we can all get together again in January? Is that agreeable?”

“Yeess. That’s okay.”

As they walked to the car, Peter breathed a sigh of relief. “Good for Harold, he understands what needs to be done. Lorna will be satisfied that the problem will be solved, and Harold will be safe.”

Frank chuckled. “Let’s just hope this overzealous broker doesn’t want some extra funds for his holiday spending. Harold isn’t out of harm’s way yet.”