by Beth Byers
Ro thought of her prized yacht, all broken up, and was surprised at the intensity of loss she felt for her beloved boat. She was quickly embarrassed to realize it hurt more to lose the yacht than it did to lose Leonard. Well, maybe it did. Maybe it was all wrapped up into one messy feeling. What she mourned for Leonard was more about what would never be instead of grieving that she’d lost something so precious. Any lingering hopes she’d had that Leonard might one day see the error of his ways and love her as she’d loved him in the beginning were dashed against the rocks the same as the yacht had been. It was a horrid metaphor for what her life had become. Wreckage.
“Ro, where’d your thoughts go, darling? You look suddenly seasick.”
Ro dismissed Hettie’s concern with a wave of her hand. “My foolish mind simply strayed to thoughts of what might have been, had Leonard lived to the see the light about his treatment of me and our marriage. Bygones, really. Nothing can come of that line of thinking. I’ll take Reginald, Greyson, Stewart, and Cooper the solicitor.” She looked at her watch. “It’s time for lunch. Shall we eat then go our separate ways? We can meet back here for supper and discuss our findings.”
“That sounds divine, Ro. I’ll call for our lunches to be brought to the sunroom.”
“You have a sunroom tucked away?”
Hettie shrugged. “Money can’t buy love or happiness, but it can purchase luxuries beyond reason. I suppose if you can’t have the one, you may as well have the other. Me, I’d as soon have abiding love in a modest cottage than all of this.” She waved her hand around and placed emphasis on the word ‘this’ as though she were describing a mitten heap. “But we work with what we’ve got. If I can’t have love, riches beyond measure is a good second, I suppose.”
Chapter 10
Peterson dropped Ro at the Ripley residence so she could make use of her own driver, since they’d made the decision to interview separate people. As they approached, Ro thought she’d sick up. The last time she’d returned to her residence—the residence she’d shared with Leonard and had grown to hate—she’d still thought her husband was alive. It seemed like weeks had passed since the bottle party where she and Hettie had cemented their friendship. Turned out the fates must have been smiling on both her and Hettie. Ro was keenly aware that this entire post-mortem experience would be different without her newfound friend.
Instead of sneaking in through the servant’s entrance like she would have if Leonard were alive, she had Peterson stop at the front of their not-so-modest home. Maurice was outside on the steps waiting for her before Peterson even closed the door behind her.
“Mrs. Ripley. We’re so glad you’re back. We were—I was—concerned about you. We’ve heard the bad news about Mr. Ripley’s passing. You must be distraught.”
Hearing Leonard’s last name twice in the same sentence was more than she could take.
“Hello, Maurice. Wonderful to see you as well. Gather the staff and meet me in the library in twenty minutes. Oh, and call the car around for me, would you please?”
“Of course, Mrs. Ripley.”
She shivered involuntarily. “You can call me Ms. Lavender. I’ll not be using the Ripley surname any longer. Have you heard from Reginald since we learned of Leonard’s fate?”
“Yes. He was here briefly. Forgive me if I overstepped but he made a call to Mr. Cooper, your solicitor, that I don’t believe I was supposed to hear. As, ah, difficult as Mr. Ripley could be, his brother was worse and I feel it is my duty to pass on to you what I’ve heard.”
Of course Reginald was talking with Mr. Cooper. Ro’s blood began to simmer. She squeezed her hands into fists and felt the tips of her fingernails digging into the fleshy palms of her hands, but she did her best to keep her face passive.
“Thank you, Maurice.” She could feel her calm demeanor slipping. Deep breath, Ro. “Please continue.”
“He spoke of making sure you didn’t get anything, that he suspected you were behind his brother’s death, and that he needed to meet with Mr. Cooper right away.”
Ro’s simmering anger threatened to erupt at Maurice’s words.
“Thank you, Maurice.”
“You mustn’t worry, Mrs. Ri—”
At her stern look he changed his words. “You mustn’t worry, Ms. Lavender. Of course we all know you are much too gentle to have had anything to do with Mr. Ripley’s death.” He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “Even though you had more of a right than anyone to, er, find freedom.”
Ro’s eyes widened at the statement, and she could feel her face flush. She felt humiliation that even the servants knew how badly Leonard treated her.
“I’ll gather the staff and we’ll meet you in the library in thirty minutes and have the car brought around.”
She regained her composure after Maurice walked away. Silently she breathed in relief that he was leaving her alone to recover from such a bold statement. Her anger felt fractured, pointing in so many directions at once. She was angry at Leonard for dying. She was angry at Reginald for his accusation, as unfounded and ridiculous as it was. She was angry at herself for staying in a situation for so long that even the staff knew Leonard was playing her for a fool. She’d thought several times about separating her household from Leonard, but she hadn’t been ready to accept the reality of the situation.
She slammed the front door behind her and went to the library. She needed to make a few telephone calls, starting with Mr. Cooper.
She asked for Mr. Cooper’s office and waited while first the switchboard operator and then the receptionist at his office put the call through. She didn’t much care for solicitors, but as they went, Cooper seemed to be an honest one, if a little thin and bony.
