by Millie Mack
She smiled. “Yes, miss, I come from Ireland. Mrs. Cavanaugh is my aunt and she’s been with the family for years. She started as a maid, too, but now she’s in charge of the whole house.” Mary said these words with a great deal of pride. “Mrs. Faraday is sponsoring me. I help with the chores around the house, and in return I have a place to stay, plus Mrs. Faraday pays for my college tuition.”
“That’s wonderful. Good luck with your studies and thanks for the coffee.”
“Thank you, miss.” As Mary left, Carrie found herself thinking about Mrs. Faraday. Here again was Mrs. Faraday doing something nice for another person. Mrs. Faraday, whom Carrie always thought of as cold, was sponsoring Mary in this country and providing for her education.
Carrie took a quick shower and then sat down wrapped in her robe to savor Mary’s coffee and think. She initially thought she might be jumping to conclusions that Jamie’s death was murder, but his letter validated that she was on the right track. She would have to stay alert and be careful as she followed in Jamie’s shoes. She finished her first cup of coffee and thought about a second, but then decided, nothing is going to be accomplished with me sitting here drinking coffee. I wonder what you wear to the reading of a will.
***
Two hours later, Carrie knew she made the right decision about what to wear. Her smoke blue dress with her navy blazer blended in nicely with Mrs. Faraday’s charcoal suit and the other assortment of dark suits worn by the men. Only Suzanne showed up in a brightly colored flowered dress, with little-girl lace trim on the collar and sleeves.
The first order of business was to see how Simpson was feeling. Carrie thought he looked rather intriguing, with the white bandage cocked over his left eye.
“Really, folks, I’m fine. These things happen all the time when you live in a city.” He seemed embarrassed by all the attention. “Perhaps if you could all find seats…”
Carrie took a seat at the back of the room and left the chairs closest to Simpson’s desk for the family. Joel started to take the chair next to Carrie, when Charles slipped in next to her.
“I’m sorry, Joel, did you want to sit here?” Charles asked innocently.
“No, no, it’s fine. I’ll sit next to Stone,” Joel responded.
Carrie turned to look at Charles, but he never turned his head to meet her eyes. Nothing was said between them, and they both sat silently as the proceedings started.
Carrie was surprised by the lack of anticipation from the group because she was certainly experiencing a sense of excitement. She could feel her rapid heartbeat and there was an empty feeling in her stomach.
“It looks like everyone is here, so let’s get started.” Simpson took his place behind his massive mahogany desk, opened his center drawer, and broke the seal on an oversized blue envelope. He carefully unfolded the legal-size paper and began to read. “I, James Wesley Faraday, being of sound mind and body…”
Sometimes the strangest thoughts would come to Carrie at the oddest moments. She realized she never knew Jamie’s middle name was Wesley. She also knew his classmates at college would have teased him mercilessly if they had known this piece of information. She focused back on Simpson’s reading.
The first bequests were items Carrie classified as mementos rather than items of real value. Jamie left his boxes of personal photos and a Scottish tea set of Emma’s to his mother, a chess set and watch to his brother, his beer stein collection to Joel, several first-edition books to Stone and a small bequest to Mrs. Cavanaugh. Then Simpson proceeded to the more substantial bequests. Suzanne was left a sum of fifty thousand dollars, with a thank you from Jamie “for giving up her career to be my companion.” Carrie thought this was a generous sum of money, but Suzanne showed no emotion. Simpson continued the bequests by announcing that all of Jamie’s remaining assets, including life insurance, investments, any royalties from his writings, plus Jamie’s share of his father’s estate, were left to Christopher. Charles was named as guardian of Christopher and his newfound wealth.
“I name my brother, Charles, as administrator of Christopher’s money, until he reaches the age of twenty-five. I know Charles would accept this duty without being asked, but I wanted to make my wishes clear. I want someone who will invest his funds wisely and help Christopher make the right decisions. And, Christopher, be sure to seek Uncles Charles’s help, especially when you don’t think you need it. He will be a dependable and valuable resource for you.”
