management of Silver Acres and her choice of cars, since we both drove Mercedes. She, in turn, praised my rolls and my apple pie.
And my dog, King. She said, “He's such a beautiful dog. And I wouldn't expect him to be so gentle.” King lay quietly near the dining table.
“Oh, she has her urges. If I let her I'm sure she'd gobble up some of the bunnies at Silver Acres.”
“You know, that's not a bad idea. Excuse my French, but those damn bunnies have been eating our plants. One of these days I'm going to declare open season on them.”
“And I was going to ship all my rabbits over to Silver Acres,” Albert said, “thinking they'd have a good home there. Better they munch on your plants than my garden.”
While she was eating a piece of my pie, Carol said, “Lillian, I've been talking to Albert about you.”
Uh oh, I thought, here it comes.
“Albert told me something about your life. You have led such an adventurous life, with all your travel and everything, it's no wonder you find Silver Acres boring. He said you have thousands of slides from your trips. That gave me an idea. Why don't you put together a series of slide lectures for the residents. They would love it.”
And it would keep me busy so that I couldn't get into trouble. But anything to stay on Carol's good side. Actually, I did have some great slides. And they were already well organized. It wouldn't take much work. I told her I'd be glad to give travel lectures.
I had been meaning to ask Carol a question and this seemed to be a good opportunity, while everything was sweetness and light. “You mentioned that Gerald's will left most of his money to charity. Do you know which ones?”
“I only know one,” Carol said, smiling. “He left some of his money to Silver Acres. After all, we are a nonprofit organization and since we pledged never to evict a resident for financial reasons we can always use donations.”
But apparently they could evict residents for unruly behavior. I had better reread the rules and regulations.
“It wasn't meant to be a nonprofit organization,” Albert said. “It just turned out that way.”
I snorted. I had heard that old joke before. I asked, “How much did Gerald leave to Silver Acres?”
“I'm not sure, but I think it's about $100,000.”
“That's better than catching the plague,” Albert said. “I wish I could find a few donors like that for the UNC History Department. We need to endow a chair for me so I don't have to worry about where the money to pay my salary is coming from.”
Gerald was a generous man. I wondered what organizations or persons were the beneficiaries of the rest of his estate.
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
