Thirteen Diamonds

CHAPTER 11

One of the names I had copied from Gerald's file was that of an attorney. A hand-written note next to the name had stated that he was the executor of Gerald's will. I had also copied a phone number.

I called the attorney’s number on Monday morning and after convincing his secretary to connect me with him because I was considering redoing my will I asked him about the contents of Gerald's will.

When he told me he couldn't give me that information, I said, in my best bluffing manner, “I believe all probate records are public information so you won't be breaking any laws. I am particularly interested in the bequest to Silver Acres because, as a resident I am concerned about its long term solvency since I intend to live here the rest of my life.”

He told me to wait a minute and put me on hold. Silence. No stirring music played to entertain me, such as you get when you call an airline. Of course the airlines are trying to keep you from hanging up and humming to the music of a competitor. After a minute he came back on the line and said, “Silver Acres will get $500,000.”

“ Five hundred thousand?” I asked. “I heard it was $100,000.”

“It was, originally, but I found a codicil with Gerald's effects raising it to $500,000. I didn't have anything to do with it, but it looks legitimate. It was signed by two witnesses and dated several weeks ago. I will check with the witnesses, of course, to make sure these are their valid signatures.”

“Uh, what other bequests did he make?”

The attorney rattled off several bequests to nonprofit organizations and then ended by citing an amount of $100,000 to a Ms. April Snow, a grandniece living in San Diego, California. When I casually asked for it he even gave me her address and telephone number.

“Is that the only money going to a person?” I asked.

“As far as cash payout, yes. But there was another typed codicil with the will, dated about two weeks ago. It says that a loan of $25,000 Gerald made will be forgiven if he dies before it is paid off.”

“Does it say who the loan was to?”

“A Mrs. Dora Flymore. But I couldn't find any loan agreement in his files, saying that she owed him this money.”

I gulped. “So this note is also a legal part of the will?”

“If it's legitimate. It has also been signed by two witnesses. If I can validate their signatures then I would say it is legally part of the will.”

“Can you tell me who the witnesses are?”

The attorney read two names. I recognized one as a resident of Silver Acres. I had no doubt that the signatures were valid. I thanked him and hung up. I sat there, my head spinning. So Gerald had lent money to Dora. They had had a closer relationship than she claimed. Twenty five thousand dollars. Was that sufficient to kill for? Of course people had been killed for a lot less-a few pennies or even for nothing.

I looked at my notes. Five hundred thousand dollars to Silver Acres. Now that was real money. Why had Carol been so far off in her estimate? Surely, she had talked to the attorney. I had scribbled down the other amounts, but not the donees. I added them up; the total came to over $2 million. Gerald had done very well for himself.

On the way to the pool aerobics class I told Tess about my misadventure of two nights before. She was properly shocked and said, “You could have been booted out of Silver Acres.”

“According to my son, I almost was.”

“Promise me, Lil. No more funny business. If you are forced to leave I won't have any friends here.”

I decided not to tell her what I had found out about Dora. I said, “Nonsense, Tess. Everybody likes you. You have tons of friends.”

“But not true friends like you.”

Next we would be pricking our fingers, mixing our blood and vowing to be loyal to each other forever. I said, “I'm going to have a few people over for drinks tonight before dinner. I have a bottle of champagne I've been saving for a special occasion. Then we can all eat together in the dining room.”

“Who are you inviting and what's the special occasion?”

“Besides you, I'm inviting the four members of the former bridge club lunch committee. And the special occasion is absolution.”

“Absolution for whom?”

“For all the members of the lunch committee.”

“Lil, are you up to something again?”

“Trust me.”

But before I could give absolution to anybody I had another item on my agenda. After the aerobics class ended, on the pretext of inviting Dora, who was in attendance, to my get-together I told Tess to go on back to the apartments without me. I did invite Dora and she accepted.

She headed for the mailboxes to check her mail so I walked along beside her. Talking low enough so that other people strolling the hallway couldn't hear, I said, “Do you know that you are mentioned in Gerald's will?”

I guess I should have prepared her for that. She turned white and I thought she was going to faint. I needed a nurse; then I remembered that Dora was a nurse. No help there. I had her sit down on a chair in the open area near the grand piano.

I was debating pulling out my cellular phone and calling for help when her color started to return. She insisted she was okay. I said, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shock you. I guess I thought you already knew.”

She shook her head. “I had no idea. Do I dare ask what it says?”

I told her the gist of it.

When I had finished she repeated, “I honestly had no idea he did that. I suppose that makes me a suspect now.” She looked very unhappy.

