Malcolm said, “Every night, when the clock strikes midnight and the new day begins, I will sign a new will. Leaving everything I own to one person. You will not know who that person is and he or she will only be heir to everything for the course of that one day. If I die during that day, that person will get everything. But as soon as the day is done and the clock strikes twelve again, I will change the will to make a new person my heir. You will each get a turn. You don’t know when it is your turn. You don’t know if I will die on your day. If I do, and I am indeed very close to death, you are rich. If I go on breathing and the time has passed, you have nothing.”
The word rang in Theodora’s ears. Nothing. Nothing!
Her hands clenched in her lap. She had always been the one left with nothing. When Malcolm’s first wife had died at last, he hadn’t looked at Theodora. He had found Cecily and married her, and because of her meddling he had even let Theodora go. She had lost her job, her nearness to him, Malcolm himself. She had always had nothing. Now it was time to get everything.
But how?
Her mind raced to understand what Malcolm wanted with this. Just a game? A wager? A chance for all of them if he lived long enough?
Who would he choose first?
Malcolm said, “I must explain the following to you. When I told my lawyer, Koning here, that I wanted to do this, he pointed out a danger to me. He said – and I hope that you don’t mind that I put it as bluntly as he did – ‘If you tell them this, they might think that by killing you they can get the inheritance.’”
Nobody spoke. Nobody acted indignant. They all waited as if he had just made a very interesting suggestion.
“I retorted and said, ‘How can they kill me if they don’t know if they will inherit?’ Koning said, ‘They can take a gamble. They can make a deal among each other.’ I said to him, ‘But suppose one of them kills me and then the will is opened and another is found to be heir, then the police who are called in to handle the murder case might think that that heir killed me. The person who didn’t harm me at all might be hung for my murder.’”
The silence was deep and icy now like the heart of December.
Malcolm said, “If I die and there is a suspicion of murder, there will be a police investigation. There will be officers here around the house looking for evidence. It can point at one of you or several of you. Maybe even all of you, as you can all have suspected the will held your name that particular day. But the police cannot lock up everybody present. They will focus their attention on one suspect. Will question, collect evidence, make an arrest, bring charges. And maybe that person persecuted will not be the real killer. So we have a couple of scenarios. Number one: I die a natural death and the person who inherits it all got it by chance. Just lucky. Number two: I die an unnatural death and the person who inherits it all is charged with my murder. Then he gets nothing.”
“If it can be proven that he killed you,” Howard Jones said.
They all looked at him.
Howard shrugged. “That’s a fact, isn’t it?”
Malcolm nodded. “Very astute. He gets nothing if the others can prove he killed me. If they can however prove no such thing, he might have killed me and still get away with everything I own. The entire inheritance.”
“But wait a minute,” Hugh said. “What if the person mentioned in your will on the day you die didn’t kill you, but the others point the finger at him or her anyway?” His voice trembled.
Malcolm said, “That’s possible, I admit. I’m taking a risk here – after all, I’m risking getting murdered – so you’ll also have to risk something. Being wrongly accused and perhaps even prosecuted and convicted.”
“That’s insane,” Howard said. “No one will want to be a part of this.”
Malcolm smiled at him. “Speak for yourself, Howard. If you don’t want to be a part of this, you can leave. Nobody obliges you to stay here. But I’m saying this: if you leave, I’m not filling in your name. I’m only filling in names of people who are actually staying here at the villa.”
Howard said, “That’s hardly fair.”
“Shut up,” Cecily said. Her voice rose. “If you leave, you don’t deserve any of the money.” Her eyes were wide and sparkly. “Are you going to start tonight, Malcolm?”
The way she caressed his name made red hot anger rush through Theodora’s veins. The little bitch. Suddenly acting like she loved him again. But she never had. Not even when she was still married to him. She had been carrying on with Howard behind Malcolm’s back. Theodora had seen them, watched them. She had taken photographs of them, meaning to send them to Malcolm. She never had, but she still had them. Perhaps they could be of some use now?
