her first name, because you think it irritates me. It does. Don't do it. Shut up.' --I told Mrs. Dunn it was an intolerable invasion of your inalienable right to sit here in peace and watch the bank balance disappear in the darkening twilight of the slow but inevitable dispersion of your mental powers and the pitiful collapse of your instinct of self-preservation--' FR1;8 WHERE THERE'S A WILL 'Archie!' He thumped the desk. It was time to side-step, but I was rescued from that necessity by the door's opening and the appearance of Fritz Brenner. Fritz was beaming, and I could .guess why. The visitors he had come to announce had probably impressed him as something unusually promising in the way of clients. The only secrets in Nero Wolfe's old house on 3 ?th Street near the Hudson River were professional secrets. It was unavoidable that I, his secretary, bodyguard, and chief assistant, should be aware that the exchequer was having its bottom scraped; but Fritz Brenner, cook and gentleman of the household, and Theodore Horstmann, custodian of the famous and expensive collection of orchids which Wolfe maintained in the plant rooms on the roof--they knew it too. And Fritz was beaming, obviously, because the trio whose arrival he was announcing looked more like a major fee than anything the office had seen for weeks. He did it in style. Wolfe told him, with no enthusiasm, to show them in. I took my feet off the desk. Though the extraordinary Hawthorne gals did not strongly resemble one another, my discreet glances of appraisal as I got them arranged into chairs made it credible that they were daughters of the same amazing mother. April I had seen on WHERE THERE*S A WILL 9 the stage; now that I got a look at her off of it, I was ready to concede that she could probably take Nero Wolfe's office by storm if she cared to let loose. She looked hot, peevish, beautiful^ and overwhelming. When she thanked me for her chair I decided to marry her as soon as I could save up enough to buy a new pair of shoes. May, the intellectual giant and college president, surprised me. She looked sweet. Later, seeing how determined her mouth could get, and how cutting her voice, when the occasion required it, I made drastic revisions, but then she just looked sweet, harmless, and not quite middle-aged. June, Mrs. Dunn to you, was slenderer than either of her younger sisters, next door to skinny, with hair that was turning gray, and restless dark burning eyes? the kind of eyes that have never been satisfied and never will be. Where they all looked alike was chiefly the forehead?broad, rather high, with wellmarked temple depressions and strong eye ridges. June did the introducing; first herself and her sisters, and then the two males who accompanied them. Their names were Stauffer and Prescott. Stauffer was probably under forty, maybe five years older than me, not a bad-looking guy if he had been a little more careless with his face. He was living up to something. The other one, Prescott, ^s nearer fifty. He was medium-short, with a FR1;10 WHERE THERE'S A WILL central circumference that made it seem likely he would grunt if he bent over to tie his shoestring. Nothing, of course, like Nero White's globular grandeur. I recognized him from a picture I had seen in the rotogravure when he had been elected to something in the Bar Association. He was Glenn Prescott of the law firm of Dunwoodie, Prescott & Davis. He had on a Metzger shirt and tie, and a suit that cost a hundred and fifty bucks, and wore a flower in his buttonhole. The flower was the cause of a little diversion right at the beginning. I have given up trying to decide whether Wolfe does those things just to establish the point that he's eccentric, or because he's curious, or to spar for time to size someone up, or what. Anyhow, they had barely got settled in their chairs when he aimed his eyes at Prescott and asked politely: 'Is that a centaurea?' 'I beg your pardon?' Prescott looked blank. 'Oh, you mean my buttonhole. I don't know. I just stop at the florist's and select something.' 'You wear a flower without knowing its name?' 'Certainly. Why not?' 'Wolfe shrugged. 'I never saw a centaurea of that color before.' 'It isn't,' Mrs. Dunn put in impatiently. 'A centaurea cyanus has a much closer formation--' I WHERE THERE'S A WILL 11 'I didn't say centaurea cyanus, madam.' Wolfe sounded testy. 'I had in mind centaurea leuco- phylla.' 'Oh. I've never seen one. Anyway, that isn't a centaurea leuco-anything. It's a dianthus superbus.' April started to laugh. May smiled at her as Einstein would smile at a kitten. June darted her eyes that way and April stopped laughing and said in her famous rippling voice: 'You win, Juno. It's a dianthus superbus. I don't mind your always being right, not a bit, but when anything strikes me as funny it's my nature to laugh. And,. I might inquire, was I dragged down here to hear you treat the audience to a spot of botany?' 'You weren't dragged,' the elderly sister retoned. 'At least not by me.' May fluttered a deprecating hand. 'You must forgive us, Mr. Wolfe. Our nerves are quite ragged. We do wish to consult you about something serious.' She looked at me and smiled so sweetly that I smiled back. Then she added to Wolfe, 'And something extremely confidential.' 'That's all right,' Wolfe assured her. 'Mr. Goodwin is my ame damnee. I could do nothing without him. The spot of botany was my fault; ^'ted it. Tell me about the something serious.' Prescott inquired reluctantly, 'Shall I explain?' 12 WHERE THERE'S A WILL || fc WHERE THERE'S A WILL ? 