“Mrs. Ripley,” he said in a too-high voice, “may I begin by offering my condolences. This must be a difficult time for you.”
“Mr. Cooper,” was all she could muster in reply. Her head was still spinning from Reginald’s accusation and the knowledge that he was meddling with Leonard’s solicitor.
Silence hung between them until Ro launched headlong into her inquiries. No time like the present to have these conversations.
“Mr. Cooper, I have several matters to discuss with you. I can be to your office in an hour. Is that acceptable?”
“Yes, of course, Mrs. Ripley. You and your husband were—are—valued clients. We’ll be ready for you. Shall I send a car?”
“That won’t be necessary. See you in an hour.”
She spent the next few minutes gathering her thoughts. She didn’t want Reginald back in her home so she’d need to ask Cooper what her rights were concerning the house. With any luck, he’d simply stay away, but in case he didn’t, she needed to know her options.
Regardless of the outcome of that conversation, there were things that would change about her home now that Leonard no longer lived.
As the staff gathered in the library, most of them looking very nervous, Ro watched them. She watched the way they walked and how they adjusted their uniforms with anxious hands. Leonard had created a hostile environment where fear was the primary motivation. She aimed to change that immediately.
“Thank you all for coming. As I’m sure you’ve all learned by now, Leonard has died in a tragic boating accident, along with many others. There will be a police investigation as they suspect foul play was involved.”
A few muffled gasps ricocheted around the room and then silence fell once more.
“My husband was cruel to the lot of you and unfortunately I wasn’t able to do anything about that. No more. There are going to be changes taking effect immediately.”
It appeared as though nobody was even breathing while they waited to hear her proclamations. She continued.
“First, please call me Ms. Lavender. I will no longer be using the Ripley family name. Second, I’m meeting with our solicitor to discuss what will happen with Leonard’s estate. Until then, go on with your duties as normal. Except”—she looked at the housekeeper, Mrs. Marion—"p
lease adjust the schedules to be only eight hours long. No more twelve hour shifts.”
“Yes, Ms. Lavender. Thank you.”
“I should like to assure all of you that you can rest easy. You will have fair treatment now that Leonard is no longer with us. Hopefully this investigation will be over soon and we can establish a new routine for all of us. Until then, take heart. You no longer need to fear the wrath of Leonard Ripley.”
Around the room, shoulders relaxed, smiles appeared and broadened, and Ro saw the visible relief they had at his passing and she felt the tiniest bit of redemption for her conflicting thoughts about Leonard’s death.
“Maurice, is the car ready for me?”
“Yes, Ms. Lavender. Right this way.”
She sat in the backseat trying to focus her thoughts, as her driver, Gerald, sped her towards Fleet Street and Mr. Cooper’s office. She wanted to ask about the house and Leonard’s estate. She wanted to find out what Reginald was up to and she wanted to ask about Leonard’s business dealings with Greyson and Stewart. She felt the order in which she approached these topics would perhaps make a difference in how helpful Mr. Cooper would be.
She entered the office ready to continue her contemplation until she was called to see Cooper. She didn’t have to wait to be seen.
“Mrs. Ripley, Mr. Cooper is ready for you. Right this way.” A handsome woman with long brown hair stood as Ro walked into the reception area.
The receptionist led her to Mr. Cooper’s office and he stood as Ro walked through the doors.
“Thank you, Elizabeth,” Mr. Cooper said, and she disappeared without a sound. “Mrs. Ripley, please have a seat.”
It galled her to allow him to continue calling her by her married name, but until she got a feel for where Cooper’s loyalty lay, she’d be sweeter than honey. She’d need his help in the event she had to actually clear her name. Somehow she didn’t think the handsome, yet annoying detective would take it that far, but she was not willing to lose the freedom she’d so recently, if tragically, gained. She obediently took a seat even though she felt like standing.
“As you know, my husband was in a tragic boating accident. That leaves me with a few questions regarding the household as well as the rest of Mr. Ripley’s estate.”
Saying his name turned her stomach sour, but here she was, with not much choice.
“Yes, and I have information for you. Your husband made recent changes to his will. It was quite surprising at the time. Leonard made you the executor of his estate and the sole beneficiary to all of his fortunes, including his properties.”
“You must be joking!”
“I am not. I do fear, however, that he was, although he didn’t live long enough to take it back.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your husband came into my office last week and changed his will, leaving everything to you. First he had me draft a letter to his brother, Reginald, notifying him that he’d been removed from Leonard’s will. It was meant to be a joke, I think. To be honest, however, he had me both draft a letter and provide a copy of the changed will.”
“A joke?” Ro pressed her finger between her brows and wondered if this will was the reason she was the subject of the investigation. What if Reginald had spoken to the police? What if Reginald had told them of the prank and then made it clear that she had a small window of opportunity to kill Leonard and claim the money.
It was, she thought, a rather disturbing and easily believable theory. She sighed deeply. “My goodness, what a cruel thing to do.”
