Murder in Style by Veronica Heley Read Free Book Online

but there was a drinks cabinet open at the side so she located the whisky bottle and did as he asked.
    Ray was talking, partly to himself and partly to his friend the businessman, saying how much he was going to miss his darling wife. The businessman sat on his plump behind, a solid, almost menacing, presence. He was listening to Ray but his small, blackcurrant eyes roamed the room, lingering on Trixie, who was apparently unaware of him. Or was she? If he were a friend of the family then surely she should be making an effort to talk to him? The businessman consulted his watch. Time was money, et cetera. He took four sandwiches, which disappeared into his fat-lipped little mouth, leaving not a crumb behind.
    Clemmie, dry-eyed, offered coffee or tea to everyone but Ray. Wise child.
    Somewhere a clock chimed the hour, and Ray held up his glass. ‘A toast! To my darling Poppy!’
    Everyone drank, from glass, coffee or teacup … or mimed drinking from empty cups if they had nothing left to drink.
    Ellie slid on to a high-backed chair in the shadow of the drinks cabinet, hoping no one would notice her. Which they didn’t. From this vantage point she surveyed the room. Yes, it was clean and tidy, but already there was evidence that the mistress of the house had departed; a picture hung crookedly, there was a dead plant in a pot, a film of dust on the glass of the coffee tables and an untidy stack of old newspapers and magazines which ought to have been put in the recycling bin.
    From where she sat, Ellie could see everything without being seen. She saw Ray take his daughter Trixie’s elbow and say, ‘Get that fellow of yours out of here. Family only for the reading of the will.’
    Trixie smiled sweetly. ‘He’s my future. He stays.’
    Ray reddened. He turned on Celine. ‘Well, you’re not family!’
    Juno started. She said, in a tired voice, ‘Oh, let it go, Ray. Hasn’t Celine been part of our lives for years? Poppy would have wanted her to be here and I’d like her to stay.’
    Ray didn’t bother to ask the businessman to leave, but dragged a chair forward and seated himself, gesturing to the solicitor to proceed. ‘So, let’s have the good news, then!’
    The grey man produced a folder tied up with pink tape, and opened it. ‘This is the last will and testament …’
    Ellie tuned him out. She knew what was coming. Who else knew? She scanned faces. The senior Cordovers knew but were giving nothing away.
    Juno knew, but she seemed to have removed herself from the scene. Once again Ellie wondered if Juno were sick. She seemed uninvolved. Ellie wasn’t even sure Juno was listening. Did she not know, or did she not care that this was the only will Poppy had ever made? Did she not realize everything came to her?
    â€˜I appoint as executor …’ So Poppy had appointed the solicitor as sole executor? Not a bad decision. And the date was … ‘On the twelfth day of May 1999—’
    â€˜What!’ Ray, laughing. ‘All that time ago? That can’t be right!’
    â€˜On the occasion of the signing of the agreement for the partnership to be known as The Magpie—’
    â€˜You mean, she made this will when they first started up in business?’
    The solicitor gave a stately nod. ‘When the partnership was formed and the business was put on a formal footing, yes. Two years after they first started The Magpie. When two people enter into a partnership, it is common practice for them to make wills in one another’s favour, so that the business may proceed if one partner is, er, lost.’
    â€˜You mean, she left the shop to her sister?’
    â€˜That is correct. Together with everything else she might possess at the time of her death. In the event of Juno predeceasing Poppy, then everything would have gone to Gerald Cordover, her father.’
    Ray wasn’t worried yet. He even looked slightly