Stone Barrington: The Short Forever Part 10

Stone called Dino.

"How you doin'?" Dino asked cheerfully.

"I had a strange weekend."

"Tell me."

Stone told him.

"And she inherits the guy's business?"

"Apparently so. What do you think?"

"You know what I think," Dino chuckled, "but I have a more suspicious mind than you do."

"I think I prefer not being suspicious right now."

"I'll be willing to bet you hear from Sarah before the day's out."

"She's grieving," Stone said.

"Yeah, sure. I gotta go; anything else?"

"Nope."

"She's going to call you." Dino hung up.

Stone stood up and stretched, and the phone rang. He picked it up. "h.e.l.lo?"

"It's Sarah," she said.

15.

SHE SOUNDED PERFECTLY NORMAL-not depressed, not upset, just Sarah.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Perfectly all right, thank you."

"What was the outcome of the inquest?"

"Accidental death," she replied. "Had you expected another outcome?"

"No, I was sure that would be the verdict."

"Sir Bernard seemed to think I might have purposely gybed the yacht; is that what you think?"

"No, and I told him so."

"Did he say to you that I might have done it on purpose?"

"No, and I don't think he believes that-not from anything he said in our conversation."

"What about Lance? Does he believe I killed James?"

"Lance doesn't know anything about sailing; he didn't really understand what happened. I explained it to him, and he seemed satisfied."

She was silent for a moment. "There's something I have to tell you."

"All right."

She seemed to be having trouble getting it out. Finally she spoke. "I didn't intentionally cause James's death, but I'm not really very sorry he's dead. Does that sound awful?"

Stone avoided a direct answer. "Please tell me what you mean."

"I wouldn't have gone through with it-the marriage, I mean."

"Then why were you having an engagement party?"

"My parents pressed me, told me I was getting old. I'm thirty-two, for Christ's sake!"

"Maybe they just want grandchildren."

"Oh, they do, that's true. I liked James, but I was never in love with him. They kept saying what a perfect match we were, and I suppose it did look good on paper, at least. I guess we could have made it work, produced the grandchildren, bought a country house, given good dinner parties. But I just didn't want it."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Stone said, because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Have you seen this morning's papers?"

"No," Stone said. They had been stuck under his door when he returned to his suite, but he hadn't even looked at them yet.

"We're all over them, and the tabloids are hinting that I killed James for his money! Can you imagine?"

"Well, yes, considering . . ."

"We weren't even married; how could they say I killed him for his money?"

"Well, there is his will."

"What?"

"His will; he made a will. Surely you're aware of that."

"Aware of what? I don't know anything about a will."

"Apparently, James recently made a new will, making you the primary beneficiary."

There was a stunned silence at the other end of the line. "That's preposterous! Why would he do a thing like that before we're married?"

"I don't suppose we'll ever know," Stone replied. "But according to Sir Bernard Pickering, that's what he did."

"Why is it that everyone knows this but me?"

"I thought you did know it; I don't know how Pickering found out, unless he prepared the will."

"Pickering is a barrister; he wouldn't do wills; a solicitor would have to do that."

"Who is James's solicitor?"

"I have no idea . . . Wait a minute, yes I do; I was introduced to him at a party a couple of weeks ago."

"Do Pickering and the solicitor know each other?"

"I don't know; I suppose it's possible."

"Could they work out of the same law firm?"

"Solicitors and barristers are in different firms."

"Have you heard from the solicitor?"

"No."

"I expect you will shortly, if there's any truth to all this."

"Tell me exactly what Pickering told you."

"He said you were now the largest independent importer of wines in Britain and that you now owned a lot of wine shops and pubs."

"Hold on a minute; someone is rapping on my door." She put the phone down and returned after a moment. "It's a letter from James's solicitor," she said. "Hand delivered."

"What does it say?"

"I haven't opened it."

"Open it."

"Oh, Stone, this is so crazy."

"Open the letter and read it to me." He heard the ripping and rustle of paper.

" 'Dear blah, blah, blah, condolences, etcetera. It is my duty to inform you that, shortly before his death, Mr. Cutler made a will, in which you are an important beneficiary. I would be grateful if you would call at this office at your convenience so that we may discuss this matter. Yours very sincerely.' It says 'important beneficiary.' That doesn't sound like I inherit everything."

"Maybe it's British understatement."

"Oh, G.o.d, I can't deal with this now; I have to arrange a funeral for James in London; he didn't have any family to speak of-both his parents are dead, and he had no brothers or sisters, so it all falls to me."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Stone, will you go and see this solicitor and find out about this?"

"I think it might be better if you had your own solicitor go."

"I don't have one, and I hate Daddy's. Just go and talk to him; I'll tell him you're coming."

"All right. Is there anything else?"

"Let me give you his phone number and address."

Stone wrote it all down, and Sarah's London number as well.

"I'm coming up to London tomorrow, and I'll call you then."

"All right. I'll be around here. Oh, let me give you a portable phone number, too." Stone retrieved the phone from its charging cradle and read off the number, which was taped to the telephone.

"I'll call you tomorrow," she said, "and I'll call the solicitor now."

"All right; tell him I'll wait to hear from him." Stone hung up and went to retrieve the papers. The story was on the inside pages of both the Times and the Independent, and it was brief in each case. It didn't seem out of the ordinary to Stone. The phone rang. The solicitor, he thought. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Mr. Barrington, it's Ted Cricket; Bobby Jones and I would like to come and see you, if that's all right."

"Yes, fine. When's good for you?"

"How about six o'clock this evening at your hotel?"

"That's good for me. I'll see you both at six in the same place we met the first time."

"Good, sir." He hung up.

Stone hung up, too, and the phone rang immediately. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Is that Mr. Barrington?"

"Yes."

"My name is Julian Wainwright; I am solicitor for the estate of James Cutler."

"Oh, yes, Sarah Buckminster said you'd call."

"Miss Buckminster tells me you'll be representing her in the matter of the Cutler estate. I'm a bit confused; you're an American, are you?"

"That's right, but I'm not representing her as an attorney, only as a friend. Sarah is very busy with making funeral arrangements at the moment, and she asked me to see you about the letter you sent her today."