“Mr. Leonard Ripley made it sound like a joke, but he insisted on all the formalities except in a strange order. First, he had me draft the letter to his brother without having actually changed the will, then he had me draft a version of the will and send it off, and finally he insisted on completing the change. It was all very odd, I thought, to threaten the change and then follow through with it. My job, of course, is to do whatever my client asks for and so I did. He said he needed to make a point to his brother and that likely he’d be back in a week or two to make additional changes, depending on the outcome of the business he had with Reginald.”
“I see.” Ro was dumbfounded. “You mean to tell me that in a continuation of the lifelong brotherly feud, Leonard threatened to leave everything to me, made sure Reginald knew about it, actually left everything to me, and—given what I know of the two—was most likely going to blackmail his brother to get whatever result he was looking for, then he was going to remove me from the will again.”
“Of course, he said nothing to me about blackmail. That wouldn’t be ethical. Speaking of the will, when would you like to conduct the official reading?”
“I’ll think on it.” Without missing a beat, she waved off his question and returned to her original thought. “So I have accidentally become wealthy in a matter of a few tragic moments?”
“You still had the money you came into the marriage with. Full control of that is now yours. What actually changed was the money that Leonard inherited from his aunt and the trust of funds from his parents that he received when he reached his majority days before you wed.”
She sat in silence for a few moments, trying and failing to get her thoughts together. Beyond the unfathomable amounts of money that Leonard had plus all the properties and business ventures, her mind was trying to grasp the ways in which her life would change.
“When did he change it to make me the beneficiary, Mr. Cooper?”
“Yesterday, before the tragic boat accident.”
“Mr. Cooper, when did Reginald find out about the changes?”
“I told him personally over the phone the same day and also sent the letter.”
“So Reginald knew he was out of the will before Leonard’s death?”
“Yes, without a doubt.”
Ro closed her eyes, completely overwhelmed. Detective Truman’s accusing eyes were all she could see. So much for Reginald being a suspect. He’d never have killed Leonard if he knew he would get nothing from the estate. The same changes that seemed to prove Reginald’s innocence made Ro look extremely guilty.
“I’m afraid we might have another problem, Mr. Cooper. Is it a conflict of interest for me to hire you?”
“Why do you need to hire me?”
“The police suspect foul play was involved in Leonard’s death. For a variety of reasons, some known and some not, the police suspect that I may have been behind it. As you can imagine, this news of being the sole beneficiary to his estate is not going to help my pleas of innocence.”
“I see. I must tell you that Reginald came by my offices earlier today and insisted that I show him the will and other supporting documents. I did not comply because he is not entitled to that information. While he was here, furious that he wasn’t getting his way, he threw out an accusation that you were responsible for his brother’s death and that the will would be overturned because of your involvement.”
“I had nothing to do with his death, of course. If he’s telling you, he’s likely spreading that information to other people as well. I wonder if that’s why the police suspect foul play.” Ro pressed her fingers into her forehead again, trying to hold her thoughts together with her bare hands. After a moment of reflection, she looked up at Mr. Cooper. “No, the Yard suspected foul play from the beginning. Do I need to worry about Reginald’s accusations?”
“Only if he can prove that you were involved in the murder.”
“I didn’t kill Leonard, but this information will send the detectives back to my door, sooner or later. I aim to discover who was actually responsible for his death and the absolute destruction of my yacht before they have a chance to accuse me again. In order to do that, I need information about my husband’s business deals. He certainly made many people angry. It’s possible one of them is behind the yacht’s sinking.”
“I don’t see any conflict of interest. As the sole beneficiary, you are now in charge of all of his business investments as well. I can tell
you everything I know about those transactions.”
“Edward Stewart and James Greyson are who I’m currently interested in.”
“I’ll have my receptionist pull the files for those accounts. I can have them delivered to your home by end of business today if that is satisfactory."
“Wonderful. I’m staying with a friend this week. Please send the files to me at this address.”
She wrote Hettie’s hotel address on a piece of paper and handed it to Mr. Cooper.
“I believe my husband was particularly vicious during those transactions, although he never got into specifics with me. He appeared to take quite a bit of pleasure from whatever it was he did to those poor men.”
“Leonard was a shrewd businessman, certainly. Those transactions were particularly unfavorable to the other parties, but I must say that neither Greyson nor Stewart, in the handful of times that I met them, seemed capable of something as horrific as sinking a yacht.”
“I understand. I also know that dealing with my husband can change a person. I’d not rule anyone out just because at one time they were kind, law-abiding citizens. Leonard had a way of pushing people to the brink.”
“I suppose I can see your point, Mrs. Ripley.”
She stood and shook his hand. “Please call me Ro. Ro Lavender. And have all correspondence to me addressed as such.”
After she said her goodbyes and promised to meet with Mr. Cooper the next week to go over the estate and all she’d be inheriting, she made her way out to the street where Gerald waited with the auto.
Her mind raced. Only because of Reginald’s and Leonard’s brainless feud did she have access to all of Leonard’s business accounts and the bulk of the fortune. Their ridiculous fight also landed her square in the middle of a murder investigation. What was her next step?
She’d tell Hettie tonight over dinner about the will and the resulting implications. She had effectively ruled out Reginald as a suspect and she would look over the files that Mr. Cooper was sending over this evening to learn more about the other two men.
