Charlie Fitzer’s day is just about to get a lot better. As it begins, he’s divorced (his ex-wife is seeing an investment banker and sharing her fabulous vacations on her Instagram account, which of course Charlie follows), his career has descended from business reporter for the Chicago Tribune to middle-school substitute teacher (thanks to layoffs and a stint caring for his father during his final illness), his bank account is near zero and his main asset is a quarter share of his childhood home, where he has continued to live after his father’s death. His three half-siblings, holders of the other shares, very much want to sell. Then Charlie gets news that his uncle has died. His billionaire uncle. Who had no other close relatives. Also, a kitten adopts Charlie.
His week, however, is just about to get a lot worse. The first real inkling of how bad is when one of the mourners at his uncle’s funeral pulls out a big knife and winds up to stab the corpse. This is how it came to pass: One of his uncle’s minions showed up at Charlie’s house (“He kept tabs on you,” [Mathilda] Morrison [the minion] said. “Discreetly. From a distance. In a way that wouldn’t antagonize your father.” “Well, that doesn’t sound creepy at all,” I said. (p. 25)) and offered to set up a deal that would leave Charlie sole owner of the house and give him enough money to become proprietor of the local pub, something he felt would be much better than substitute teaching. The catch was that he would have to stand for his uncle at the funeral a few days later. Stabbing had not been mentioned in advance. That this might not be an ordinary funeral was indicated by floral arrangements delivered by courier bearing messages such as “See you in Hell” (“It is, however, one of the nicer [messages].” (p. 34)) and “Not soon enough.” Then there were the mourners.