The Best Crime Stories Ever Told by Dorothy L. Sayers Read Free Book Online

widow left the villa next day, discharging all the servants except her maid, with whom she went to the Hotel Cavour. There, as I gathered, she seldom left her rooms. She was undoubtedly quite overwhelmed by what had happened, though she seems never to have lost her grip on herself. Her brother-in-law, the present peer, arrived on the 15th. He had only just returned from Canada.” Selby raised his finger and repeated, “From Canada, you will remember. He had gone out to get ideas about the emigration prospect.”
    I understood. He remained at the hotel, meaning to accompany her home, when she should feel equal to the journey. It was not until the 18th that we received a long telegram from her, asking if we could send someone representing the firm to her at Taormina; she stated that she wished to discuss business matters, but did not yet feel able to travel. You understand that Lady Aviemore, who already possessed considerable means of her own, came into a large income under her husband’s will. She was a client who could afford to indulge her whims.
    “I went out to Taormina. On my arrival Lady Aviemore saw me and told me quite calmly that she was acquainted with the provisions of her late husband’s will, and that she now wished to make her own. I took her instructions and prepared the will. The next day I and the British Consul witnessed her signature. You may remember, Trent, that when the provisions of that will became public after her death, they attracted a good deal of attention. You don’t remember? Well, to put it simply, she left two thousand pounds to her brother, Knut Wergeland, of Myklebostad, in Norway, and fifty to her maid, Maria Krogh, also a Norwegian, who had been with her some years. The whole of the rest of her property she left to her brother-in-law unconditionally. That surprised me, because he had disapproved bitterly of the marriage, and he hadn’t concealed his opinion. But she said to me that she could think of nobody who would do so much good with her money as her brother-in-law. From that point of view she was justified. Lord Aviemore is said to spend most of his income in charitable work. Anyhow, she made him her heir.”
    “And what did he say to it?”
    Selby coughed. “There is no evidence that he knew anything about it before her death. No evidence,” he repeated, slowly. “But now let me get on with my story. Lady Aviemore asked me to remain to transact business for her until she should leave Taormina. This she did at last on March 30th, accompanied by Lord Aviemore, myself, and her maid. To shorten the railway journey, as she told us, she planned to go by boat first to Brindisi, then to Venice, and from Venice home by rail. The boats from Brindisi to Venice all go in the day-time, except once a week, when a boat from Corfu arrives in the evening, and goes on about eleven. It happened we could get across from Taormina in time to catch that boat, and Lady Aviemore decided to go by it. We had a few hours in Brindisi, dined there, and about ten o’clock went on board. Lady Aviemore complained of a headache. She went at once to her cabin, which was a deck-cabin, asking me to send someone to collect her ticket at once, as she wanted to sleep as soon as possible, and not to be awakened again. That was done. Shortly before the boat left the maid came to me and told me her mistress was then lying down, and had said she wished to be called at half-past seven in the morning. The maid then went to her own cabin in the second class. Soon after we were out of the harbour I turned in myself. At that time Lord Aviemore was still up. He was leaning over the rail on the promenade deck, upon which Lady Aviemore’s cabin opened, and at some distance from the cabin. His own was on the other side of the same deck. I think only two or three other people still remained on the deck, looking out over the sea. It was beginning to blow. I thought we should very likely have some bad weather in an hour or