Grundy had kept his ear tuned for a false note throughout Coley’s explanation. He could not detect one. Still...
“Okay, Coley,” the lieutenant said. “Just what was it he told you?”
“First he told me about the phony will he’d had Fish draw up, the one he never signed. He said it was a kind of life insurance. He wouldn’t put anything past an O’Shea, he said, even murder; but if the five relatives living with him thought that on his death they’d have to share his estate with seventeen other O’Sheas scattered to hell and gone, they’d sit up nights biting their nails trying to figure how to keep him alive forever.
“At the same time,” continued Coley, “he wanted his estate to go to the only relative he really liked and trusted, his niece Prin. So he told me he’d had Fish secretly draw up a valid will leaving everything to Prin, the secret will to be kept in Fish’s safe; and he said that the only ones in the world who knew about that will were Fish and himself — he hadn’t even let on to Prin.”
“So the way you see it,” said Grundy, “Fish must have suppressed the real will and drawn and signed the will you claim is fraudulent — the one leaving everything to Lallie O’Shea?”
“Who else could have drawn and signed it, me?” jeered Coley. “Who told you such a will exists, and that it’s old Slater’s last will and testament? Lawyer Fish. Who told you said will is in his possession? Lawyer Fish. Who’s going to read that will to the family? Lawyer Fish. Who’s going to file it for probate? Lawyer Fish. And who hasn’t breathed a syllable about the will old Slater told me was his last will and testament, the one leaving everything to Princess O’Shea? Lawyer Fish!”
“Maybe some time between the night Slater told you about the Princess will and his death, he had a change of mind and decided to leave everything to his sister,” pointed out Grundy. “That would collapse your whole argument.”
“Then why didn’t Fish mention that to you, Lieutenant? If that Lallie thing is valid and will stand up under examination, Fish wouldn’t have any reason to conceal the existence of an earlier will, would he?” Coley shook his head disgustedly. “Anyway, this whole Lallie-inherits-all caper reeks, and you know it. And I know it because of the way old Slater talked about his kin, including his sister Lallie... all except Prin, whom the old scoundrel doted on.”
Grundy rubbed his nose thoughtfully. “So you figure that Fish and Lallie are in a conspiracy in this thing — Fish doing the mechanical dirty work so Lallie can fraudulently inherit, on some kind of split arrangement?”
“How else is there to figure?” said Coley. “Come on, Lieutenant, get with it. You can bet your shield they’ve got something going between them. And don’t be surprised, when you dig into this midden heap, if you find more than a money arrangement between them. Lallie’s a pretty sleek little old girl, except for those hands of hers, and who knows? Maybe Selwyn Fish has a hand fetish, or something else that would fit right in with the rest of him — revolting as the idea sounds to a normal person like me.”
And Coley stopped, regarding Lieutenant Grundy coolly. Grundy was drumming out a jazz beat on his desk with four fingers of his right hand.
“You don’t buy it,” said Coley in a very flat voice. “By God, no wonder the United States has the highest crime rate in the world!”
But Grundy refused to be ruffled. “Let’s see what you’ve been trying to sell me,” he said. “For business and/or amorous reasons, Selwyn Fish, Slater O’Shea’s lawyer, and Lallie O’Shea, his only sister and closest blood-relative, enter into a murder conspiracy. Fish draws up the phony will naming Lallie as sole heir. Fish either destroys or hides the real will naming Princess O’Shea as Slater’s sole heir. Then Lallie O’Shea slips a lethal dose of that drug into her brother’s bourbon, either having procured it herself or, more likely, got hold of some through Fish. And that’s it. Very ingenious. There’s only one thing wrong with it.”
“What’s that?”
“I have only your word for it that any such conversation between you and Slater O’Shea took place. In other words, that any such will as the one you claim leaves everything to the niece exists or existed.”
“I knew you’d louse it up,” said Coley disgustedly. “Of course you’ve got only my word for it. How about you getting off your duff and proving I’m telling the truth?”
“Was there a witness to this conversation?”
“Of course not.”
“Why didn’t you come forward with this information before?”
“Would you expect a priest to come running to you with something he had heard in the confessional?” asked Coley with dignity. “A bartender holds just as sacred the confidences told to him over his bar. The only reason I’ve come in with the story is that I can’t stand by any longer, keeping this to myself. I’m not going to let my girl be cheated out of her rightful inheritance or those two fiends in human form get away with murder. By God, Lieutenant, you ought to be down on your knees thanking me for solving your case for you, instead of acting as if I were high man on the FBI’s most wanted list.”
“Easy, kid,” said Grundy. “I’m only doing—”
“Your duty? The hell you are! You should be out right now getting a court order to take that phony Lallie will out of Fish’s possession and having Slater O’Shea’s and the other signatures on it expertized. Do I have to point out to you that therein lies the weakness in the plot?”
“What weakness?” asked the lieutenant feebly.
“Look. That slippery Fish monger must have a thousand smelly contacts — you can bet he knows more than one forger who’d do a job for a price and keep his mouth shut. Or he forged old Slater’s name and the witnesses’ signatures himself — all he had to do was trace the signatures from the valid Prin will to the phony Lallie one. Who’d know the difference? Slater O’Shea is dead. The witnesses to his genuine signature, whoever they are, probably have no idea what was in the will they witnessed — the law only requires, as I understand it, that the testator declare the document they sign to be his legal will — he doesn’t have to let them read it or tell them what’s in it. So Fish figured he and Lallie O’Shea would be absolutely safe. And this is my clincher: Don’t forget that Fish never expected the forged Lallie will to be subjected to expert examination. He thought nobody knew about the genuine Prin will except old Slater and himself — how could he foresee that the old boy would spill it to me in his cups? So it’s my considered opinion, Lieutenant, that those signatures on the Lallie will won’t stand up for thirty seconds. Well?”
Grundy could not help shaking his head in admiration. “You’re quite a lad. All right, Coley, I’ll check your yarn out. By the way, have you told Princess O’Shea about this?”
“I didn’t know if I should, but I finally decided she had a right to know. I told her this afternoon, right after the funeral.”
“Did you tell her you were coming to me with the story?”
“Well, no,” said Coley, looking a bit shamefaced. “She asked me to promise not to tell you till she could have a talk with her Aunt Lallie. I sort of evaded promising. I mean, I’m pretty good at evading commitments when I deem it necessary.”