'But you think he was listening?' asked Mcl henney.
'Chances are that he was. Maybe he told Ivy what to ask, maybe not, but the likelihood is that's how he came to know about our warehouse and to know Paula Viareggio by name and sight.'
'I agree; that's probable. But you've stil got to convince me that Ivy wasn't involved. Everything you've told me about her makes it seem that she was quite an actress.'
'Okay, I'l convince you. There's some more checking I want you to do, then a man I want you to see.'
'Who's that?'
'Walter Jaap, funeral undertaker. He's the only man alive I know who's actually met El a Frances, as such.'
'Okay,' said Mcl henney, 'but I'm not doing it, we are. I've got orders from very high up not to let you out of my sight.'
'Is that right? In that case I might have to sleep with Paula tonight, if you're going to be on the sofa.'
71
It occurred to Sarah that Clyde Oakdale looked more like a lawyer than anyone she had ever known. He wore a three-piece, pin-striped suit, the jacket cut long, a blue shirt with a white collar, and he peered at her over half-moon spectacles as she laid the last will and testament of Leo and Susannah Grace on his desk.
'You're sure you understand al of this, now you've read it?' asked the interim senior partner of Grace, McLean, Wylie, Whyte and Oakdale.
'I think so, but perhaps you'd summarise it for me.'
'Of course,' he answered. 'Some time ago your father consolidated all his investments into a trust fund for his benefit and that of Susannah, during their lifetimes. With their deaths you inherit everything, other than his continuing interest in the law firm, which is distributed among the surviving partners; you and your husband are joint executors of the estate, and have absolute discretion over its disposal. You can dissolve the fund, or continue it in being for your own benefit. Alternatively you may appoint your children as beneficiaries.
'The wil places no constraints upon you of any sort. It does not require you to resume residence in the United States, nor does it require your children to become American citizens as a condition of benefit. In case you're surprised by that remark, I have seen such conditions imposed in situations such as these.'
'What's the total value of the estate?'
'The current valuation of the fund is just under eight mil ion dollars, and the two properties are worth in the region of one-and-a-half million.
There are no borrowings attached to either.'
Sarah whistled. 'I always knew I had a rich daddy, but that surprises me.
'I have to tell you that it would be to your advantage to continue the ftmd in being, for the immediate future at least,' said Oakdale. 'It is extremely tax-advantageous, and the firm would be happy to continue to manage it for you, through our associated brokerage, for the same fee arranged with your father.'
'I'll come back to you on that. Obviously, I'l have to discuss it with my husband. However in the meantime would you please proceed as soon as possible with the sale of the lakeside cabin. Neither Bob nor I have any wish to see that place, ever again.'
'I don't blame you; I'll instruct a real estate agent on your behalf, once the police give me the all clear to proceed.'
'Good,' she said. 'Now if that's al, I must be going. I have another engagement.'
Oakdale held up a hand. 'There is just one more thing.' He rose, ponderously, and walked towards the wal of his office. Behind a mirror, there was a wall safe, which he opened by dial ing in a combination. He reached in and took out a long legal envelope, with a red wax seal on the back.
'A few weeks ago,' he announced, 'Leo gave me this, with the instruction that should he fail to reclaim it before his death, I was to give it to your husband; to no one else but him. I have spoken with him by telephone, and he said it was okay for you to receive it on his behalf, as long as you don't open it.' He handed it to her. 'I must say that I was surprised that he gave it to me rather than to Jack, who was, after all, my senior partner at the time.'
'Do you have any idea what it is?' she asked.
'No. All I can tell you is that, from your father's demeanour when he entrusted it to me, it is very important.'
72
Skinner was still dazed by the enormity of Joe Doherty's death as he walked along the tree-lined street in which the Walkers lived. He had stopped believing in coincidences when he was around eighteen years old.
'Why couldn't you take a hint, old pal,' he muttered, sadly. 'As if Wylie's boat blowing up when we should have been on it wasn't enough to give you the message.'
The thing that surprised him to an extent was that he felt no real threat to his personal safety. He was sure beyond any doubt that the explosion had now been reclassified as an accident, and that the remains of Jack Wylie's computer were as useless as they had no doubt looked when they were recovered from the hulk.
The secret was buried once more; there would be no sense in disturbing the ground by killing a foreign national, and a policeman at that. Yet he could not be one hundred per cent certain; that was why Leo Grace's Glock, all fifteen rounds in its magazine, was tucked into the waistband of his slacks, nestling cold but comforting against his back.
The day was still warm when he reached the clergyman's house, large by British standards but modest when set against Leo and Susannah's home. He crunched his way up the drive and rang the bell; after a few moments, the door was opened by a pert, blonde woman, around Sarah's age.
Until then, he had not been aware that he had met Babs Walker. He remembered only an encounter with one of his wife's friends, during the period of their separation, when he had been in Buffalo to visit his son, rather than with any hope of patching things up. The thing he recal ed most clearly about that meeting was how frosty the woman had been towards him.
There was still a faint chill about her as she greeted him at the door. 'Bob. Right on time; won't you come in.' She held the door open for him, then escorted him through to their main reception room, where her husband was waiting. From somewhere below, the den, he guessed, he heard a child's laugh.
'Welcome,' said the minister, 'it's good to see you again, but for the circumstances.'
'Yes,' Babs added. 'We never seem to meet in happy times, do we, Bob.' He had no doubt from her tone that she stil disapproved of him.
He guessed that there was little forgiveness in the preacher's wife.
He glanced around the room. The Walkers were keen collectors of family photographs; they stood in frames on every surface; parents, he supposed, children at various stages from birth, and the couple themselves, individual y in high school graduation robes, and together on their wedding day.
'Nice,' he said, absently. 'I hope Sarah isn't too much longer. She said she'd get done with Oakdale as quickly as she could.' A glance was exchanged between husband and wife; he caught it, and Ian realised as much.
'She will be a little later, actually, Bob,' he confessed. 'She has another meeting to fit in.'
Babs Walker was out of his vision as he looked at her husband, but he knew that she was smirking at his discomfiture. 'That guy?' he asked.
'Yes. He cal ed this afternoon, and said he was in town. I caught Sarah on her cellphone just as she was driving to meet the lawyer. She agreed to see him immediately afterwards.'
Skinner shrugged, feeling the gun move against his back. 'Fair enough.
She's thought it through; she reckons it's the thing to do.'
'Will you have some lemonade while you're waiting. Bob?' Babs asked.