The Ways of the World (24 page)

There was a brief, shocked silence. Winifred stiffened. George opened his eyes. Lydia stared. And Ashley glowered. ‘What the devil are you talking about?’

‘You are not an executor, Sir Ashley. Only an executor can apply for probate and in due course implement the provisions of the will. I’m sorry, but there it is.’

‘A moment ago you said you understood we were fully aware of Sir Henry’s wishes,’ said Lydia.

‘For the disposition of his estate, yes. Nothing has been changed there. Only in the matter of the executorship did Sir Henry make an alteration.’

‘When did he do this, Mr Mellish?’ asked Winifred.

‘The revised will is dated …’ Mellish broke off to consult the document. ‘The twelfth of March.’

‘March this year?’ Ashley snapped.

‘Er, yes.’

‘But that’s only … a few weeks ago.’

‘Indeed.’

‘How is this possible? He’d been in Paris since early January.’

‘Not all the time, self-evidently. He telephoned me from his
London club on, let me see …’ There was a rustling of papers. ‘Yes. On Tuesday the eleventh. He said he wanted urgently to make an amendment to his will and would call on me the following day to do so.’

‘He came to Epsom?’

‘Yes.’

‘But—’

‘You must be mistaken,’ Lydia cut in. ‘He wouldn’t have come to Epsom without contacting us.’

‘He came, Lady Maxted, I assure you. Having the revised will typed there and then so that it could be signed and witnessed the same day placed something of a strain on my secretarial resources. I well recall the occasion.’

‘Henry was in the country,’ said George. ‘I saw him myself.’

Ashley turned on him. ‘
What?
’

‘In London. The eleventh, you say, Mellish?’ George nodded. ‘Yes, that sounds about right.’

‘You
saw
him?’

‘I did. At some distance. In Lombard Street. I thought I must be mistaken, but clearly I wasn’t.’

‘Did you know about this, Mother?’

‘Yes, my dear. George told me.’

‘Well, you might have told me.’

‘I didn’t consider it important.’

‘
Not important?
’

‘Who is the executor, Mellish?’ George asked, ignoring Ashley. ‘You may as well put us out of our misery.’

‘It’s James,’ said Winifred quietly.

‘James?’ Ashley’s tone had now acquired a timbre of horror.

‘You are correct, Lady Maxted,’ said Mellish. ‘Mr James Maxted is the sole executor of Sir Henry’s will.’

‘Good God,’ Ashley exclaimed, ‘this … this is …’

‘Intolerable,’ said Lydia. ‘That is what it is.’

‘Sometimes the intolerable must be tolerated,’ said Winifred.

Ashley glared at her. ‘How can you take this so calmly?’

‘I imagine the appointment is legally unchallengeable,’ Winifred replied.

‘Indeed so,’ said Mellish.

‘Then to take it other than calmly would be futile.’

But calmness clearly did not commend itself to Ashley, who squirmed and grimaced helplessly. ‘I assume James could renounce the executorship if he wished,’ said Lydia tightly.

‘He could,’ Mellish responded. ‘Do you know of some reason why he might wish to?’

‘Well, he’s currently abroad and didn’t return even for his father’s funeral. That hardly suggests he’s a natural choice for the role.’

‘Be that as it may, Lady Maxted, Sir Henry’s wishes were very clear on the point. If you can furnish me with an address for your brother, Sir Ashley, I’ll—’

‘Much good that’ll do you.’

‘But you can tell me where he is?’

‘Yes, yes, damn it. Hotel Mazarin, Rue Coligny, Paris. Unless he’s moved on to God knows where.’

‘We have no reason to doubt his presence there, Mr Mellish,’ said Winifred with some emphasis.

‘Then I shall communicate with him as soon as possible,’ said Mellish. ‘As regards his suitability or inclination, I’ll certainly offer my firm’s services for the settlement of the estate.’

‘He’ll probably plump for that,’ said George. ‘He won’t want to bog himself down in paperwork.’

‘Let’s hope not,’ said Ashley, stroking his forehead gloomily.

‘I’ll need the death certificate you mentioned, Sir Ashley,’ said Mellish, smiling uneasily.

‘Yes, yes, very well.’ Ashley hauled himself to his feet and headed for the door.

‘Tell me, Mr Mellish,’ said Lydia as soon as her husband had left the room, ‘if, purely for the sake of argument, James
did
renounce the executorship, who would replace him?’