“Yes,” Malcolm said. “Tonight at the stroke of midnight I will sit at my desk and I will fill in the name of the first person.”
Theodora’s heart beat fast. What if it was her? What if Malcolm’s conscience spoke and he would fill in her name? Would he die in the next day?
Would she be sad if he did?
Or would it be a relief?
Perhaps only death could break the power Malcolm had over her.
* * *
Kenneth couldn’t quite decide whether he found Uncle Malcolm’s idea about this will wager very intriguing or outright insane. All he knew was that his mother was looking like she was spending the money already, while his father was deadly pale and struggling to sit still.
A chair moved across the floorboards, and Kenneth saw Anna Cane rise and leave the room. Malcolm didn’t even look up as she went out, but Kenneth couldn’t bear to remain seated, and stood up as well, rushing after her.
“Where are you going?” he called, catching up with her on the stairs. “What are you going to do?”
Automatically he took hold of her bare arm. Her skin burned under his fingers as if he was touching some forbidden thing, but still he didn’t retract his hand.
“I’m leaving,” Anna said in a shocked, breathless voice. “I found Mr Bryce-Rutherford a quite peculiar employer before, but this is outrageous. I have nothing to do with him or his family. I don’t want him to fill in my name as sole heir to his fortune. I don’t want to run the risk of being named heir on the very day he dies and the police coming in and accusing me of murder.”
Anna’s eyes were wide and panicky as she spoke faster and faster. “I’m a nurse. I have medication at hand. If one of the others uses the medication to kill my patient, suspicion will immediately fall on me. I could end up in prison or even be hung for a fortune I never wanted any part in. I’m leaving right now. You heard him. He only fills in the names of people who are staying here at the villa. If I leave right now, he won’t choose me as the first person. Everything will be fine.”
“But where will you go? What will you do? Do you know people here, can you stay with anyone?”
Anna shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. “I don’t know anybody and I don’t speak French either. I haven’t got enough money for a ticket back to London. But I’ll think of something.”
She looked down on the arm he was holding. “I can sell my mother’s watch. I inherited it from her when she died. It’s all I have of her. But I can sell it. I will have to. I can’t stay here.”
“No, Anna, please…” Kenneth increased the pressure on her arm, then released it again, still holding her so she couldn’t run away up the stairs. “He won’t fill in your name. Not on the first day anyway. Consider it. There are other people he will choose first. He’s doing this as a test. Don’t you see? He wants to know if they will try and kill him. If he can trust them. His own relatives and his old friends. He’ll choose Hugh first or my father.”
Kenneth’s stomach squeezed when he said it. Would his own father attempt to kill someone?
No. He wouldn’t want to take the risk. He always calculated and he’d realize how risky this was.
Stronger, he continued, “Uncle Malcolm will fill in my mother maybe, as he was married to her, but not you.”
Anna held his gaze. “You have it all worked out. You name your father and your mother as if it doesn’t matter.”
Kenneth shrugged pretending there was no tight band around his throat. “They’ll not kill for money. They’re not that daring.”
“And you? Are you not afraid? He might choose you as sole heir and if he dies on that very day, and the death is suspicious, and the police come here…”
Kenneth smiled. “I know I will not kill him. And if I don’t kill him, they can’t prove anything against me.”
Anna shook her head violently. A tear trickled down her cheek. “It’s not that simple. What if the police here are not as thorough as they are at home? They might just accuse somebody. If they question you, you can’t even understand what they ask.”
“I know a little French,” Kenneth protested. It had been enough to make Marie laugh.
Marie! It seemed like a lifetime ago he had lain in the grass with her wondering if he dared take her hand. That had been about nothing. This was about everything. Anna’s stay here, her mother’s silver watch. He had to protect her, shield her from harm.
