Chương 6
“And what would you have done?”
“Come.”
“You did not come when I asked before.”
He opened his mouth.
Miriam put on her glasses again.
“This conversation may be more useful if we do not convert every answer into a trial.”
Julian sat back.
Afterward, in the hospital car park, Evelyn asked to sit on a bench before getting into the wheelchair-accessible taxi.
The afternoon was warm for March. Daffodils grew beside the curb, several flattened by tires. Julian bought her a cup of tea from a kiosk. She took one sip and frowned.
“It tastes of cardboard.”
“They all do.”
“Your father could never drink from paper cups.”
“He drank whisky from a plastic beaker at Henley.”
“That was different. He was showing off.”
Evelyn watched an elderly man argue with the parking machine.
After a while, she said, “I was fond of Mara.”
Julian folded the cardboard sleeve around his cup.
“I know.”
“I don’t want people to think I am an idiot.”
“I don’t.”
“You did.”
“I thought you were mistaken about some things.”
“That is a polite arrangement of words.”
“Yes.”
The man at the parking machine struck the screen with the side of his hand. His wife called him a fool from several yards away.
Evelyn’s mouth twitched.
“I gave Mara my green coat,” she said.
“What?”
“The wool one. She admired it. I told her to take it.”
“All right.”
“She did not steal everything.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. You want everything sorted into drawers. Stolen. Given. True. False.” Evelyn rubbed the cardboard rim with one finger. “Sometimes I gave her things because she was kind. Then I gave her things because I was afraid she would stop being kind. I cannot tell you where one ended.”
Julian looked at the flattened daffodils.
“That doesn’t make this your fault.”
“I did not ask whose fault it was.”
The taxi arrived. He helped her stand without gripping too tightly.
Evelyn was discharged to a small private rehabilitation center twenty minutes from Ashcombe House. She selected it from three options after asking whether any had patterned carpets. She distrusted patterned carpets because they concealed stains and made steps difficult to judge.
Julian paid the first month from his own account.
His firm’s finance director called the same afternoon.
“We can make payroll,” Tom said. “After that, there isn’t a comfortable sentence.”
“Use an uncomfortable one.”
“We need cash within three weeks.”
Julian stood in the rehabilitation center’s garden while Evelyn attended an assessment inside.
“How much?”
Tom told him.
Julian closed his eyes.
A gardener was tying climbing roses to a trellis. She clipped a piece of string with her teeth and looked away when she noticed him watching.
“Sell my shares,” Julian said.
“At this valuation?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll lose control.”
“I’m aware.”
“Have you spoken to your mother?”
“No.”
“She might prefer to—”
“No.”
Tom was silent.
Julian watched the gardener gather cut stems into a bucket.
“We do this without her,” he said.
“You asked her in November.”
“I’m not asking again.”
The next police interview lasted nearly three hours.
Detective Sergeant Leila Morgan joined PC Shaw in a small room at the station. She placed printouts of Julian’s emails on the table.
Mara had provided them voluntarily.
The most damaging message was the one about the mausoleum. Another contained Julian’s proposal to convert the west wing into apartments. A third suggested selling paintings to cover care costs.
DS Morgan tapped the page.
“Ms. Bell says your mother feared you intended to take control of the estate.”
“I discussed options.”
“You referred to Ashcombe as financially indefensible.”
“It is.”
“You asked your mother for a loan of two hundred thousand pounds.”
“Yes.”
“She refused.”
“Yes.”
“Three weeks later, you contacted a specialist in capacity assessments.”
Julian stared at her.
“I contacted a geriatric consultant after she left the stove on.”
“Ms. Bell characterizes it differently.”
“Of course she does.”
“Did you tell us about the loan during your first statement?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because it had nothing to do with what I saw.”
DS Morgan leaned back.
“It gives you a financial interest in discrediting a proposed will that benefited Ms. Bell.”
Julian felt heat rise along his neck.
“My mother’s original will already leaves almost everything to me.”
“Which means a change creates a loss.”
“I did not know about the change until the police opened the bag.”
“That is your account.”
Julian looked at PC Shaw, who was reading her notes.
“You think I staged this?”
“I am identifying a claim the defense is likely to make,” DS Morgan said. “Ms. Bell says you entered the room, became aggressive, prevented her from assisting your mother, and misrepresented a routine medication dose.”
“She was taking jewelry.”
“She says it was being moved for safekeeping.”
“To a facility that doesn’t exist.”
“We confirmed there is a private storage company in Marlborough where Ms. Bell made an appointment that morning.”
Julian stopped.
“For what?”
“She says your mother requested a deposit box.”
“My mother had no account there.”
“An account was to be opened.”
“Using what?”
“Identification documents found in Ms. Bell’s handbag.”
Julian pushed his chair back.
“So she was taking my mother’s passport and jewelry to open a box under my mother’s name?”
“That is one interpretation.”
“What is hers?”
“That she was protecting valuables because your mother believed household staff were stealing.”
Julian thought of Mrs. Cotter standing in the bedroom with the vacuum attachment.
“She created that belief.”
“Can you prove it?”
“My mother can tell you.”
“Your mother has given a strong account. She has also acknowledged giving Ms. Bell property and asking for financial help. Her evidence will be examined carefully.”
“She was drugged.”
“She was given medication prescribed to her in the past. We have not established who administered it, when, or why.”
“The bottle was in Mara’s hand.”
“Yes.”
May you like
Julian stood and walked to the narrow window. A brick wall filled most of the view.
DS Morgan let him remain there.
