Ike Slapp died after surviving two wives and leaving two daughters, one by each wife. Ben was fishing in Montana with Sam when Ike bit the dust, literally and figuratively. Ike’s older daughter took the bull by the horns and arranged Ike’s funeral and burial without consulting Ben or her sister. When Ben got home he found Ike snug in his coffin, buried in a local cemetery with (literally) his first wife.
That’s when the trouble started.
Ike’s first wife had been Catholic, as was his first daughter, Alice. His second wife had been agnostic, as was he and his younger daughter, Rose. The will had named the younger daughter executor and directed his remains be cremated and his ashes spread in the Atlantic Ocean (he had served in the Navy).
When the will was read the fury erupted. “I assumed you knew what Pop wanted when you arranged his funeral so I didn’t interfere,” Rose exclaimed.
“I did what my mother told me to be sure was done. She told me on her death bed in fact,” said Alice.
“I want Pop’s wishes carried out according to the instructions in his will,” Rose said. Oh Hell, thought Ben. Can’t she let the sleeping dog lie. (Ike had been a mad dog in Ben’s judgment, a man just a shade off of honest, though he would never reveal what he knew about that, having learned it as privileged information).
“Let me think about the possibilities a bit,” Ben said to the daughters, then moved on to advising on valuing and dividing Ike’s considerable “stuff” between the girls whom Ike had named equal beneficiaries (Ben hoped Ike’s numerous girlfriends were not going to be making claims on the estate).
After the daughters departed his office, Ben called the mortician and explained the dilemma.
“Oh my,” said Edgar Stiff, senior partner of Stiff & Stone, Oldest Funeral Home in the South, according to its ads printed on church fans it dispensed gratis to all denominations. “That will take an exhumation order, and since Miss Alice had her mother exhumed and her father put beneath her mother it will take a double order, and I’ve never seen one of those,” Stiff said.
“You mean to tell me her mother’s casket was taken out of the ground and her father’s put under it?” Ben said. “Yes, sir, Mr. Ben, crypts too,” Stiff said.
“What will it cost to dig ‘em up, take Ike’s remains out and burn ‘em, put her and her crypt and coffin back in the hole, fill it with dirt and replant the grass? And don’t forget an urn for Ike’s ashes, or cremains as you call them,” Ben said.
“I’ll have to do some figuring on that, Mr. Ben, never had an order just like that,” Edgar Stiff said in his obsequious way.
“Be sure to figure a trade-in credit on Ike’s casket and crypt, I am sure you will resell them,” Ben said in jest.
“Of course,” Edgar said, deadly serious. Apparently he had experience with trade-ins when corpses prepared for horizontal eternal rest got lifted and burned up on second thought.
Ben enjoyed telling the whole saga of Ike’s end-game to Sam when he came by at five for his dram of The Macallan.
First thing next morning Ben called Edgar Stiff and said, “Just so you know, I plan to get at least three bids on the Slapp job.” A long silence followed, then Edgar said, with an even sadder tone than usual, “ I see. I’ll have the numbers to you by noon, I’ll have to review them with Mr. Stone and he’s conducting a ten o’clock service.”
“That will be fine, “ Ben said, stifling a chuckle.
Just before noon Edgar Stiff appeared at Ben’s office, thin envelope in hand which he handed to Joanne. Ben was in his room with the door closed, on the phone negotiating with someone.
“Would it be all right if I waited to speak with Mr. Ben?” Edgar asked timidly. “Of course, Mr. Stiff, take a seat,” said Joanne, and brought him a cup of coffee.
In five minutes Ben emerged and greeted Edgar Stiff. Joanne handed him the envelope bearing in the upper left corner the trademark of Stiff & Stone. Ben opened it and read the numbers. “I’ll be back to you as soon as I can, Edgar.”
Edgar shuffled, then said, “We’ve lined up a back hoe for Monday (it was Friday), so if there will be a delay please let me know so I can cancel it.”
“Certainly,” Ben said, and turned to re-enter his room. “And Mr. Ben, if our bid is not low please call me and perhaps in light of our long history I could lower it a bit more, though we have cut it to the bone.” Joanne stifled a laugh at the mention of bone. Ben said, with a straight face, “Now Edgar, you know that would not be ethical.” As soon as Edgar was out the door Ben and Joanne howled in laughter.
