Lefty immediately agreed to do as Vera asked, for his usual fee.
The best thing about the raccoon was that he had almost no curiosity and rarely asked any questions about what Vera hired him to do. Vera was happy with this arrangement. “Meet me here tomorrow at six in the morning to let me know how it went,” she instructed. “I’ll bring your payment.”
The two creatures parted ways without any of their neighbors observing their conversation.
After concluding her business with the raccoon, Vera made another quick detour to pick up the letter from the attorney, Mr. Fallow, who had messaged earlier that he’d completed the work from the morning. She trotted back to his Mirror Lake office in the westering afternoon light, thinking that she hadn’t done this much footwork for a story (or anything) for quite a while. Luckily, the weather was still holding—it had been a lovely autumn day with bright sunshine and just a scattering of white puffy clouds.
When she got to the law office, she went right inside. Mr. Fallow motioned Vera into his office, where she took a seat across from him. He looked even more serious than usual.
“Here’s your letter, Vera,” he said, sliding an envelope across the desk. “If BW gives you any problems about it, you let me know.”
“Thanks. What do I owe you?”
“Well, this time perhaps you might offer services in kind.”
Vera’s eyes widened. “As a reporter?”
“Actually, as a disinterested professional who’s aware of the existence of ethical conundrums.” He looked rather distressed. “The fact is, I need to talk out a few ideas and just settling for a hypothetical won’t do it. And none of the folk around here can help me. They’re all too close to it….”
“Close to what?” she asked.
Mr. Fallow had been futzing with a fountain pen. Now he put it down in a decisive manner, having gathered his thoughts. “Edward has been to see me about the will again. That’s twice today, once before Dot’s outburst, and then about two hours ago.”
Vera asked, puzzled, “Isn’t it confidential?”
“Oh, not anymore. I filed all the paperwork at lunchtime, and the contents are now available for examination. Civic requirement, you see. The public is entitled to know what’s happening.”
“Then why is Edward concerned about it?”
“First, let me outline the will. The Springfield will states very clearly that the bulk of the inheritance will go to Dorothy and Edward, but only if both are living and married at the time of the distribution. Otherwise, if only Dot or Edward are alive, they’d get a nice-sized annuity, while the bulk of the estate would pass to the next generation, entrusted to myself and the board of directors at the mine until such time as a suitable heir appears. As of this moment, that’s probably going to be their daughter, Hazel Springfield, who’s at university overseas. But she would not inherit anything until she’s back home and married herself. The will is idiosyncratic and very particular. I could show you all the subclauses, but this is the gist of it.”
Mr. Fallow cleared his throat and went on, “Edward is deeply upset, because Dot apparently told the hospital staff that she will make a formal claim to have Edward declared dead, based on her…er, evidence.”
“She’d lose a lot of money herself if that’s the case, wouldn’t she?”
“Indeed, but she’s aware of that and doesn’t care. Edward, though, wants to make a counterclaim that Dot is mentally unsound, and therefore can’t submit any evidence on her own, because she would by definition not be a capable adult. He wants me to agree to have Dot committed to an institution until her mental health improves.”
“That’s rather a mess,” Vera said. She wasn’t sure why the lawyer was confiding in her, but she knew he’d get to the point soon.
“A mess doesn’t begin to describe it. The Springfields have been clients of mine for years, and there’s never been a hint of trouble. And now, in the space of a day, no one is talking to each other and the whole estate is in limbo. Edward really got frustrated when I told him that the settlement was going to take weeks at minimum…more likely months. His reaction, in fact, is why I’m going to take my next step.”
Vera was itching to get out her notebook. She sensed a juicy tidbit here. “What’s the next step?”
“Naturally, I do not believe Dorothy’s assertion that Edward Springfield was murdered,” Mr. Fallow said, in the precise tones he probably used in court. “Not least because he is very much alive and so upset that the accusation of murder is stirring up such trouble. But I must consider my responsibility to the Springfield family…not just my current clients, but past and future generations. There must be clarity here. I want witness statements from everyone involved, and depositions from those with the most to tell. Most importantly, I want to proceed with the knowledge that Edward Springfield is alive and well, without harming Dorothy’s dignity.”
“Ah.” There was the issue. Mr. Fallow didn’t want to hurt one of his clients for the sake of another. “How can I help?”
“I wonder…if you might be able to use some of your investigative abilities to learn exactly what Dorothy believes she saw, and why she made her accusation. I am very reluctant to involve a doctor at this point—there’s too much risk of bias or hastiness. But you are excellent at asking questions and finding things out that others miss.”
Vera smiled. “Way ahead of you, counselor. I’m already working on this due to my own curiosity. And I’ve put a couple things in motion.”
Mr. Fallow looked interested. “Really?”
“Tell you what. You’re not hiring me to do anything, and that way I’m not beholden to tell you everything I learn, which could be inconvenient later on. But if I learn something about exactly why Dot thinks Edward is dead, and been replaced by this…changeling, I’ll
