After the Funeral - Agatha Christie [5]
“I propose to send you all copies of the will. I can read it to you in full now if you like but its legal phraseology may seem to you rather obscure. Briefly it amounts to this: After certain small bequests and a substantial legacy to Lanscombe to purchase an annuity, the bulk of the estate—a very considerable one—is to be divided into six equal portions. Four of these, after all duties are paid, are to go to Richard’s brother Timothy, his nephew George Crossfield, his niece Susan Banks, and his niece Rosamund Shane. The other two portions are to be held upon trust and the income from them paid to Mrs. Helen Abernethie, the widow of his brother Leo; and to his sister Mrs. Cora Lansquenet, during their lifetime. The capital after their death to be divided between the other four beneficiaries or their issue.”
“That’s very nice!” said Cora Lansquenet with real appreciation. “An income! How much?”
“I—er—can’t say exactly at present. Death duties, of course, will be heavy and—”
“Can’t you give me any idea?”
Mr. Entwhistle realized that Cora must be appeased.
“Possibly somewhere in the neighbourhood of three to four thousand a year.”
“Goody!” said Cora. “I shall go to Capri.”
Helen Abernethie said softly:
“How very kind and generous of Richard. I do appreciate his affection towards me.”
“He was very fond of you,” said Mr. Entwhistle. “Leo was his favourite brother and your visits to him were always much appreciated after Leo died.”
Helen said regretfully:
“I wish I had realized how ill he was—I came up to see him not long before he died, but although I knew he had been ill, I did not think it was serious.”
“It was always serious,” said Mr. Entwhistle. “But he did not want it talked about and I do not believe that anybody expected the end to come as soon as it did. The doctor was quite surprised, I know.”
“‘Suddenly, at his residence’ that’s what it said in the paper,” said Cora, nodding her head. “I wondered then.”
“It was a shock to all of us,” said Maude Abernethie. “It upset poor Timothy dreadfully. So sudden, he kept saying. So sudden.”
“Still, it’s been hushed up very nicely, hasn’t it?” said Cora.
Everybody stared at her and she seemed a little flustered.
“I think you’re all quite right,” she said hurriedly. “Quite right. I mean—it can’t do any good—making it public. Very unpleasant for everybody. It should be kept strictly in the family.”
The faces turned towards her looked even more blank.
Mr. Entwhistle leaned forward:
“Really, Cora, I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you mean.”
Cora Lansquenet looked round at the family in wide-eyed surprise. She tilted her head on one side with a birdlike movement.
“But he was murdered, wasn’t he?” she said.
Three
I
Travelling to London in the corner of a first-class carriage Mr. Entwhistle gave himself up to somewhat uneasy thought over that extraordinary remark made by Cora Lansquenet. Of course Cora was a rather unbalanced and excessively stupid woman, and she had been noted, even as a girl, for the embarrassing manner in which she had blurted out unwelcome truths. At least, he didn’t mean truths—that was quite the wrong word to use. Awkward statements—that was a much better term.
In his mind he went back over the immediate sequence to that unfortunate remark. The combined stare of many startled and disapproving eyes had roused Cora to a sense of the enormity of what she had said.
Maude had exclaimed, “Really, Cora!” George had said, “My dear Aunt Cora.” Somebody else had said, “What do you mean?”
And at once Cora Lansquenet, abashed, and convicted of enormity, had burst into fluttering phrases.
“Oh I’m sorry—I didn’t mean—oh, of course, it was very stupid of me, but I did think from what he said—Oh, of course I know it’s quite all right, but his death was so sudden—please forget that I said anything at all—I didn’t mean to be so stupid—I know I’m always saying the wrong thing.”
And then the momentary upset had died down and there had been a practical discussion about the disposition of the late Richard Abernethie’s personal effects. The