The bid, itemized on ten lines, came to fifteen thousand five hundred dollars.
Ben asked Joanne to call Rose and Alice and have them come in at four to get the news.
The half sisters were primed for battle. “So what will it cost, and understand all but the cremation and a cardboard box for the ashes will be charged to Alice’s share of the estate,” Rose opened.
“No way,” countered Alice.
Ben handed each a copy of Stiff & Stone’s bid. Both blanched.
“I can get other bids, but I doubt they will vary much,” Ben said.
Then he added, “If you all cannot agree on who bears the costs the dispute will have to go to the judge to decide so figure in for each of you the cost of a lawyer, I can not ethically represent either of you on that.”
“What will that cost,” Rose asked.
“Plenty, it’s a case of first impression I think. I did a little research on Google, found no law.”
Rose and Alice asked for advice on lawyers and Ben gave them four names of recent law school graduates. “I recommend you insist on a fixed fee. Case could go up on appeal,” Ben said.
After Alice and Rose left, Ben said to Joanne, “My hope is they will think about the costs and decide to let old Ike rest in peace.”
At the end of the day Ben called Edgar Stiff. “Edgar, better cancel the back hoe for Monday. The ladies are still considering your bid.” Edgar thanked Ben. “By the way, what did you charge for services for Ike’s lay-a-way, and what made you think Alice had authority to give you instructions?” Ben asked as an afterthought.
“I’ll fax you the bill, and it has not been paid. We assumed since Miss Alice was the older daughter she had the say so.”
“Did you ask if there were written instructions from Ike?”
“No, we did not.”
A pregnant silence followed. Then Ben said, “If I could get you paid by tomorrow and guarantee no further dispute about your job on Ike’s carcass, what would you reduce your bill to.”
“From $20,000 to $10,000,” said Edgar Stiff.
“Make it $8,000. If it’s contested on lack of authority in Alice to order it you may get nothing and be ordered to do the burn job for free.” (Ben knew from a mortician client that “burn job” was industry slang for cremation and that all morticians hated the procedure since it was low margin for them).
“Eight thousand then, and a release from the estate and both daughters?” Edgar Stiff said.
“Let me see what I can do,” Ben said and hung up. Then he had Joanne call Alice and Rose and ask them to come see him at three Monday afternoon. Joanne found them both waiting to see a lawyer Ben had recommended. She told neither Ben’s summons was for them both. They were indignant when they met one another in Ben’s waiting room on Monday.
Ben came out of his inner office and ushered Alice and Rose into the library-conference room. Ben sat at the head of the table and Ike Slapp’s daughters took seats across the table from one another, scowls on their faces.
“Ladies, I have a proposition for you to consider. As you know, Stiff & Stone’s funeral bill of $20,000 is unpaid.”
“And the estate won’t pay it because it was contrary to Pop’s written instructions,” Rose interjected.
“But Pop didn’t tell me he wanted cremation and I assumed he and Mother had planned to be buried together based on what Mother told me on her death bed. People don’t lie then,” Alice countered.
“Well, suppose I could get Stiff & Stone to reduce their charges from $20,000 to $6,000, would you both agree the estate can pay it and leave Ike’s remains where they lie?”Ben asked.
The ladies were silent two minutes. First Alice nodded, then Rose.
Ben excused himself and went to his inner office where he dialed Edgar Stiff.
“I can make the deal I proposed if you reduce your bill to $6,000, but I must have your answer within five minutes,” Ben said.
“Let me call you back.” Edgar said, then hung up and called out to his partner Stone who was busy applying makeup to a corpse. “You guessed right, he insists on $6,000.”
“Take it,” said Stone. He hated lawyers and litigation almost as much as cremation. Edgar Stiff dialed Ben’s number. “We will take your offer if we get paid today and the releases.”
Joanne already had them typed. She would walk them signed and with an estate check signed by Rose as executor the two blocks to Stiff & Stone’s establishment.
“As usual it boiled down to money,” Sam said as the curmudgeons reviewed what had happened over three fingers of The Macallan at the end of the day.
Would this funny burial actually happen from your clients!!! I wish Luke could read this. It is hilarious!!