And Thereby Hangs a Tale Read online

  “Of course,” said Lynn, who had not anticipated this problem and realized she would need a little time to find a way round it. “Shall we say next Thursday afternoon at five o’clock, Mr. Kullick?”

  The lawyer checked his diary, crossed something out, and entered the name Sommerfield in its place. Lynn rose from her chair.

  “I see that this will was originally drawn up by Haskins, Haskins and Purbright,” said Kullick.

  “That is correct, Mr. Kullick,” Lynn said just before she reached the door. She turned back and smiled sweetly. “Mr. Sommerfield felt that Mr. Haskins’s charges had become . . . exorbitant, I think was the word he used.” She opened the door. “I do hope you don’t make the same mistake, Mr. Kullick, as we may be in need of your services at some time in the future.” She closed the door quietly behind her.

  By four o’clock the following Thursday, Lynn felt confident that she had addressed all the problems posed by Mr. Kullick’s demands and that everything was in place. She knew if she made the slightest mistake she would have wasted almost a year of her life, and all she would have to show for it would be a cane with a silver handle and a photograph of a young man at Princeton whom she didn’t particularly like.

  As she and Arthur sat and watched yet another episode in the life of Sergeant Bilko, Lynn went over the timing in her mind, trying to think of anything that might crop up at the last moment and derail her. Mr. Kullick would need to be on time if her plan was to work. She checked her watch every few minutes.

  When the show finally came to an end, with Bilko somehow managing to outsmart Colonel John T. Hall once again, Lynn turned off the television, poured Arthur a generous measure of whiskey, and handed him a Havana cigar.

  “What have I done to deserve this?” he asked, patting her on the bottom.

  “Someone’s coming to see you, Arthur, so you mustn’t fall asleep.”

  “Who?” demanded Arthur, but not before he’d taken a sip of his whiskey.

  “A Mr. Kullick. He’s one of Mr. Haskins’s associates.”

  “What does he want?” he asked as Lynn lit a match and held it up to the cigar.

  “He’s bringing over the latest version of your will, so you can sign it. Then you won’t have to bother about it again.”

  “Has he included my bequests to you this time?”

  “He assured me that your wishes would be carried out to the letter, but he needed them confirmed in person,” said Lynn as the doorbell rang.

  “Good,” said Arthur, taking another swig of whiskey before Lynn plumped up his pillows and helped him to sit up.

  Moments later there was a gentle knock on the bedroom door and a maid entered, accompanied by Mr. Kullick. Arthur peered intently at the intruder through a cloud of smoke.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Sommerfield,” said the lawyer as he walked toward the bed. He had intended to shake hands with the old man, but when he saw the look of disdain on his face, he decided against it. “My name is Kullick, sir,” he said, remaining at the foot of the bed.

  “I know,” said Arthur. “And you’ve come about my will.”

  “Yes, sir, I have, and—”

  “And have you remembered to include the bequests for my nurse this time?”

  “Yes, he has, Arthur,” interrupted Lynn. “I told you all about it after I’d returned from visiting Mr. Kullick last week.”

  “Ah, yes, I remember,” said Arthur, draining his glass.

  “You’ve given me everything—” she paused “—that I asked for.”

  “Everything?” said Arthur.

  “Yes,” she said, “which is so much more than I deserve. But if you want to change your mind . . .” she added as she refilled his glass.

  “No, no, you’ve more than earned it.”

  “Thank you, Arthur,” she said, taking him by the hand.

  “Let’s get on with it,” said the old man wearily, turning his attention back to Kullick.

  “Would you like me to take you through the will clause by clause, sir?”

  “Certainly not. Haskins took long enough doing that last time.”

  “As you wish, sir. Then all that remains to be done is for you to sign the document. But, as I explained to Ms. Beattie, that will require a witness.”

  “I’m sure Mr. Sommerfield’s personal maid will be happy to act as witness,” said Lynn as the front doorbell rang again.

  “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” said Kullick.

  “But why not?” demanded Lynn, who had already given Paula twenty dollars to carry out the task.

  “Because she’s a beneficiary of the will,” said Kullick, “and therefore ineligible to be a witness.”

  “She is indeed,” said Arthur. Turning to Lynn he explained, “I’ve left her the silver-plated dinner service.” He leaned across and whispered, “But I can assure you, my dear, that the silver cane is, like you, sterling.”

  Lynn smiled as she desperately tried to think who could take Paula’s place. Her first thought was the chauffeur, but then she remembered that he was also a beneficiary—Arthur’s ancient car. She didn’t want to risk going through the whole process again, but she couldn’t think of anyone suitable to take the maid’s place at such short notice.

  “Could you come back this time tomorrow?” she asked, trying to remain calm. “By then I’m sure—” She was interrupted by a knock on the door and Dr. Grove strode into the room.

  “How are you, Arthur?” he asked.

  “Not too bad,” said Arthur. “I’d be even better if you felt able to witness my signature. Or is Grove also a beneficiary of my will?” he asked Kullick.

  “Certainly not,” said Dr. Grove before the lawyer could speak. “It’s against company policy for any employee of Jackson Memorial to benefit from a bequest left by a patient.”

  “Good, then you can earn your fee for a change, Grove. That is, assuming Kullick agrees you’re acceptable.”

  “Eminently so, Mr. Sommerfield,” said Kullick as he opened his briefcase and extracted three thick documents. He slowly turned the pages, pointing to the small pencil crosses at the bottom of each page indicating where both signatures should be placed.

  Although Lynn had taken a step back so as not to appear too involved in the process, her heartbeat didn’t return to normal until the last page of all three copies had been signed and witnessed.

  Once the ceremony had been completed, Kullick gathered up the documents, placed one copy in his briefcase and handed the other two to Mr. Sommerfield, who waved them away, so Lynn placed them in the drawer by his bed.

  “I’ll take my leave, sir,” said Kullick, still not confident enough to shake hands with his latest client.

  “Give Haskins my best wishes,” said Arthur as he screwed the top back on his fountain pen.

  “But I no longer work for—”

  “Just be sure to tell Mr. Haskins when you next see him,” Lynn said quickly, “that he obviously didn’t fully appreciate Mr. Sommerfield’s wishes when it came to the very generous bequest he had in mind for me. But at the same time, do assure him I am not someone who bears grudges.”

  Dr. Grove frowned, but said nothing.

  “Very magnanimous of you in the circumstances, my dear,” said Arthur.

  “When I next see him,” Kullick repeated. Then he added, “I feel it’s my duty to point out to you, Mr. Sommerfield, that your children may feel they are entitled to—”

  “Not you as well, Kullick. When will you all accept that I’ve made my decision, and nothing you can say will change my mind? Now please leave us.”

  “As you wish, sir,” said Kullick, stepping back as Dr. Grove stuck a thermometer into his patient’s mouth.

  Lynn accompanied the lawyer to the door. “Thank you, Mr. Kullick, the maid will show you out.”

  Kullick left without another word and after Lynn had closed the door behind him she returned to Arthur’s bedside where Dr. Grove was studying the thermometer.

  “Your temperatur