‘The courts would appoint an administrator, Lady Maxted.’

‘And who would that be?’

‘Normally, the residuary legatee. In this case, Sir Ashley.’

‘And in that event, we would be much where we were, in testamentary terms, before Sir Henry made the recent alteration to his will?’

‘We would be
exactly
where we were.’

‘I see.’ Lydia nodded thoughtfully. ‘Excuse me for a moment, would you all?’ With that, she rose and bustled from the room.

Winifred watched her depart, then turned back to Mellish with a smile. ‘We should have offered you tea, Mr Mellish. Would you care for a cup?’

‘Or a glass of something stronger?’ George suggested.

Lydia caught up with Ashley in his study. He already had the death certificate in his hand and was about to leave. She closed the door behind her, clasped his arm and fixed him with a purposeful stare.

‘As executor, James is likely to prove an appalling nuisance,’ she said. ‘It’s simply not to be borne.’

‘I know,’ Ashley groaned. ‘But what’s to be done?’

‘If he renounced the executorship, you’d take over, according to Mellish.’

‘Why would he renounce it?’

‘To secure the land he needs for his wretched flying school.’

‘I’ve already told him that’s out of the question.’

‘You’re going to have to change your mind, darling.’ Her grip on his arm tightened. ‘Or at least pretend to.’

THE PARC MONCEAU
looked both springlike and wintry in pallid sunshine. The snow lay in half-thawed patches between colourfully blossomed beds of flowers. The keen wind did not encourage the pram-pushing nannies to loiter and the benches flanking the path Max followed into the park were empty.

He had taken care to arrive exactly on time, suspecting Kuroda would be punctual, and was soon rewarded by the sight of the Japanese detective walking towards him. He was wearing a Homburg, gloves, scarf and heavy overcoat and was carrying an umbrella, though no rain was threatening.

‘Good morning, Mr Maxted,’ Kuroda said as they met.

‘Good morning, Mr Kuroda. Why don’t you call me Max? Everyone does.’

‘Your father did not.’

‘Everyone except my family.’

‘Aha. Very well. Come then, Max. I had thought we would sit and talk, but we must walk if my teeth are not to chatter.’

They headed at a brisk pace towards the gate Max had entered by. ‘And what should I call you? Mr Kuroda? Commissioner? Masataka?’

‘I had the honour to know your father as Henry and to be known by him as Masataka. You are the son of my friend. Therefore …’

‘Masataka it is.’

Kuroda gave a formal little nod of approval.

‘I was surprised to get your message last night, Masataka.’

‘Why? You must have calculated that I could not speak without constraint in the presence of Mr Morahan.’

‘I wasn’t sure you wanted to speak without constraint.’

‘Henry would wish me to advise you candidly, Max. I do not walk with you here this morning as a loyal servant of the Emperor. I walk with you here this morning to give you my counsel.’

‘I’ll take it, gratefully.’

‘Then first we must acknowledge the facts. Neither you nor Mr Morahan referred to the murder of Raffaele Spataro and the arrest of Corinne Dombreux. Yet those events flow from the same source as the murder of your father. You agree?’

‘Yes.’

‘I believe you are in considerable danger. Have you received any threats to your life?’

Max sighed. ‘Yes.’

‘Which you have disregarded?’

‘I’m staying in Paris until I learn the truth.’

‘Your resolve is commendable. It may also be fatal. But why do you suppose the threat to your life has not yet been acted upon?’

‘They think I can be frightened off.’

‘They hope you can. Their difficulty is that your murder would make it hard for the police to continue to pretend that Henry’s death was accidental or that Madame Dombreux murdered Spataro. That is why they stay their hand – for the moment.’

‘Do you know who they are?’

‘You are caught in a web. And Lemmer is the spider at its centre. That is all I can be sure of.’

They reached the gate. Max paused to light a cigarette. Kuroda declined his offer of one. They turned and began to retrace their steps.

‘Henry sought in his last weeks to sell valuable pieces of information he possessed to various people. The whereabouts of Fritz Lemmer was only one such piece of information. You are aware of this, I think.’

‘I am. I didn’t know you were.’

‘My duties require me to be aware of many things. Henry’s behaviour suggested desperation to me. He was a professional
diplomat. This auction of secrets was a contradiction of all he stood for. Have you discovered what drove him to it?’

