“The remainder of his estate, James left to Sarah Buckminster.” He took a deep breath and sighed.
“You seem in some way unhappy about this,” Stone said.
“I must tell you, I counseled James against it. He came in to make a will which would take effect on his marriage to Sarah. We went over everything very carefully, the full list of his assets. I was quite all right with it all, but when he came back to sign the will, after it had been typed, he noted that the will would take effect on their marriage, and, rather offhandedly, he asked that it be changed to have immediate effect. When I questioned this, he said, ‘Oh, hell, I’m marrying the girl in a few months’ time, just do as I ask.’ So I had the page retyped, and he signed it.”
“Was the will properly attested to and witnessed?”
“Of course,” Wainwright replied, sounding offended.
“Are you satisfied that the will represents his true intentions at the time he made it?”
“As unwise as his intentions may have been, yes.”
“Then I don’t see any problem.”
“You’ve read this morning’s papers?”
“The Times and the Independent.”
“Not the tabloids?”
“They don’t have the tabloids at the Connaught.”
“Well, they’ve as much as accused Sarah of murdering James for his money.”
“Then I should think she’d have a very good libel suit against the tabloids,” Stone said.
“Quite,” Wainwright replied.
“Tell me,” Stone said, “when James made this sudden decision to have his will take effect immediately, did he in any way intimate that Sarah was aware of this decision?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“And his decision seemed to you to be made on the spur of the moment?”
“Yes.”
“Are you aware that Sarah was unaware of the will until I told her about it this morning?”
Wainwright’s considerable eyebrows shot up. “No, I was not. And, may I ask, how did you become aware of the contents of the will?”
“I was told by Sir Bernard Pickering,” Stone replied, watching for a reaction, and he got it.
Wainwright gulped but seemed unable to speak.
“Are you and Sir Bernard acquainted?” Stone asked.
“We are next-door neighbors in the country,” Wainwright replied.
“And when did you convey the intent of the will to Sir Bernard?”
Wainwright was perspiring now. “I was having dinner at his home on Saturday evening, when he got the call from Lord Wight, requesting his services. I thought it my duty to make him aware of the circumstances.”
“For which I’m sure he was grateful,” Stone said. “What is the date on the will?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“And during that time, did you divulge the contents to any other person, apart from Sir Bernard?”
“I did not.”
“To your knowledge, did James Cutler tell anyone else?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Do you believe he might have told Sarah about the will?”
“I suppose it’s possible.”
“How long did you represent James Cutler?”
“More than twenty years; we were at Eton together.”
“Were you good friends?”
“Very good friends.”
“Given your knowledge of your friend and client, do you think it is likely that he would have told Sarah of the contents of the will?”
Wainwright thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I do not. James was very closemouthed about that sort of thing.”
“That being the case, can we agree that, since Sarah was unlikely to know the contents of the will, there would be no motive for her to intentionally cause his death?”
“I . . . believe we can,” Wainwright replied.
“Then I think it would be appropriate for you to issue a public statement to that effect.”
Wainwright looked puzzled. “I don’t think I’ve ever issued a public statement about anything.”
“Do you know someone at one of the large newspapers?”
The solicitor brightened. “Why, yes, I was at school with a fellow at the Times.”
“Then I think a phone call to him and a brief interview on the subject would suffice, and your friend would be grateful to you for the story.”
“That’s rather a good idea,” Wainwright said, looking pleased.
Stone avoided chuckling. A largish percentage of the law firms in New York would have retained a publicist for such a chore. “Is there anything else that Sarah should know about the will?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“I think she should see a list of James’s assets and liabilities,” Stone pointed out.
“Oh, of course.” He shuffled through the papers on his desk. “I had him prepare a financial statement in conjunction with signing the will.” He handed some papers to Stone. “And a copy of the will for Sarah.”
Stone looked quickly through the documents. “He didn’t have any debt to speak of.”
“None more than thirty days old.”
“And you are the executor?”
“At James’s request.”
“Sir Bernard suggested to me that his holdings might easily be sold to one of the wine and spirits conglomerates.”