Carrie glanced briefly at Charles and sensed he was pleased. He reached out and placed a hand on the shoulder of Christopher, who was sitting in front of him.
“My last bequest goes to a person I’ve always considered to be one of my very best friends. We may not have been as close in recent years, but I know there isn’t anyone I would trust more with this final bequest. To Carrie Kingsford, I leave my entire collection of past and present work. I ask that she be given complete access to my studio and all of my writings, papers, and photos. Upon review and cataloging of these works, I know Carrie will see the appropriate parties receive them.”
Carrie sat stunned as she heard an intake of breath from several of the listeners seated around her. She felt a cold chill pass through her body. She knew exactly what Jamie was doing. He was giving her access to the same story materials that may have led to his death. Her thoughts were interrupted as Suzanne jumped to her feet.
“This certainly doesn’t make any sense. Why would an award-winning writer leave his works to a picture-taker? After all, I’m the one who traveled and worked with him. If anyone should catalog his work, it’s me.”
“Suzanne, do sit down,” Charles demanded.
Suzanne, realizing her reaction may have been a bit strong, looked around the room and muttered, “You have to admit it really doesn’t make sense.”
After she sat down, the room remained quiet for what seemed to Carrie like an eternity. Then, finally, Joel came to Carrie’s rescue.
“I, for one, am delighted. This means you will be staying with us for the near future and I plan on taking advantage of your extended stay. In fact, let me start right now. Carrie, will you join me for lunch?”
Charles quickly piped in, “Carrie should really return with the family. There are some things we probably need to discuss.”
Carrie ignored Charles’s attempt to regiment her schedule and answered, “How thoughtful of you, Joel. Thank you, I’ll be happy to have lunch with you. However, I need to spend a few minutes with Mr. Simpson. Tell me where you want to meet for lunch and I’ll join you shortly.”
Charles stood by helplessly as Joel took a business card from his wallet. “Why not come to my office? There’s a garage across the street for parking, and then we can walk to one of the nearby restaurants.”
“Great, I’ll see you around twelve-thirty?”
“I’ll be waiting.” Joel quickly excused himself and left the room.
Then she turned to Charles and very calmly said, “I’m sure we do need to discuss some items. However, I think it will wait until after lunch, don’t you?”
Charles remained silent. He didn’t answer her rebuke. The family left Simpson’s office rather quickly, with Suzanne leading the way.
Jonathan Stone came and took Carrie’s hand. “Carrie, I know that was an awkward moment for you when Suzanne expressed her thoughtless opinion. But I think Jamie’s choice was an excellent one. If I can do anything to help, I hope you will call me. I approved or edited most of Jamie’s story ideas over the years, so I may be of some help in your sorting. I was thinking there may be additional stories that would be suitable for publishing that I would love to see.” Stone took a business card from his billfold and handed it to Carrie. “I know you probably think of me as part of the family, but after so many years as an editor, most people find me quite objective.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate your words, especially today.”
Jonathan Stone left the office, leaving Hugh Simpson and Carrie alone to discuss the terms
of Jamie’s will.
10
Carrie spent the next twenty minutes reviewing the requirements of her responsibilities with Simpson. She was concerned about managing Jamie’s files and records from inside the Faraday home. However, Simpson suggested it might make sense to do the preliminary work right in Jamie’s studio. He was sure a great many materials could be thrown out or packed for distribution to the appropriate parties rather quickly. Then she could ship the remaining materials to a more convenient location of her choice. Simpson assured her she had complete authority to destroy materials, pack up files, give items away, and move the remaining work anywhere she wanted. Carrie liked Simpson’s suggestion for handling the work.
She was getting ready to leave when she decided to take advantage of the time she had alone with him. “Mr. Simpson, what’s your take on Jamie’s death? A simple case of someone losing his balance and falling off a pier, or is there something more sinister out there?”