13 April, waving a hand to extinguish the match ices of an able, astute, discreet and unscrupulous with which she had lit a cigarette, and squinting man.' to keep the smoke from her eyes, shook her head 'That's diplomacy for you,' said April, tapping at him. 'Fat chance of a man explaining anything ash from her cigarette. with all three of us present.' It was ignored. Wolfe inquired, 'What kind of 'I think,' May suggested, 'it would be better services?' if June?' I decided what it was about June's face that Mrs. Dunn said abruptly, 'It's my brother's needed adjustment. Her eyes were the eyes of a will.' hawk, but her nose, which should have been a beak Wolfe frowned at her. He hated fights about to go with the eyes, was just a straight good- lookwills, having once gone so far as to tell a prospec- ing nose. I preferred to look at April. But June was tive client that he refused to engage in a tug of talking: war with a dead man's guts for a rope. But he 'Very exceptional services, I'm afraid. My hus- asked not too rudely, 'Is there something wrong band says nothing but a miracle will do, but he's with the will?' a cautious and conservative man. You know of 'There is.' June's tone was incisive. 'But first course that my brother died on Tuesday, three days I'd like to say?you're a detective. It's not a detec- ago. The funeral was held yesterday afternoon. Mr. tive we need. It was my idea we should come to you. Prescott?my brother's attorney?collected us last Not so much on account of your reputation, more evening to read the will to us. Its contents shocked because of what you did once for a friend of mine, ^d astonished us?all of us, without exception.' Mrs. Llewellyn Frost. She was then Glenna McNair. Wolfe made a little sound of distaste. I knew it Also I have heard my husband speak highly of you. f01' that, but I suppose it might have passed for I gathered that you had done something difficult empathy to people who had just met him. But he for the State Department.' saiddrylv: 'Thank you. But,' Wolfe objected, 'you say Those disagreeable shocks would never occur you don't need a detective.' tlle ^'eritance tax were one hundred per cent.' 'We don't. But we very much need the serv- 1 suppose so. You sound like a Bolshevik. But it 14 WHERE THERE'S A WILL wasn't the disappointment of expectant legatee;. it was something much worse?' 'Excuse me,' May put in quietly. 'In my case it was. He had told me he was leaving a million dollars to the science fund.' 'I am merely saying,' June declared impatiently, 'that we are not hyenas. Certainly none of us was calculating on any imminent inheritance from Noel. We knew of course that he was wealthy, but he was only forty-nine and in extremely good health.' She turned to Prescott. 'I think, Glenn, the quickest way will be for you to tell Mr. Wolfe briefly the provisions of the will.' The lawyer cleared his throat. 'I must remind you again, June, that once it is made public?' 'Mr. Wolfe will take it in confidence. Won't you?' Wolfe nodded. 'Certainly.' 'Well.' Prescott cleared his throat again. He looked at Wolfe. 'Mr. Hawthorne left a number of small bequests to servants and employees, a total of one hundred and sixty-four thousand dollars. A hundred thousand to each of the two children of his sister, Mrs. John Charles Dunn, and a like amount to the science fund of Varney College. Five hundred thousand to his wife; he had no children. An apple to his sister June, a pear to his sister May, and a peach to his sister April.' The lawyer looked FR1;WHERE THERE^S A WILL 15 uncomfortable. 'I assure you that Mr. Hawthorne, who was not only my client but my friend, was not a freak. There was a statement that his sisters needed nothing of this, that he made those bequests only as symbols of his regard.' 'Indeed. Does that cover the estate? Around a million?' 'No.' Prescott looked even more uncomfortable. 'The residue will be roughly seven million, after the deduction of taxes. Probably a little less. It was left to a woman whose name is Naomi Karn.' 'La femme,' said April. It was neither a sneer nor a flippancy, merely a statement of fact. Wolfe sighed. Prescott said, 'The will was drawn by me after instructions from Mr. Hawthorne. It is dated March 7, 1938, and replaced one which had been drawn three years previously. It was kept in a vault 'i the office of my firm. I mention this on account of intimations made last evening by Mrs. Dunn and Miss May Hawthorne that I should have notinea them of its contents at the time it was drawn. As you know, Mr. Wolfe, that would have been--' 'Nonsense,' May said cuttingly. 'You know - ,y very well we were upset. We were gasping.' ''/ r'/>.-;^^ 'We still are.' June's eyes pierced Wolfe. 'You wu! please understand that my sisters and I are 16 WHERE THERE'S A WILL perfectly satisfied with our fruit. It isn't that. But think of it, the sensation and scandal of it! I can hardly believe it! None of us can. It's incredible. My brother leaving his entire fortune, the bulk of it, to that--that--' 'Woman,' April suggested. 'Very well. Woman.' 'It was his fortune,' Wolfe observed. 'And apparently that's what he did with it.' 'Meaning?' May inquired. 'Meaning that if it's the sensation and scandal you object to, the less you say and do about it the sooner it will be forgotten.' 'Thank you,' said June sarcastically. 'We need something better than that. The publication of the will alone would be bad enough. Considering that millions are involved, and the position of my husband, and of my sisters--My Lord! Don't you realize that we're the famous Hawthorne girls,
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