A Darker God (28 page)

“No,” said the inspector. “I think we need to know all the details of Sir Andrew’s largesse. I’ve known poor unfortunates poisoned with arsenic over the possession of a teapot. Expectations must be judged according to circumstances. Twenty pounds to a boot boy is a fortune.”

“Lucky old Demetrios!” said Letty. “He arrived at a good time. He wasn’t here in the spring.”

“I understand,” the lawyer continued. “Well, here we have the Battersea Dogs’ Home, one hundred pounds … the British Museum in London, five hundred pounds … the British School at Athens, one thousand pounds—” He broke off and gave them a mischievous smile. “They’ll be relieved to hear that! Two elderly aunts in England—dependants of the professor—are to have a thousand pounds each to assist them through their twilight years. I’m skipping to the nub of all this, you understand …” He flipped to the next page. “Here we are … All properties of which he dies possessed (with one exception, see below)—that is: the London house, a cottage on the Suffolk coast, and this house in Athens—are to be made over wholly to his wife, Maud, who, incidentally, was to receive the residue of his cash when all other payments had been made.”

The last page gave rise to a dramatic pause before he went
on. “To Miss Thetis Templeton (or Mrs. Chandos, as she is properly known … You were aware?…) he bequeaths the sum of twenty thousand pounds left in a trust which we are to administer, to pay out a yearly sum for the rest of her life. A handsome gift!”

Benson looked beadily around the company, taking in the dropped jaws and wide eyes. “This was one of the main changes to the will, of course.”

After a suitable pause he went on: “And Miss Talbot—you do not go away empty-handed. Most intriguing! I myself took the notes for the changes, here in this room. Professor Merriman quite insisted on that. He wanted to leave you something you would truly value. ‘Something that will knock her eye out!’ were his actual words.” Benson remembered himself and sobered his tone. He pointed to a dark corner of the room. “Do you remember the chest that he used to keep over there? The chest covered by a rug of Eastern pattern?”

Letty nodded cautiously.

“You are to have the contents of that chest. Oh, and, indeed, the chest itself. The professor was most particular about that. It is at present lodged with his bank and being kept in the strong room.” Benedict smiled a gratified smile. “I’m pleased to say the professor would, occasionally, accept my advice. When he gave me an outline of the contents, I expressed my horror that he had kept them to hand here in the house for so long, hidden under a rug. I can make arrangements for the bank to deliver them here for your inspection at a time suitable for you. After that I would recommend they be sent straight back again.

“And, as we’re here amongst his books … what place more fitting to announce that he has left his entire collection, in London and Athens, to William Gunning?” An elegant hand gesture around the room underlined the largesse of the bequest.

“There is a further clause inserted regarding the Reverend.” Benedict ran a finger down the foolscap sheet, finding his place.

William’s initial expression of astonishment was hardening into one of suspicion.

“In the event of the professor’s premature death, the Reverend Gunning is to oversee the publication of his last book, negotiate with the publishers, and in turn receive not only his library but any monies accruing from his publications, including the most recent work. Of which he had great hopes.”

“His
Alexander?
Good Lord! Why—yes! I’d be delighted to do that. In fact, I’d be honoured. I worked with him on the text last winter,” Gunning murmured, and fell into a stunned silence.

“Is that it?” asked Montacute. “Didn’t I hear you refer to ‘another property’?”

“Ah, yes. Mmm … Bit of a puzzle, this. A gift horse whose teeth I would certainly recommend giving a good inspection before accepting into my stable … But I suppose he knew what he was about … Look, Miss Talbot, please do not hesitate to consult us should you have the least concern … Our property department here in Athens is second to none in its vigilance and expertise, and we have a working arrangement with colleagues up there in Salonika—”

“Steady on, Benedict!” said Letty. “You’re a chapter ahead of us! What has any of this to do with me?”

“He’s willed the whole ants’ nest to you. The deeds of the property in question are in there with the rest of the things. In the chest. You’ll need some courage and patience to sort out that lot, I’m afraid, Laetitia.” He looked at her with pity. “And possibly the use of one of those armoured tanks. Rather you than me, what!” he finished with an apologetic bark of laughter.

