Page 38 of Marble Hall Murders

‘Do you see Monsieur Lambert?’ he asked.

Fraser turned round. There was nobody there. ‘The solicitor? No. I think he’s still outside.’

Pünd smiled. ‘That is exactly my point.’

‘Honestly, Mr Pünd. You really are quite unfathomable at times.’

Pünd smiled to himself. Voltaire was waiting for them and they moved forward to join him.

Thegrand salonhad been prepared for the reading of the will.

Two wooden seats had been placed behind a heavy ornamental card table that had been pressed into service as a reading desk and faced the family, who were both actors in the drama that was to follow and its audience. They were already seated, spread across a variety of sofas and chairs.

Jeffrey and Lola Chalfont – both wearing black – were next to each other on one side of the room, an angry-looking Cedric leaning between them.

‘Why can’t I stay?’ he was complaining with the face of every eight-year-old who can’t get what he wants.

‘Because this is for grown-ups,’ Lola told him.

‘But Granny may have left me money in her will.’

‘If she has, we’ll tell you.’

Harry and Judith Lyttleton were on the other side, and as Pünd entered, it seemed to him that Judith was as nervous as she had been when he met her at the clinic in London. Elmer Waysmith was sitting on his own in a straight-backed chair near the door to the garden, separate from the rest of the family, his eyes focused on something in the distance. In some ways he seemed to be in control of everything that was about to happen, but at the same time, he was on the very fringes, an outsider.

Three more chairs had been set out for Pünd, Fraser and Voltaire. These were in front of the fireplace and as he sat down, Pünd noticed there was a new artwork above the mantel. The vase of tulips painted by Paul Cézanne had been removed and replaced by a very ordinary landscape. He wondered when this had happened – and why.

There was a stir in the room as Robert Waysmith came in with theavocatand his secretary. Alice Carling nodded at Robert, then sat down at the table, next to her employer. She took out a series of typewritten documents, which she placed in front of him. For his part, Robert drew up a seat near his father.

The moment had arrived.

‘Good morning,’ Lambert began. As always, and despite the hot weather, he was wearing a formal suit. He took out his pince-nez and balanced them on his nose. ‘I wish to express my condolences to all of you in this room … which is to say, Monsieur Waysmith and the family. We all loved and admired Lady Chalfont and although we had of course prepared ourselves for her loss, it is almost impossible to believe it has occurred and in such terrible circumstances. Iwill go so far as to say that I find it most upsetting that we have the police here today on this melancholy and private occasion. However, it makes no difference to my work, which is to inform you of Lady Chalfont’s last wishes, so I will make no further reference to it. And I will be brief.’

He glanced at the first page in front of him.

‘We must begin with the estate of Chalfont Hall in the county of Norfolk in England – the manor house itself, along with its contents and the five hundred acres of land, the various farm buildings, the tied cottages, the hunting lodge, the chapel and the two pavilions, all passed down to the seventh Earl, Jeffrey Chalfont, following the death of his father. This is a result of the male-only primogeniture system, which has been in place for many hundreds of years. As I am sure you are aware, there is also an entail which forbids the sale or division of the property. The income from the land and the tied cottages have also passed directly to the seventh Earl.

‘We therefore arrive at the considerable fortune which Lady Chalfont inherited from her first husband. There is this property. The house in St James’s, London. The private bank and funds. All of these together total approximately nine hundred thousand pounds sterling. I also have here the details of stocks and shares and other investments, which, when brought into consideration, will double that figure.’

‘So when do we get it?’ Jeffrey asked, his hands folded on his belly and a scowl on his face.

Lambert’s eyes narrowed behind his pince-nez. It was as close as he allowed himself to come to contempt. ‘I spoke at length to your mother last summer,’ he said. ‘Shemade certain arrangements that she wished to explain to you herself. To that end, she wrote a final communication witnessed by myself and Mademoiselle Carling in my office.’

Alice Carling had already produced a handwritten letter, a single sheet of paper, which she removed from an envelope. She passed it to theavocat, who read:

‘“I have come to a decision with respect to my will and I want it to be known that it is, without any question, my decision and mine alone. I do this without malice and with only the best intentions. I am very fond of all the young people who make up my immediate family and wish to care for them, but I sometimes question their judgement. Wealth is a great blessing, but it is my opinion that it can be destructive, if placed in the wrong hands.”’

There was an eerie silence in the room as Lady Chalfont’s last words, spoken from beyond the grave and interpreted by the elderly solicitor, hung in the air. Nobody spoke. But Jeffrey and Harry were already frowning.

‘“I am leaving the sum of twenty thousand pounds to my son, Jeffrey Chalfont, and his wife, Lola. I am leaving the same amount to my daughter, Judith, and her husband, Harry. Cedric will receive his parcel of twenty thousand pounds when he turns twenty-one, the money being held for him by Monsieur Lambert until he reaches that age. My stepson, Robert, will also receive ten thousand pounds.

‘“Apart from a few small bequests, which are listed separately, I am leaving the rest of my estate to my dear Elmer, who has been my rod and my staff since the day we met, who has never left my side and who gave me new life after the tragic loss of my beloved Henry. It is not myintention to enrich him personally. He has no need of that. It is more to protect my family that I ask him to be the custodian of my wealth. I am relying on him to provide the guidance and financial support that are needed now I am no longer there, and I end my time in this world with the comfort that the ones I love will always be cared for.”’

Lambert lowered the letter. ‘That is the end of her personal communication,’ he announced.

‘Can I see that?’ Jeffrey Chalfont had already got to his feet and almost snatched the letter out of the solicitor’s hand. There were red blotches on both his cheeks and as he read his mother’s handwriting, his eyes were bright with anger. It took him only a few seconds to gauge that the document was authentic. He turned and glared at his stepfather. ‘Did you put her up to this?’ he demanded.

‘Your mother knew exactly what she was doing,’ Elmer replied tautly.

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