“Not necessarily,” I said, trying to cheer her up. “Can you fill in a few details for me? When did he make the loan to you and did you have a written agreement?”

“Of course we had a written agreement. I have a copy and he had a copy.”

“Apparently his copy has disappeared.”

“And you think I had something to do with that?”

“Dora, I don't think anything. I'm just telling you what happened.”

“Okay, I'd better tell you the story. About six months ago I was short of cash. I had gotten a short-term loan to help pay the entrance fee for Silver Acres. I was going to use some securities that had been in my husband's name to pay off the loan, but there was a snag about having them put in my name.” She sighed. “I don't understand all this financial and legal stuff.

“I didn't know who to turn to, but Gerald is such a nice man and I knew he was an economist, so I thought I'd ask him what to do. He listened sympathetically, and then he said he'd lend me the money. I protested; that's not why I had gone to him but he insisted.”

“You say that occurred six months ago?”

“I know what you're saying. So why haven't I paid off the loan? Actually, I was just about to do it. I finally got the problems with my husband's securities straightened out. But then Gerald was kill…died and it completely slipped my mind. I thought about it yesterday and I was going to contact his attorney this week. Honest.”

She was about to say, “Cross my heart and hope to die,” so how could I not believe her? I told Dora not to worry. After we checked our mail we were headed in different directions so I told her that I would see her at my champagne hour.

Fortunately, I was able to get them all to come. I knew Ida well enough, through our dogs, to simply say, “Come on over.” I told Harriet that Tess would be there and I told Ellen that I was gathering some of the members of the bridge club together.

They all arrived within five minutes of each other, clothed in their Sunday best. Actually, their evening best since dinners in the dining room were dressy occasions at Silver Acres. Tess arrived first and helped me put out a tray of cookies, champagne glasses and napkins.

Then came Harriet, worried because she thought she might be too early. Ellen arrived next, outwardly cheerful and relaxed, just as she had appeared on the croquet course, even when she was losing. I need to cultivate a facade like that.

Dora came into the apartment with her quick bird-like movements and hoped she wasn't late. She appeared to be fully recovered from the trauma of the morning. And then Ida swept in as if she owned the place, pausing only momentarily when she saw that Harriet was there.

When they had all taken seats I got out the champagne bottle and opened it. I poured a glass for each person, which Tess distributed, and then gave a toast. “I propose that we drink to the bridge club, to its members and to one member, in particular, who has recently left us, but who will remain in our hearts.”

When we had each sipped the champagne I said, “As you know, I have done some looking into Gerald's death. I have come to the conclusion that it was an accident. I can understand why none of you has admitted putting the lobster in the casserole, but it wasn't your fault. You can all relax because I won't be doing any more nosing around here.”

“Not lobster, crab,” Ida said. “The fact remains that somebody did put crab in the casserole, whether or not she intended to hurt Gerald. And I would like to go on record as saying that I was not the one who did it. I did not put the crab in the casserole.”

“Me, neither,” Harriet said, quickly. Assuming the forceful tone of Ida and looking straight at her, she repeated, “I did not put crab in the casserole.”

Ellen smiled and mimicked the others: “I did not put crab in the casserole.”

Dora looked around the room and said, “I guess I'm the only suspect who hasn't pleaded not guilty, so here goes. “I did not put crab in the casserole.”

These spontaneous statements brought chuckles, but I could see that Ida was not smiling. I said, “Well, I guess that takes care of that. It must have been an act of God. Let's go to dinner.”

A telephone rang. I automatically started for the den where my phone was located, even though the sound didn't seem to be coming from there.

“It's mine,” Ellen said, pulling a cellular phone out of her purse. “I'm sorry; my sister is always calling me.”

I mentally cursed people with cell phones who took calls, no matter where they happened to be. I only gave out my phone number to a few people and warned them not to call me on it except in case of dire emergency, such as an imminent collision of earth with an asteroid.

Fortunately, not many of us old dames had cellular phones yet. Ellen and I were the only ones I knew of. And the only other time I had seen Ellen use her phone was once at the bridge club. Or at least I remembered seeing her punching a number. I didn't think she had actually talked to anybody because the fire alarm had gone off about then. It had happened the day of Gerald's death.

Ellen didn't talk long and we all trooped out the door and over to the dining room. Tess and I lagged slightly behind the others. As we walked across a wooden footbridge that goes over the local creek, Tess said, “What do you think?”

“Either we're chasing the wrong fox or one of them is a damned good liar.”