Simpson leaned back in his chair. He thought for a moment and then looked directly into Carrie’s eyes. “One could easily take the evidence we have about James’s death and formulate a case to support either theory. But, of course, that doesn’t answer your question, does it?” He paused a moment longer, as if he was determining whether he could trust her with his insights. “Although I rarely had the opportunity to talk with him, I found James quite bright and extremely astute. Regardless of the evidence, I don’t believe James would have asked you to question his death if he hadn’t believed he was in danger. That’s what he asked you to do in the letter, correct? To question his death if the circumstances were out of the ordinary?”
Carrie also hesitated for a moment, not really knowing whom in this lot of friends and family she could trust. She liked Simpson, and Jamie must have trusted him, too. After all, he chose Simpson to draft his will and to leave her letter with him. She decided to tell Simpson the truth. “Yes, that’s what he asked me to do.”
“In that case, I would simply advise you to be extremely careful. There must be danger out there. James obviously thought you could handle yourself or he wouldn’t have asked you to help. But then I always thought James could handle himself and look what happened to him.”
“Mr. Simpson, what about the mugging last night? Do you think it was related to this case?”
Simpson did not hesitate with his answer. “Oh, yes, it’s related.” Simpson didn’t miss the surprised look on Carrie’s face. “I see you’re surprised at the quickness of my response. I haven’t told anyone this, including the police. The muggers came up behind me and clunked me on the head.”
“There was more than one mugger.” Something was nagging at Carrie based on what Simpson described, but she couldn’t quite place what it was.
“Yes there were definitely two of them,” answered Simpson.
Simpson touched the bandage on his forehead. “I pretended to be out cold, but I heard them say they were looking for the letter.”
“Mr. Simpson, I’m so sorry I was the cause of that bump on your head…” Carrie’s sentence trailed off.
“You must not think that way. Things have a way of working out for the best. You still have the letter and I’m fine. But I do want you to be extremely careful. Those men frightened me.” Simpson reached into his desk and took out a card. “Let me give you my business card. I’ll put my home number on the back.” He uncapped his fountain pen and wrote the number. “Keep the card with you and know that you can call me any time, day or night.”
Carrie accepted the card. “I appreciate this. I feel better knowing there’s someone I can call.”
“I’ve one more suggestion for you.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“I would suggest that you make notes of some sort. Then I suggest that you send your notes to someone for safekeeping. If you want to send your notes here, I promise not to open the envelopes. As you said, James left us with no clues. We have no idea what he was doing. If something unexpected…” He trailed off.
“You mean if something unexpected happens to me? At least you’ll know what I was doing.”
“Let’s not go there. Let’s assume you will have the best of luck in bringing this matter to a conclusion.”
“That’s a good suggestion.” Carrie didn’t mention that she had already mailed Jamie’s letter to her parents for safekeeping. “Well, thank you for your help and honesty. And I’m really am sorry about last night.”
“Don’t give it any more thought.” Simpson stood and shook hands with Carrie.
11
Carrie left Simpson’s office with several business cards, a key to Jamie’s studio, and more questions than answers. Would Jamie’s files help her solve his death? What if the materials led her down the same trail as Jamie? Would she be in the same danger? Had Simpson made the same connection she made that only someone from the wake would have known he had Jamie’s letter? These questions occupied her mind during the twenty minutes it took her to travel from Simpson’s office to meet Joel for lunch.
Carrie took Joel’s suggestion and parked in the garage across from his office. When she arrived at his office, Joel was waiting for her, and within minutes they were seated at a window table at the Harbor Net Restaurant overlooking the harbor waters of TriCity. It was obvious Joel was a regular at the restaurant when both the management and staff acknowledged him by name. It was a beautiful and peaceful setting, and as they sipped a chilled glass of white Zinfandel, it seemed only natural to reminisce.
“Do you remember the editorial we wrote about the unnamed professor who showed up late for class?” Joel asked.
