Last Puzzle & Testament (41 page)

“
My brother Randolph predeceased him, and while there were children, Father never entertained a thought of skipping generations.

“
Of my sister, Alicia, the less said the better. Suffice it to say Father was rather straitlaced, and Alicia’s actions did not meet with his approval.

“
Then there was Chester. Dear brother Chester. Dear odd brother Chester. What we would call nowadays a nerd or a geek. Did we have those expressions then? I’m getting old, and I can’t recall.

“
But I’m rambling again. If I were alive, you could get mad at me. As it is, you’ll just have to take it. At any rate, dear Chester, Father’s will bypassed you. And for those reasons. For giving the impression of being not all there.

“
It is plausible. It was possible. It was accepted without question by the other heirs.

“
But it wasn’t true.

“
It was a lie.

“
It was a falsehood.

“
It was a forgery.

“
Yes, Chester. I can’t imagine you were really fooled. You, who were so smart to begin with. And yet you were never keen at social situations. Not particularly adept at reading social cues. But did you really think Father disapproved? When he was such a prim, proper, prudish man himself? Did you really think he’d see you as odd? A chip off the old block, is what you were. The logical successor, most likely heir.

“
Then how did I inherit and not you?

heig

“
Well, that’s another story. Yes, you may groan while I digress. But I have a tale to tell. A tale of unrequited love. And isn’t love an awful thing, the things that love will make one do?

“
Like altering a will.

“
You see now why you have not really won the game? Why you may hold an empty prize?

“
The lawyer does.

“
The lawyer who prepared the will.

“
Prepared it twice. As written, and then with the substituted page.

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For love, unrequited.

“
Ironic, isn’t it, that I should never marry, live my life alone? Supported by the wealth supplied me by the man I rejected.

“
But more ironic, I think, for the fact I did not know it.

“
No, my dear relatives, whatever else you might think of me, I was not that. Scheming, lying, deceitful, covetous. None of those adjectives applied. I was as shocked as any by my vast inheritance.

“
It was a most pleasant surprise.

“
But having inherited so much, it was no surprise when suitors arrived at my door. Indeed, in that respect Father’s money was a curse. It drew suitors like flies. And I turned them away, knowing why each had come.

“
One was persistent, however. He would not give up, and could not go away, acting, as he was, as my solicitor.
”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sherry Carter saw Arthur Kincaid, who from the beginning of this speech had been working his way toward the back of the room, slip out the door.

“
I staved him off,
” Cora continued. “
Deflected his advances. Dismissed them with a joke.

“
I should have been direct.

“
I should have just said no.

“
Because, years later when I finally did, he told me what he’d done. How out of his regard for me he’d altered my father’s will, transferring the bulk of the estate from my brother to me.
”

One other person had observed the lawyer’s departure. While Sherry watched, on the far side of the room a baseball cap with the letter
B
could be seen weaving among the spectators, heading for the back door.

“
I was devastated by this confession,
” Cora read. “
And I wanted to make things right

And yet …

“
It came so late. Years had gone by. I was used to a certain lifestyle. As was my brother. A reversal of fortunes could have destroyed me, and would not have benefited Chester. Or so I told myself. And it would not have affected the other heirs, whose bequests would not change. So why speak out?

“
Yes, I was weak.

“
Yes, I went along.

“
And it has eaten away at me all these years like a cancer.

“
Which is why I devised my game.

“
Did you figure it out? Before you got this letter, I mean? There were so many clues. The fact I placed the banker, not the lawyer, in charge of my house. Because, of course, the lawyer might realize what I’d done if he were to peek at my will
.

“
Did you do that, Arthur? Frightened by a sealed will, and my instructions to summon the heirs, did you steam the envelope open to see why I had barred you from my home? Did you panic? Did you do something foolish?

“
Or is it you who is reading this now?

“
You see, in my game even you had a chance, Arthur.

“
Even you might have gotten away.

“
Did you get away?

“
If not, let me state here and now, lest there be any doubt, that it was Arthur Kincaid, forty years ago, who altered my father’s will, transferring our father’s fortune from my brother Chester to me. Chester was and is my father’s rightful heir. And the money conveyed by my last will and testament is rightfully his.
”

In the jury box, Philip Hurley shot to his feet. “No!” he cried. “It can’t be! That money is rightfully mine!”

“The hell it is!” thundered Phyllis Applegate. She lunged to her feet, brushing her husband aside. “It’s mine and you know it!”

Brother and sister charged forward. They met in the middle of the jury box, clawing and scratching at each other in savage fury.

The gunshot stopped them. They froze with their hands on each other’s throats. Looked toward the sound.