‘No.’

‘Well, perhaps it is not your most pressing problem. Do you know what else besides his knowledge of Lemmer he hoped to profit from?’

‘I have a few … indications.’

‘Do any of those indications point to a matter that might involve my delegation?’

Max nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘And that matter was?’

‘Something he referred to as the Chinese box. Meaning, I assume, the boxload of secret documents stolen from the head of the Chinese delegation when he stopped off in Tokyo on his way here.’

‘I assume that also.’

‘Stolen by your lot, according to Appleby.’

‘My lot?’ Kuroda chuckled drily. ‘There he is mistaken.’

‘Who, then?’

‘I greatly fear the thief, whether or not he was Japanese, acted on instructions from Lemmer.’

‘Why would Lemmer want the documents?’

‘To answer that question I must entrust you with a state secret, Max. I should not, of course. It is most unwise, most … irresponsible. But if I don’t, I estimate your chances of leaving Paris alive will be close to zero.’

‘It can’t be that bad.’

Kuroda cast him a sidelong glance that might have been one of pity. ‘I have serious doubts about the wisdom of discussing this matter with you. You could ease those doubts by assuring me that you will disclose what I am about to tell you to no one else … unless to do so becomes the difference between life and death.’

‘You have my word.’

‘Thank you. I will hold you to it. Now, the Chinese box. There is a game played in China in which a series of wooden boxes must be fitted inside each other. It can only be done in one specific sequence. The difficulty arises from the minute differences in the
size and shape of each box. This is what we are doing, Max: puzzling over sizes and shapes. There is only one solution to the puzzle. And this, I believe, is that solution.

‘Lemmer’s calculation from the start of the war was that the only hope Germany had of winning was to outflank its enemies. He planned to do this by neutralizing some of them and turning others into allies. So, he gave the Bolsheviks secret support to bring down the Tsar and plunge Russia into chaos. And he sought to persuade Japan to change sides. Japan’s entry into the war had been a strategic disaster for Germany. They lost their Pacific naval base at Tsingtao and the island colonies it protected. Lemmer understood that if and when the United States joined in, Germany was doomed, unless Japan by then was an ally. Japan could distract the Americans, by threatening Hawaii and the Philippines. So, through agents in China, which was still neutral then, he offered the Japanese government a deal: as much territory as they wanted in eastern Russia and the Pacific, including Australia and New Zealand, in return for an alliance with Germany. From some viewpoints, it was an attractive offer. And I must tell you it was seriously considered.’

‘How seriously?’

‘I believe the stolen box contained a copy of a letter sent by Prime Minister Juichi to the German Foreign Minister, Zimmermann, accepting the offer. If the evidence of this letter was made public, it would have a catastrophic effect on Japan’s relations with the United States and Great Britain. It might even lead to Japan’s expulsion from the peace conference. The consequences of that are hard to judge. But they would be extremely grave.’

‘How would such a letter have ended up in the hands of the Chinese?’

‘Remember that since the Last Emperor abdicated, there have been two governments in China, struggling for mastery. I believe the letter was part of the bargain struck between the Peking government and Sun Yat-sen’s rival administration in Canton when they formed a joint delegation to the peace conference. Canton was the route chosen by Lemmer for secret communication with Japan because Sun was financially dependent on Germany. The letter
never reached Zimmermann, in fact, because the German high command chose to launch unrestricted submarine warfare in an attempt to crush Britain. This and a clumsy attempt to draw Mexico into the conflict led inevitably to a declaration of war by the United States. I imagine Lemmer was horrified by the stupidity of the Kaiser’s senior advisers. Count Juichi was also horrified. He withdrew his agreement and tried to retrieve the letter. Sun said it had been destroyed, but no one in Tokyo believed him. We are sure he used it to buy representation here. It would have won China many concessions from Japan if it had not been stolen. Sun would have gained credit for those concessions. Now he probably curses the foolishness of Lou Tseng-Tsiang for letting the Japanese rob him. And we Japanese must let Lou – and Sun – believe he was robbed by us. We are thought to be more cunning and devious than we truly are. Misfortune is a cruel flatterer.’

They had reached a crossroads in the centre of the park and now turned right, towards the distant southern exit. ‘There is something I don’t understand,’ said Max after they had covered ten yards or so in silence. ‘How could my father know about any of this?’