Chapter 24

L
etty had some difficulty in keeping her eyes on the lawyer as he moved on to the will of Lady Merriman. They would return every other moment, drawn to dwell speculatively on the empty space where had stood a small chest, hardly bigger than a footstool, with its undistinguished covering of rather moth-eaten rug. Purple, red, and amber, the faded colours had always been there, a comforting glow in the background as long as she had known the house. She missed it. There it had sat undisturbed in a cool dark corner, out of the sunshine and unremarked on by the professor, but she had noticed he never allowed any object, not even an ashtray, to be placed on it. Engrossed in a book, she had once attempted thoughtlessly to sit on it. His scream of protest had made her jump instantly to her feet. Either of his two adored house cats attempting to settle there would be swatted away at once, though he would tolerate them on his desk, curled up on his books, or in his lap.

“And now to Lady Merriman,” Benedict announced. “These pages are much more straightforward. Stark in their simplicity, you might say. I could deliver the contents to you in thirty seconds. I wonder if you are aware of the composition of her remaining family?”

A look from Montacute encouraged him to expand.

“It helps to have them in focus. Influenza cut a swath through them after the war and much reduced the ranks, I’m afraid. So—Mrs. Merriman was left with the elderly maternal grandmother she shares with her cousin Thetis. Grandmama had four children: Adela, the eldest and mother of Maud; two sons, Albert and John; and finally Daphne, the mother of Thetis. Albert it is—the older of the brothers by three years—who appears to have been accepted as head and mouthpiece of the family. At least Lady Merriman deferred to him as such. I can’t speak for Miss Templeton.”

There was a pause while they each silently speculated as to Thetis’s level of deference to her uncle Albert.

“Of these siblings,” Benedict drove on, “the two men have gone on not only to marry but to produce male heirs. Albert has given Maurice and Richard to the world (a daughter died in infancy), and his brother John’s sons are Richard, Harold, and George. Six people, then, in the generation contemporary with Lady Merriman, would appear to be the roll call: five male cousins and Thetis.”

The lawyer cleared his throat. “Lady Merriman was a wealthy woman in her own right. Her mother, Adela, married well and was left a rich widow. A goodly sum eventually made its way into Maud’s account. By agreement, she kept this family money separate from her husband’s. According to the terms of her original will, which was drawn up some years ago, there was a simple transfer of the bulk of this to her husband should he survive her, after the provision of certain sums of a substantial nature which were to go to each of her cousins equally. Six nominees: the cousins I’ve just referred to. The family money was making its way back into the family coffers, you might say.”

“And now?” the inspector urged.

“The will I have before me—which, of course, is amplified
by the inclusion of the properties and money left to her by her husband—deletes all mention of Sir Andrew. Had he survived her, therefore, he would have seen no benefit from his wife’s provisions. Though he could, naturally, have challenged this in law … To put it simply: The bulk of her fortune is to be divided equally between her five male cousins.”

“Male
cousins? And Thetis? What about her?” Letty asked.

“Her cousin Thetis has also been deleted and is now to receive nothing.” Benson lowered his eyes and inspected his fingernails while they absorbed this.

Letty glanced at the inspector to judge his reaction. His professional mask was in place and she could read nothing in his face. Politely, he thanked the lawyer for his kind attentions and received from him the copies of the wills, making all the reassurances he required regarding discretion.

Before he left, Benedict turned to shake hands with Letty and slipped a white business card to her. “You
will
be needing some professional help with all this,” he murmured. “Don’t hesitate and all that …” he added vaguely, smiled, and left.

They sat down again in their places, each wrapped in his own thoughts. Finally Letty said bitterly: “Curse you, Maud! Vindictive in death—as in life! But Thetis wouldn’t have been expecting anything from her, you know … She’s not the kind of girl, I think, to feel dependence on anyone, so she won’t be disappointed. If she is, she’ll make light of it. Still … that doesn’t make Maud any less of a witch, does it?”

“Isn’t that a little harsh, if what you both tell me is true-that the girl was allowing herself to be seduced by Maud’s husband under Maud’s own roof …?” Gunning began.

“Someone’s
roof … unlikely that there was any hanky-panky going on here,” said Letty.