The shot came from outside the courthouse.

There was a moment’s stunned silence, then everyone began shoving toward the exit. A crush of heirs and bystanders and media tried to push out the doors.

Chester Hurley fooled them. Wily as ever, he avoided them all, slipping in the side door while they were rushing out the back. He made his way calmly around the jury box, down the press row, and through the gate. He walked up to Chief Harper, pulled the enormous gun from his overalls, and laid it on the defense table.

“I’m turning myself in,” he said. “I just killed Arthur Kincaid.”

“Don’t you want to take my picture with the flowers?” Cora Felton said. Cora was all decked out in her gardening togs and holding a trowel.

“Oh, absolutely,” the interviewer from
People
magazine said. A thin woman with angular features, she gestured toward the young man with a light meter and three cameras slung around his neck. “Roger will be shooting while we talk. Pay no attention to him, pretend he’s not there. We’ll just have a little chat.”

“Would you like to see the marigolds? I’m very proud of my marigolds.”

“I’m sure you are. I have a few questions first. It’s not every day you see someone gunned down in the street.”

“I didn’t actually see it,” Cora Felton said meekly.

“No, but you made it happen, didn’t you? I mean, you were in the courthouse, reading the will.”

“It wasn’t the will. It was more of a confession, really. Can I get you some tea? I make the most wonderful iced tea. My niece, Sherry—that’s her over there with the young reporter—would be delighted to get you some.”

“Not just now.” The interviewer checked the volume on the microcassette recorder she was holding. “Now, the woodsman shot the lawyer for cheating him out of fifteen million dollars?”

“No,” Cora Felton said. “Chester couldn’t have cared less about the money. He shot him for killing his niece. Annabel Hurley. Chester couldn’t forgive him for that.”

“It was Chester Hurley who shot the lawyer?”

“That’s right.”

“And the lawyer’s name was …#x2?”

“Arthur Kincaid. The lawyer who, four decades ago, altered Evan Hurley’s will, leaving his money to Emma instead of Chester. Did you see the geraniums? I’ve had good luck with the geraniums.”

“Yes, I’m sure you have. And where did the banker come into all this?”

Cora Felton sighed. “Okay, let me give you a rundown of what happened, so we can get on with the interview. Emma Hurley was dying, she had a lot of money to leave. But she was haunted by the fact the money was not really hers. She had inherited it unjustly due to the connivance of a lawyer. That lawyer, Arthur Kincaid, was still her attorney. I think she enjoyed toying with him, that that was her way of punishing him for what he had done.

“With her death, however, she meant to set things right. So she concocted this incredible scheme. She would summon her heirs, all of them, including Chester, the one she had wronged, and invite them to play a game. The game purported to be a contest to see who would inherit her fortune. Actually, the game was designed to lead to a revelation of what she had done.

“And what the attorney had done. I think that was the real purpose. To make Kincaid suffer.

“To carry this out, she placed a letter in a safe deposit box in her name. She instructed her banker, Marcus Gelman, to open that box for anyone named in her will who presented him with the key, on the condition that the box be opened
only
in the presence of the person she had appointed judge and referee.”

Cora smiled, and did a mock curtsy.

“That, of course, was to prevent Arthur Kincaid from opening the box and destroying her letter.

“So was locking up the house. Which was the other instruction she gave Marcus Gelman. Upon her death, Gelman was to seal up Emma’s mansion, and not unlock it for anyone, including the lawyer, until after the reading of her will. That was because she was afraid Arthur Kincaid would peek at the will, learn of the contest, and try to destroy the clues.

“Which he would have done, and which he attempted to do. He had already read the will, and was in the process of searching the bedroom when the banker showed up to throw him out. After that, the house was locked up and Kincaid couldn’t get in without breaking in, which he was reluctant to do, as he couldn’t afford to be caught at it. He had also spent enough time searching for the clue to realize finding it wouldn’t be easy.

“Which gave him an idea. He didn’t know how to get rid of the clue, but all he had to do was leave another clue that was easier to find, and the real clue would go undiscovered.

“In her will Emma Hurley referred to her game as a
puzzle.
She didn’t mean a crossword puzzle, but Arthur Kincaid didn’t know that. Or care. If Emma Hurley said
puzzle,
then
puzzle
it would be. He took a crossword puzzle from a newspaper, printed the grid, and divided up the clues in four groups, one for each quadrant of the puzzle. He typed the quadrants up and Xeroxed them, and planted the first set of clues under the blotter in the rolltop roudesk, just where Emma Hurley’s will said they would be.

“Except he couldn’t plant the clues himself, because he couldn’t get in. And, as I say, he didn’t dare risk breaking in.