He caressed her arm with his fingertips. “Don’t go. Not today. Another day. Tomorrow we were going to take the boat out, remember? Let’s do that. Let’s have fun. Maybe he dies and the will is opened and… everything will be all right.”
Anna looked at him. “If I get accused, who will stand by me?”
“I will. I swear. Now come back into the dining room.” He put his arm in front of her so she couldn’t move up but had to turn around.
Her eyes were still shimmering, but a smile wavered on her lips.
Feeling like he could conquer the world, Kenneth ushered her down the stairs again and back into the dining room.
Malcolm looked at the both of them as they came in. “Are you leaving, Miss Cane?” he asked quietly.
Anna shook her head. “I’m sorry. I was upset for a moment. My mother died recently and talking about death just…” She raised a hand to her face. “I’m feeling better now.” She sat down again.
Malcolm smiled at Kenneth. “You seem to be a persuasive person, boy. To reward you for keeping the lovely Miss Cane at the villa, I could fill in your name first. In…” He looked at the clock. “…four hours I could be writing it down.”
Kenneth’s heart skipped a beat. He could just see the pen hovering over the paper and then filling in his name, letter by letter. Would he suddenly own horses? Cars?
“Don’t you dare,” Howard growled. “Don’t you dare involve a mere boy in this charade of yours.”
“But Father…” Kenneth protested.
Malcolm hitched a brow. “Kenneth is a minor. If he was to inherit it all, you and Cecily would keep the fortune for him until he turns of age. Wouldn’t that be splendid? Almost as good as inheriting yourself.”
Cecily looked straight at him. She said in a strange high-pitched voice, “Will you do it? Will you fill in Kenneth as heir when the clock strikes twelve?”
Malcolm held her gaze. “I will not reveal my choice. That would spoil all the fun.”
“Fun?” Howard rose. The legs of his chair squeaked across the polished floor. “It’s not fun. It’s not a game.” He left the room in a rush.
Kenneth looked at his mother. She rose at once. “I’ll talk to him. There’s no way we’re leaving.”
She rushed out of the room as well.
Malcolm laughed softly.
Theodora said, “You’re enjoying this.” Her long thin nose moved like a dog who is smelling something obnoxious. Every time Kenneth looked at her he was glad she had never been his teacher. He bet she hit boys on the hands with a ruler. As hard as she possibly could.
Malcolm said brusquely, “Of course I’m enjoying this. It’s the only joy I will have out of my money since I will soon be dead.” He pushed himself up on the table’s surface.
Koning came to support him, and the butler popped up as well. Kenneth wasn’t sure where he had come from so suddenly. Had he listened to everything everyone had said? Would he know something about what his master intended? Kenneth had once heard that every will needed two witnesses to be valid. So who could those witnesses be? The butler? And…?
The two men guided their shaking host out of the room.
“We should all leave,” Hugh said. “Then he can’t make any of us heir.”
Patty said, “You don’t want to leave. This is the only way you will ever earn enough money to finish your ruddy book and your statues.”
She got up and poured herself a drink, gulping it down in three drafts. The red gem in the necklace around her neck shone with fire.
Remembering his coughing fit earlier because the liquor had been so strong, Kenneth admired her. The American bride had more spirit than her groom. And she looked amazing in that dress.
He met Anna’s gaze a moment and saw sadness in her eyes. Perhaps because she couldn’t afford such a dress or a gem to wear?
If he had money, if he had all of Uncle Malcolm’s money, he could buy her dresses and jewels and… whatever else she wanted. He’d ask her tomorrow during the boat trip what she liked, what she dreamed of. They’d fantasize together about what life could be if they had money and opportunity.
And he had to convince her to stay, no matter what Uncle Malcolm was planning with this whole inheritance idea.
Kenneth clenched his hands into fists in his lap, thinking about it, the idea building in his mind until it enclosed his entire world. He had to convince her, any way he knew how.
