Desmond, her husband, was an honest man, and he would help, but he was used to dealing with trustworthy people, not with Leonard and Jill Dundas. But Ralph knew crooks, and he knew how to deal with them. She needed him as her special adviser.
***
Isaac Cook and his team in Homicide studied Gilbert Lawrence’s letter from beyond the grave. The distribution of the wealth was not the primary concern, although it was important. What concerned them more was what the dead man had revealed about the death of his wife, Dorothy. Wendy Gladstone and Bridget Halloran abhorred the cavalier manner with which he had described his wife in the cellar. Larry Hill was more intrigued by the process. All, including Isaac, could not believe it was the behaviour of a rational man, a man capable of satisfying three respectable psychoanalysts on three continents that he was sane.
The experts’ results were of no concern if they were legitimate, but what if the tests had been falsified? If they had been, as seemed possible, then it would invalidate Lawrence’s will, which in turn would throw the motives behind the man’s death into confusion.
‘How do we prove this?’ Bridget said.
‘Research these companies, see what they have to say.’
‘I’ve done some research, not of the companies, but what constitutes insanity.’
‘And?’ Isaac said, knowing full well that Bridget would have been thorough.
‘If the will is to be contested…’
‘Assume it is,’ Isaac said. ‘Ralph Lawrence has been left out of any immediate money, and Caroline Lawrence is only to receive a minor amount.’
‘Five million pounds, minor?’ Larry said. He was struggling with finding fifty thousand for his wife’s house-hunting plans. To him, Caroline Lawrence had received a fortune.
‘The dead man had a property portfolio in the billions. And it’s still with Leonard Dundas. If that man has concealed some of his client’s money and property holdings, there’s no way that anyone could find out the full extent of what the man owned.’
‘He’s either the greatest crook or naively honest,’ Wendy said.
‘Have you met any honest men lately?’ Larry said.
‘My husband was, but he could only lay claim to a small pension and a bungalow. Apart from him, there aren’t too many, especially if they’re worth hundreds of millions.’
‘We can debate this ad infinitum,’ Isaac said, ‘but what is important is whether Gilbert Lawrence was sane.’
‘As I was saying,’ Bridget said.
‘Apologies, we digressed.’
‘This is what I’ve found out. The person must be of “sound mind, memory, and understanding” when making a will. That person must understand the nature of the act and its effects, the extent of the property of which he/she is disposing and must be able to comprehend and appreciate the claims to which he/she ought to give effect.’
‘Is that it?’ Larry said. He had had an aunt who had died and had given her money to the church instead of her family. He remembered his mother, his aunt’s sister, saying over the dining room table that the woman was mad, but the money remained with the church.
‘There’s one more clause. It’s in legalese. “And must not be affected by any disorder of the mind that shall poison his affections, pervert his sense of right, or prevent the exercise of his natural faculties and that no insane delusion shall influence his will in disposing of this property and bring about a disposal of it which, if the mind had been sound, would not be made.”’
‘The précised version,’ Larry said.
‘If he had been declared sane and he had the necessary proofs at the signing of his will, then it’s valid. Remember, most people don’t get their sanity verified while they’re alive. It’s up to the beneficiaries, or those who believe they should receive something from the person’s estate, to contest it afterwards.’
‘Are the three certificates valid?’
‘They are.’
‘Did they have all the facts?’
‘How could they? Nobody knew about Dorothy Lawrence upstairs in the house.’
‘The will is contestable?’
‘Without a doubt. And if Gilbert Lawrence was so smart, he wouldn’t have left loopholes in the will.’
‘There was a clause at the end for those present to sign their agreement,’ Isaac said.
‘That may have been legally binding, but Ralph Lawrence didn’t sign.’
***
Ralph Lawrence made contact with his sister one day after his encounter with Gary Frost, a man who had an unenviable reputation as to how he called in his debts. Ralph had not wanted to use the man, regretted it now, but he had been down on his luck, and he needed out from the predicament he had found himself in. The first day he had made contact with Frost was the first time for a very long time that he felt trepidation about what he was doing.
Ralph Lawrence knew himself to be a supreme optimist, fully aware that not many ventures had turned out bad. Some, his sister and their father included, would have said that a failed business venture was indeed that, a failure. To Ralph, his definition was that if you lost money, it was. But he had not lost money; others had. On every venture he had been creaming off the top and squirrelling the money where no one else could get hold of it, including his ex-wives, bloodsuckers all of them. But he had chosen them for their youth and beauty, or for their money. The last woman had been smarter than most and had seen through him early on. She had found some of his bank accounts,
