‘He likes young women?’
‘He’s a total waster, sir.’
‘But is he a murderer?’
‘If it affected his lifestyle, he might feel inclined.’
‘Could he have killed Montague?’
‘To ensure the title?’ Larry asked.
‘Why not?’ Isaac answered.
‘Montague Grenfell had control of the money, the titles to all of the properties. Did he set up a proxy in case he was indisposed?’
‘It’s a question that needs answering. We should ask Bridget to check.’
Wendy leant over to the door entrance and shouted for Bridget to come over.
Bridget brought a sheet of paper with her.
‘Bridget, who will take control of Montague’s legal and financial responsibilities?’
‘I have a copy of his will, sir.’
Isaac scanned the document. ‘Albert, the first executor, then Mavis Richardson. The wealth stays within the Grenfell family, so Malcolm’s claim on the money and the house is secure. There is also a generous amount of money to be taken from his estate and given to Mavis Richardson.’
‘What does it mean?’ Larry asked.
‘He trusts Mavis, but not Malcolm,’ Bridget said.
‘That is fine, but everyone in this will, except for Malcolm Grenfell, is over eighty years of age. Any one of them could die at any time.’
‘In that case, full control would probably go to Malcolm.’
‘The man has a strong motive, at least for the murder of his brother.’
‘Is Mavis Richardson at risk?’ Larry asked.
‘DCI, you mentioned George Sullivan,’ Wendy said.
‘Lord Penrith identified him as the unknown man in the photos.’
‘Who is he?’
‘That’s up to you and Larry.’
‘Are we saying that Albert Grenfell and his wife attended the wife-swapping parties?’
‘The photos may be unrelated. George Sullivan may know.’
‘Where do we look, sir?’
‘According to the elder Grenfell, he had a house in Berkshire. Not much to go on, but that is all there is. Maybe check Montague’s records.’
***
Albert Grenfell died two days after Isaac had spoken to him. Wendy and Larry informed Malcolm Grenfell by phone. They could hear the sound of people and music in the background. The new Lord Penrith did not turn the music down.
The new lord was delighted and intended to enjoy his good fortune with more drink and more food. The frivolous twenty-something that Larry and Wendy met had been replaced by another.
Mavis Richardson took the news badly when Wendy told her. ‘He was a good man. Old fashioned, but genuine. Who’s left now?’ Mavis said. Wendy thought she looked a lot older than when she had previously seen her.
‘Did he attend any of your parties?’
‘Yes. On a couple of occasions.’
‘And his wife?’
‘Once.’
‘What can you tell me about George Sullivan?’
‘He was a friend of Albert’s.’
‘He was at one of your parties?’
‘We never invited him again.’
‘Why?’
‘He was a coarse man.’
‘Would you care to elaborate?’
‘We only agreed that he could come if he brought a woman with him.’
‘And he did?’
‘No. He came on his own.’
‘But he stayed?’
‘He was an attractive man. Gertrude wanted him immediately, but I could see he was trouble.’
‘How?’
‘He started putting his hands on me.’
‘Was that a problem?’
‘In front of everyone?’
‘Are you saying that behind closed doors it was okay, but not in front of the guests?’
‘It’s basic good manners, and he had very few of them.’
‘Did you sleep with him?’
‘Gertrude did.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘He wanted to, and if he had been more of a gentleman, I probably would have.’
‘Was Montague Grenfell there?’
‘No.’
‘What happened after you refused?’
‘He became drunk, accused me of being a prick teaser. In the end, the party ended early, and Albert led him away.’
‘His wife came as well?’
‘She didn’t take part.’
‘And Albert?’
‘I slept with him the one time. Gertrude, on another.’
‘Where can I find George Sullivan?’ Wendy asked.
‘I’ve no idea. He may be dead, same as all of us. I am the only one still alive. You do realise that?’
‘We found Malcolm.’
‘Still living it up with his young tarts?’
‘You never mentioned that you knew where he was.’
‘I never knew. Did Montague?’
‘Montague knew everything,’ Wendy said. ‘And Malcolm is now the incumbent lord.’
‘Does he know?’
‘I told him.’
‘He will destroy the good name of the Grenfells. He is the last of the line. After him, there will be no more Lord Penriths.’
‘Is that a bad thing?’ Wendy asked.
‘I still believe breeding counts for something,’ Mavis Richardson said.
Wendy realised that it was not for her to discuss Montague Grenfell’s will. That was for a more formal occasion. Wendy assumed that Mavis Richardson knew its contents, but she would only live for a few more years before she died, or became too old and frail to understand what was required of her. Wendy wondered what happened in such circumstances, but assumed there was a procedure.
‘Have you nominated another lawyer?’ Wendy asked.
‘Not yet. I’m not sure who I can trust.’
‘Maybe you should.’
‘Malcolm will turn the ancestral home into a bordello,’ Mavis said.
‘Garry Solomon had a son.’
‘I am aware of that.’
Mavis Richardson appeared tired. Wendy made her excuses and left, not sure what she had achieved by visiting. The old woman had not provided any more useful information, and judging by her condition, she was not in a fit state to take on the responsibilities as the executor of Montague Grenfell’s will.
Lord Penrith’s wealth would be a sufficient motive for anyone, and Gertrude was independently wealthy, as was Mavis. What would happen if Mavis died? She had no living relatives, other than an ex-husband, but he was at death’s door.
The only person who had anything to gain from Mavis’s death would be Kevin Solomon, the son of Garry Solomon.
Wendy phoned Larry. They agreed to meet up with Kevin Solomon to see if he knew
