Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 2. Ngaio Marsh

The little lawyer listened attentively.

      ‘Precisely,’ he said when Alleyn had finished. ‘An excellent account and substantially correct. Accurate.’

      ‘Miss Quayne’s affairs have always been in your hands, sir?’

      ‘Oh, yes. Yes. Colonel Quayne – her father – old family clients. Charming fellow.’

      ‘You have seen Miss Quayne recently?’

      ‘Five weeks ago tomorrow.’

      ‘On that occasion did she wish to alter her Will?’

      ‘Um? You heard of that?’

      ‘From M. de Ravigne. I hope you will tell me anything that strikes you as being relevant.’

      ‘It is exceedingly distasteful to me to discuss my clients’ affairs, Chief Inspector. Of course, I quite appreciate the extraordinary nature of the matter. Since you rang up I have considered the advisability of – of – speaking with complete frankness, and – I – in short I have decided to lay the whole matter before you.’

      Mr Rattisbon suddenly snatched his pince-nez from his nose and waved them at Alleyn.

      ‘As follows,’ he said. ‘Five weeks ago I received a visit from Miss Cara Valerie Quayne. She had advised me first that she wished to make an extensive alteration in her Will, and then that she desired me to draw up a new Will. I therefore had the existing document in readiness for her visit. She arrived.’ He rubbed his nose violently. ‘And I may say she astounded me.’

      Alleyn was silent. After contemplating him with severity for some seconds Mr Rattisbon leant across the desk and continued:

      ‘She astounded me. The previous Will had been a very proper and sensible disposition of her considerable fortune. Several large sums to various worthy charities. Annuities to her servants. Various legacies. The residuary legatee was a third cousin in New Zealand. A boy whom she has never seen, but he bears her father’s name. And so on and so on and so on. Perfectly proper. She now informed me that she wished me completely to revise these terms and – in short to draw up a new document. On these lines: She wished the annuity of two hundred pounds per annum to Miss Edith Laura Hebborn to be increased to three hundred pounds per annum. The lease of her house, its contents, her pictures, jewels and so on to M. Raoul Honoré Christophe de Ravigne. A – a handsome legacy to Father Jasper Garnette. The rest of her very considerable fortune – every penny piece of it – she would leave to the House of the Sacred Flame, 89 Knocklatchers Row, Eaton Place, making Father Garnette the sole trustee.’

      ‘Gosh!’ said Alleyn.

      ‘You may well say so. I – frankly, Chief Inspector – I was horrified. I had known Miss Quayne from her childhood. Her father was a personal friend as well as a client. In a sense I may say I had considered myself in loco parentis, since both guardians were deceased. When I first became aware of Miss Quayne’s increasing interest in Mr Garnette’s sect I went so far as to make inquiries about him. What I discovered did not reassure me. On the contrary I became gravely suspicious. Then, to crown everything, she came to me with the request that I should draw up a Will on the lines I have indicated.’

      ‘Extraordinary.’

      ‘Most extraordinary. As a solicitor I have become accustomed to testamentary – ah – vagaries. I have become accustomed to them. But this caused me the greatest concern. I exceeded the strict limits of propriety by urging her again and again to reconsider. I represented to her that this Father Garnette might not be all she thought him. I strongly urged her to allow me to make further inquiries. When all else failed I begged that she at least left this very considerable sum to be administered by other trustees on behalf of the – the – religious body in which she had become so interested. Not a bit of it!’

      ‘She insisted on leaving Mr Garnette as sole trustee?’

      ‘Precisely. She was in a most excitable frame of mind and was impatient, I may say intolerant, of any suggestions. I put it to her that her father would have regarded the terms of the new Will with abhorrence. She would not listen. She – in short, she said that if I made any further difficulties she would get a Will form from – from a Smith’s bookstall and fill it in herself.’

      Mr Rattisbon dropped his pince-nez delicately on his blotting-paper and by this moderate gesture conveyed a sense of overwhelming defeat.

      ‘I drew up the Will,’ he said. ‘Three days afterwards, she came here and signed it.’

      ‘So that’s that,’ grunted Alleyn. ‘By how much does the sect benefit?’

      ‘In round figures, twenty-one thousand pounds.’

      ‘And may I ask, sir, by how much Mr Jasper Garnette is to be a richer man?’

      ‘Ten thousand pounds.’

      ‘Damn!’ said Alleyn.

      Mr Rattisbon shot a shrewd glance at him.

      ‘May I take it as your personal opinion that he will live to – to enjoy it?’ he asked.

      ‘He’ll need it before I’m done with him.’

      ‘That is a cryptic answer, Chief Inspector.’

      ‘Yours was a leading question, sir.’

      Mr Rattisbon suddenly sucked in his breath three or four times very rapidly and uttered a little whooping noise. He had laughed.

      ‘In any case,’ Alleyn went on, ‘couldn’t the Will be contested? What about the young Quayne, down under? What about coercion? Or her mental condition? I’m entirely ignorant of the law, sir, but suppose – well, suppose he’d been giving her drugs?’

      Mr Rattisbon stared at the inspector for some seconds.

      ‘If you find evidence of that,’ he said at last, ‘I would be greatly obliged if you would call on me again.’

      ‘Certainly.’ Alleyn stood up. ‘By the way, have you any idea why she increased the bequest to Miss Hebborn?’

      ‘I received an impression that – that it was in the nature of a – how shall I put it? – of a peace-offering. Miss Hebborn had, I believe, expressed herself somewhat warmly on the subject of the sect, which she regarded in a most unfavourable light. There had been a heated argument, hasty words amounting to a quarrel. Miss Quayne was greatly attached to her old nurse, who had given her devoted service. From certain remarks she let fall I gathered that she wished to – in a sense to make reparation.’

      ‘And the bequest to M. de Ravigne? It will amount to something pretty considerable, I imagine. The pictures alone are worth a great deal. There’s a very fine Van Gogh and I noticed a Famille Verte “ginger” jar that wouldn’t be had for the asking.’

      ‘Precisely. M. de Ravigne is an old friend of the family and, I understand, a collector. I have not the pleasure of his acquaintance.’

      ‘He has an intriguing temperament. I must go. Goodbye, sir, and thank you a thousand times.’

      ‘Goodbye. Yes. Thank-yer. Thank-yer. Don’t mention it. Yes,’ gabbled Mr Rattisbon with extreme rapidity. He walked out first on to the landing and there leant forward and peered up into Alleyn’s face. ‘And I hope you’re going to – eh? By the heels? Eh? Always interested in your work. This time – natural anxiety. Well. Mind the steps.’

      ‘I hope so. Of course. Thank you,’ said Alleyn.

      He had a short interview with his Assistant Commissioner, lunched in the Strand and went straight to Knocklatchers Row. Here he found Claude and Lionel and all the Initiates who had been rung up from the Yard grouped in a solid phalanx round Father Garnette’s sitting-room under the eye of Detective-Sergeant Bailey. The priest, looking extremely cadaverous and yellow, was seated at the centre table. Nigel, who had hung about the entrance with Inspector Fox, followed the detectives into the room.

      ‘Good afternoon, ladies and