“Oh, yes, I remember. I especially remember the dozen professors who came forward and were indignant that our editorial singled them out.” She laughed out loud.
“Then there was the review we wrote of that awful first play by the theater group,” Joel said. “The actors wouldn’t speak to us, and the drama department asked the entire newspaper staff not to attend any plays for the rest of the year.”
“But looking back, I must say our reviewer was honest. It was the worst play, even to this day, I’ve ever seen.”
There was silence while they enjoyed the moment, and then Joel asked, “You did so much writing in school, how come you ended up as a photographer? We all thought you would be the next Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist or an editor for a top publication.”
“Sheer opportunity and the need to make a living. I was trying to get a newspaper job with my state college degree, but I was up against the Jamies of the world, with master’s degrees from top journalism schools. I was interviewing for a writing job and had my camera equipment with me. I was being turned down for the millionth time for the writing job when a camera emergency arose. The editor saw my camera, asked if I knew how to use it, and off I went on my first assignment. After the paper saw my photos, I was hired, and the next thing I knew, I was making my living as a photographer. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Lately, I’ve had several opportunities to write copy to go along with my pictures, and that’s been nice, plus I’m currently writing a mystery book that I hope to publish someday.”
“Then Jamie made a good choice. He picked a mystery writer to solve a real-life mystery.”
Carrie laughed. “That sounds good, but I’m quite sure Jamie never knew I was writing a mystery.”
The waiter arrived with their chicken Caesar salads and a loaf of warm bread with whipped butter. Joel reached for the wine to refill their glasses, but caught his finger in the wire wine stand.
“Ouch, that hurt. I’ve torn my nail.”
“I’ve a nail file here in my bag,” Carrie offered. “Let me see if I can find it.”
“No need, I’ve a handy little tool that will fix this dilemma.” Joel pulled out a silver pocketknife with all the fancy attachments and clipped the broken nail.
“That’s quite a fancy version of that knife. May I see?” Carrie held out her hand.
Joel
handed Carrie the knife, and she found it was even heavier than it appeared. It must be solid silver. She turned it over in the palm of her hand and saw the initials J.W. engraved on one side.
“Very nice,” she said as she handed it back to Joel.
“Let me just say, although the circumstances are not the best, I’m glad you’re here. I toast to a good meal, good memories, and you.” Joel raised his glass, and they touched their glasses together.
“Thanks, Joel, and thanks for lunch. It’s a nice break from all the other issues.”
Carrie meant what she said. She was glad for lunch away from the Faradays. She enjoyed the food, the company, and the small talk about the past.
Joel reached over and touched her hand gently, held it for a moment, and then said, “Tell me about the mystery book you’re writing.”
“It’s more of a thriller, but it’s not at the top of my priority list. Right now the only mystery I’m working on is this little problem Jamie has left for me.” Carrie wanted to get to the subject of Jamie. “Is Simpson a good lawyer?”
A small grin formed at the corner of Joel’s mouth as he answered Carrie’s question. “Simpson is a very good lawyer, although he’s from that old-school mentality we talked about earlier. He comes from a good family, has impeccable law credentials, and a client list that includes the best families in Tri-County. He is also totally dedicated to the Faradays and has been their lawyer for as long as I can remember. That’s why if you want someone outside the family to help you with your work, please remember I’m here for you.”
“Thanks. In fact, that’s one of the reasons I decided to have lunch with you. I need a fresh approach to the situation. What’s your take on Simpson being mugged?”
“Whoa, easy does it. What happened to our quiet lunch?”
Before Carrie could answer, their lunch was interrupted by the sound of a boat horn warning people on the dock that a large fishing boat was approaching. After watching the boat slowly ease into its slip, Carrie returned to the conversation. “It’s all right, Joel. I know that one of the reasons for the lunch is to discuss Jamie’s letter. I’m willing to trade a nice lunch in a beautiful location for some serious talk.”