On what would be the final weekend of his life, Tom Carvel drove to his country home in upstate New York, deeply depressed. He’d built a namesake national chain of 850 ice cream shops, developing some of the fast-food and franchising concepts that changed how America eats. His sandpaper-voiced pitches in commercials—“Thinny-Thin for your fatty-fat friends,” he said in one spot—had made Carvel a household name. He golfed with Bob Hope and did a guest turn on Late Night With David Letterman. He had recently sold his chain for $80 million, but he held on to a 100-room motel, 40 properties leased to Carvel franchisees, and a golf course in Dutchess County, New York. At 84, Carvel still was going to work every day.
But there were deepening problems inside his empire. Carvel confided to an associate that he no longer trusted Mildred Arcadipane, his corporate secretary of 38 years, or Robert Davis, his longtime lawyer and close financial adviser. Carvel had come to believe that they were scheming behind his back, maybe stealing from him. After agonizing for months, he arrived at his country home on Saturday determined to march into his office on Monday and fire his lawyer and relieve his secretary—a mercurial woman, according to many who knew her—of her considerable power.
But Carvel never got the chance. He was found dead in his bed that Sunday morning in 1990, the victim, it appeared, of a heart attack. Instead of being dismissed and demoted, Davis and Arcadipane returned to work and began to take command of Carvel’s business and personal finances. The Carvel estate, officially valued at $67 million, spurred what one lawyer calls a “feeding frenzy”; nearly 18 years later, a bitter fight rages on. In most estate battles, family members square off against one another. But the principal fault lines in this case have put Davis, Arcadipane, and the multimillion-dollar charity that Carvel left behind on one side, and Carvel’s widow, Agnes, and his niece Pamela Carvel on the other. The Carvels had no children, and Agnes “was frozen out of everything,” Pamela contends. “She was denied millions that Tom wanted her to receive.”
In 2007, after years of digging by private investigators in Pamela’s employ, the case took a bizarre turn. Pamela filed a lawsuit in U.S. District Court in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, alleging that Carvel’s death resulted in “fraudsters…controlling all Carvel funds to the exclusion of the Carvels.” She asked that her uncle’s body be exhumed for an autopsy to determine if he was murdered as part of the alleged scheme. The petition concludes with a question: “Will the truth finally be known?” And with that, one of the most contested estate fights in New York history also became a murder mystery.
Full Article and Source:
Cold Case
But there were deepening problems inside his empire. Carvel confided to an associate that he no longer trusted Mildred Arcadipane, his corporate secretary of 38 years, or Robert Davis, his longtime lawyer and close financial adviser. Carvel had come to believe that they were scheming behind his back, maybe stealing from him. After agonizing for months, he arrived at his country home on Saturday determined to march into his office on Monday and fire his lawyer and relieve his secretary—a mercurial woman, according to many who knew her—of her considerable power.
But Carvel never got the chance. He was found dead in his bed that Sunday morning in 1990, the victim, it appeared, of a heart attack. Instead of being dismissed and demoted, Davis and Arcadipane returned to work and began to take command of Carvel’s business and personal finances. The Carvel estate, officially valued at $67 million, spurred what one lawyer calls a “feeding frenzy”; nearly 18 years later, a bitter fight rages on. In most estate battles, family members square off against one another. But the principal fault lines in this case have put Davis, Arcadipane, and the multimillion-dollar charity that Carvel left behind on one side, and Carvel’s widow, Agnes, and his niece Pamela Carvel on the other. The Carvels had no children, and Agnes “was frozen out of everything,” Pamela contends. “She was denied millions that Tom wanted her to receive.”
In 2007, after years of digging by private investigators in Pamela’s employ, the case took a bizarre turn. Pamela filed a lawsuit in U.S. District Court in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, alleging that Carvel’s death resulted in “fraudsters…controlling all Carvel funds to the exclusion of the Carvels.” She asked that her uncle’s body be exhumed for an autopsy to determine if he was murdered as part of the alleged scheme. The petition concludes with a question: “Will the truth finally be known?” And with that, one of the most contested estate fights in New York history also became a murder mystery.
Full Article and Source:
Cold Case
4 comments:
This is a tragic reminder that when there's a lot of money, there indeed is a feeding frenzy as well -- the bottom feeders come up for the tastiest morsels.
On a case like this, the first thing should have been to treat the location as a crime scene. Autopsy at the time of discovering the victim, would have been #1 priority in my book.
Feeding frenzy is right - this makes me sick.
If there is any wrongdoing here, I hope they get the and the perps choke on their loot.
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