“‘Hanky-panky’?” Gunning repeated. “Doesn’t quite cover the seriousness of the sin and the betrayal, I’d have thought. Disgraceful behaviour. And it would have been reassuring to
hear a less partial opinion expressed, Letty, a little more judgement exercised. Are you incapable of seeing this through Maud’s eyes simply because she was in your eyes elderly and infirm, and strikes no romantic chord with your bohemian set? The woman was deceived by those closest to her. She had a perfect right to leave her money where she thought fit.”

Montacute flinched and looked uneasily from one to the other.

“Yes, Your Reverence,” said Letty mildly. “Of course you’re right. It’s not my place to judge Maud and I’m sorry I spoke so flippantly. But listen—there’s things you don’t know yet … complications … At least Andrew did the decent thing and left Thetis an annuity.”

“A large one. I was wondering about that … Odd, don’t you think?” said the inspector. “Designed to put his wife’s nose out of joint? Nothing like leaving your mistresses a comfortable amount of cash out of the family pot to infuriate from beyond the grave. Still—I’d have thought two hundred and twenty pounds would have been
adequately
infuriating,” he said with the precision that experience brought. “And—was the professor a vengeful man? I didn’t know him well but I wouldn’t have judged him petty. A man of generous impulses and forgiving nature, I’d have said. And why stick at Thetis? I can’t imagine she’s the sole survivor of the Siren Species who enlivened his middle years.” He had carefully refrained from mentioning Letty’s relationship with the professor, not being quite certain of the exact nature of her friendship with Gunning, she guessed, and she was grateful for his tact.

“Well, he has left
me
a mystery box! If that counts.” Letty smiled, bringing her own relationship with the professor out into the open. “Though it begins to sound like Pandora’s unwanted Christmas present, if Benedict is to be believed. I shan’t dare open it! But I have good reason for thinking that
Thetis was special, and I fear I’m going to have to tell you why,” she finished hesitantly.

The two men waited in silence for her to go on. “You can detect all you like, Inspector—you’re not going to be able to have Thetis hanged. Not for a while at least … perhaps never … You’re thrashing about in a dark room and my finger’s on the light switch. I don’t want to betray a confidence, but … oh, dash it all!… it will out in time anyway! Very soon now. She said so herself. And this
is
a double murder enquiry! No. Forgive me. I can’t. It’s not mine to disclose. I’d be interfering again, William. You’d give me another ticking-off and rightly so.”

It was the more worldly Montacute who got there first. “My God! Oh, no! Oh, how bloody! Excuse me! Tell me my suspicious mind has leapt to the wrong outlandish conclusion! The wretched girl’s
pregnant
, isn’t she? Is that what she told you, Laetitia?”

Laetitia nodded silently, alarmed by his strong reaction.

“Sir Andrew was about to have an heir—of sorts—at last,” he pressed on, thinking aloud, marshalling their own turbulent thoughts. “And, according to the absurd generosity of his last-minute provisions, it would seem he’d been made aware of it and was acknowledging his responsibility.”

“There we’d be guessing. I can’t say if Thetis told him or not. She didn’t confide that much. I do know that Maud was unaware.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” said Gunning grimly. “But it certainly does suggest a strong motive or two or three for murder. Oh, how foul!”

The inspector sighed. “And the strongest emotion—jealous rage—would be motive enough for Miss Templeton to stab her lover to death. Perhaps she was using her … er … condition … as a lever to make him divorce his wife and marry her? ‘Just
when you thought it too late … here’s the son you always wanted … You only have to get rid of a wife you can’t stand anyway …’ Not difficult to imagine. But he refused. So she took the opportunity of topping him backstage before the rehearsal started. She’s a strong girl. And women—excuse me—can be remarkably vindictive when thwarted. And, in their passion, capable of outlandish feats of strength. She could have hauled him about and tiddled up the corpse. If she appeared a trifle breathless, bloodstained, wild-eyed afterwards, who would notice? She was in rôle after all, the wronged queen of Mycaenae, just practising her speeches like the rest of us, wasn’t she? And the posing of the body in the bathtub … such an obviously angry gesture—he was, for her, at that moment, Agamemnon, the faithless betrayer, and she intended everyone to see him as such—in his true place. The public spectacle of his degradation was the vengeance she exacted for her betrayal—”