They had met here for a reason, and Kenneth didn’t want Anna Cane to vanish from his life ever again.
Chapter Four
Patty really didn’t understand why the mood had been so bleak after Uncle Malcolm’s grand revelation. Wasn’t it a marvellous idea that they all had a chance to become sole heir to his entire fortune?
Of course, it would have been better if he had just made her sole heir to begin with, but if he wanted to do it this way, he was entitled to. Hugh was just a spoilsport to have no stomach for this game. He didn’t like risks and he certainly didn’t like the idea he could lose out to somebody else.
Patty listened to her husband’s heavy breathing as he lay, face down, beside her in the double bed. He had gulped down several glasses of whiskey and was now completely oblivious to the world. While she normally wouldn’t encourage his drinking, it was now very convenient to her that he wouldn’t notice a thing when she crawled out of bed.
Lightning put the room in a bright white glare for a second, then died down. Moments passed before thunder rolled in the distance. The storm hadn’t yet reached the villa. Despite the reassurances that there were higher points it could strike, Patty’s heartbeat fluttered and she rubbed gooseflesh off her arms. She pushed away the sheet and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Feeling her way through the room, she picked up her dressing gown and slipped it on over her silk nightdress.
At the door she listened carefully, first to determine Hugh was still asleep, then whether there was anyone in the corridor outside the room. With the storm brewing it was possible people couldn’t sleep and went out of their rooms to get some milk, or a book to read, from Malcolm’s library.
Yes, needing a book to read would be the perfect excuse to hang around, and catch a glimpse of the signing of the will. It was happening in his study, he had said, and the study was adjacent to the library. Wouldn’t it be easy to make a small mistake and enter the wrong room?
In the corridor little lamps burned along the wall, shedding just enough light to be able to move around. Malcolm seemed to dislike the dark. Or perhaps it had been arranged for by the nurse who had to rush to Malcolm’s bedside at any hour? Anna Cane had struck Patty as a young lady who liked to make demands, just to see how far she could get with them.
Still it was a good thing the nurse hadn’t left. The more suspects, the better.
Downstairs in the hallway the grandfather clock struck twelve.
That’s my cue.
Patty tiptoed down the corridor, making sure to stay on the carpet so nothing thudded or creaked. Thunder rolled again sounding like a stack of cans collapsing. Her heart beat so fast she could barely breathe.
In front of the door leading into the study she halted. Malcolm was a man of his word, a man who liked punctuality. He’d be signing his document now.
She opened the door a crack and peeked in.
Behind a huge desk Malcolm sat leaning over a sheet of paper. His trembling right hand held a pen, and he was just scribbling something. The name?
Patty’s stomach tightened at the idea it could be Patricia Bryce-Rutherford he was writing. It was quite a long name. But then Hugh Desmond Bryce-Rutherford was about as long. And Theodora Cummings wasn’t exactly short either. Anna Cane was, but Malcolm wouldn’t make the nurse his heir. Not on the first day anyway.
Maybe as he ran out of heirs to use.
After all, he had said everybody would only get one turn.
How unfair. To think that if he lived long enough, some unimportant person like that nurse or the butler would get it all.
He’d better not live that long then.
Malcolm looked up, and for a moment Patty could have sworn he looked straight at her. She didn’t make the mistake to move. She stood firmly, holding her hand on the knob so the door didn’t move either. She had stood just as firmly as she had made her wedding vows to Hugh. Knowing this was something she had to go through to reach something better. Something she deserved.
Malcolm shoved the document away from him, and Koning looked it over. He then gestured to the two other men present to sign it. The skeletal butler and the rugged, probably French, chauffeur.
Patty’s breath caught. Would they know the name that was filled in? Could she bribe them, entice them somehow to tell her what name the document held on that particular day?
They were but servants with meagre pay. They might be open to the promise of a rich reward. After all, once she had inherited the fortune, she could fulfil their every dream.
A Testament to Murder Page 4
