Murder in Style by Veronica Heley Read Free Book Online Page B

in time you were doing well at the garage and in no need of extra funds, whereas Mrs Cocks knew that she and her sister were going to have to work very hard indeed to make The Magpie project work. This will was drawn up to protect her and her sister in case of accidents. There was also a hefty insurance policy, I believe, designed to cover them for all contingencies, payable also to her sister.’
    â€˜Yes, but … things have changed since then. My outgoings … she was happy to help me out when … if she’d made another will—’
    â€˜So far as I know, she didn’t do so.’
    â€˜I don’t believe it! I’ll sue! No court in the land would deny me, her husband—’
    Trixie pushed him aside. ‘Oh, Dad! Shut up! You’ve had your turn! She gave you everything you asked for over the years, didn’t she? She paid your debts and your holidays abroad and your cars. So now it’s my turn. You!’ She turned on the solicitor. ‘What did she leave me? She wouldn’t have cut
me
out!’
    The solicitor said, ‘You were a child of two years of age at the time she made her will. It never occurred to her at that time to leave you anything. I suppose she might well have made different provisions for her family if she had made another will. Unfortunately she died before she was able to do so.’
    Ray dabbed at his forehead. His colour was poor. ‘She must have made another will! Of course she did. She wouldn’t leave me in the lurch like this.’
    The solicitor said, ‘If she did make another will, it was not drawn up by me. This is the will that I drew up for Poppy Cocks, née Cordover, signed on the occasion of the incorporation of her business with her sister, who made an identical will in her favour. In the absence of any later will, this one will be submitted to probate.’
    All eyes turned to Juno, who seemed to be thinking of something else.
    S
he’s ill! She’s going to be sick …? Can’t they see how ill she is?
    Ray said, hoarsely, ‘Juno; tell them! Poppy never intended to leave me penniless.’
    Juno brought her mind back from wherever it was. She touched a trembling hand to her mouth. ‘We never thought of this. It just seemed … well, common sense. I never thought … from that day to this … we never dreamed that she’d die so soon …!’
    Her grief was real.
    So was his anger. ‘You’ll have to give me my share. Whatever she left should come to me! You aren’t going to refuse me my rights, are you?’
    Juno looked as if she were going to faint.
    Why doesn’t someone help her?
    The solicitor rose to his feet. ‘As I said before, unless you can produce a later will, this is the will which I, as sole executor, will be submitting for probate.’
    The man in the wheelchair broke into a soundless laugh, which developed into a coughing fit. Clemmie rummaged in a bag at the back of his chair. She produced the bottle of water and tried to hand it to him. He struck her hand away and the bottle fell to the floor. Instead of rescuing it, Clemmie turned back to her duties at the tea trolley.
    Trixie took centre stage, stepping forward to ally herself with her father. ‘Dad, I’ll help you challenge the will. I need money, too, remember.’
    Ray chucked his almost empty glass away in a gesture of frustration. It missed Trixie but hit the window behind her. And broke it.
    An indrawn breath. Everyone froze.
    The solicitor shut his briefcase and stood up. ‘If that is all, then I—’
    Ray whirled round on the senior Cordovers. ‘You knew! I see that you did! You should have made sure she updated her will. You knew how I was placed; that I needed to … I shall sue! The courts can’t refuse to give me, her husband—’
    â€˜What about me?’ wailed Trixie. ‘I need, I’ve promised, I have commitments