A Purse to Die For

by Melodie Campbell; Cynthia St-Pierre

  Macho nodded.

  She cried. And after a while, she said, "I 'm going to take a peek at what 's going on downstairs. Want to come?"

  Chapter 4

  It was hot in the dining room. Gina rushed in a little late and discreetly slid into the single unoccupied antique chair at the far side of the huge oval table. She mouthed "hi " at Becki beside her, who smiled back. Sun poured in from the bay window behind her. The large green dining room, normally so cold, seemed stifling today.

  Across the table and down toward the head of it, she could see Tony and Ian, listening intently. The lawyer, a well-fed man with glasses and receding grey hair , sat in the one remaining dining -room chair with arms. The back of his head reflected in the mirror that served as the back wall of Grandma 's enormous china cabinet. The contents within the hutch were a young girl 's treasure trove. Many times as a child, Gina had stared at the colourful Depression glass, the painted china tea cups and the figurines, wishing she could take them out and…

  Oh, dear. The lawyer paused in his talk and was looking at her. He frowned. Gina felt herself blush. The man then cleared his throat, continued reading.

  "'To my dear goddaughter, Rebekkah, I leave my Piaget diamond watch to remember me by and two hundred thousand dollars with which to travel the world. We spent many a pleasant hour dreaming about places to visit. Now I want you to do it.'"

  Becki made a choking-sob sound. Gina smiled inwardly with satisfaction. It was so good that Grandma had thought to give Becki these things. Gina nearly reached for her hand and then stopped herself, realizing it might cause Becki to react even more emotionally. Instead, she fixed her eyes on the painting that graced the opposite wall. Definitely an old-world hunting scene with mounted riders and dogs. As a kid that picture had both haunted and fascinated her. She 'd always been glad the fox was offstage.

  The lawyer looked up once more.

  "I have been left strict instructions to read the next bit verbatim: 'I am a proud woman, one who values dignity. I admit to some disappointment regarding my own offspring. I expect even now they are sparring over china and silver, items of paltry value that can make no difference to their standard of living. I have seen other families ripped apart by human vultures fighting over remains of little value. It disgusts me, but I fear it to be probable among my own children and their spouses , and I won 't have it. For this reason, I have elected to leave the bulk of my estate to the next generation.'"

  There was a collective gasp.

  "What the hell—" Jerry yelled from down the table.

  The lawyer ignored this and continued. "'To my dear granddaughter, Nellie, I leave you this house and all the contents, with the exception of the aforementioned items. These will be left in trust and deeded to you upon your 18th birthday. I leave you an additional one million dollars in trust, which you will also receive on your 18th birthday. It is my express wish you will use this for your education and for maintenance of this house, which I hope you will continue to inhabit. I trust this will allow your parents to live in the manner to which they have become accustomed.'"

  Gina giggled—she couldn't help herself.

  The lawyer grunted and looked up fiercely. "'To my remaining three adult grandchildren, Ian, Tony and Gina, I leave the remainder of my estate to be divided equally.'" The lawyer paused. "She leaves a note concerning each of you , which she has requested I read aloud. 'Ian, I expect you will squander your entire inheritance on decadent living. I trust you will have the decency to practice any sordid behaviour discreetly.'"

  Ian's gasp was audible.

  The lawyer continued. "'Tony, although you are not of my blood, I feel you are the grandchild most like me in many ways , and thus I include you as an equal legatee. Practice your architectural design talent well and make our name proud.'"

  Gina felt the shocked silence around the room. What did it mean? She looked at Tony, who seemed equally puzzled. He leaned forward.

  "What does she mean, 'not of my blood '?"

  The lawyer took off his glasses. "You 're adopted. Surely you knew."

  "No, " Tony said. "I didn 't know." He looked absolutely stunned.

  "Well, that explains the blue eyes, " Jerry said.

  "What on earth do you mean?" Linda asked, fumbling with a compact.

  "No one has had blue eyes in this family for three generations. And Mandy has brown eyes too. So it 's scientifically improbable. Blue eyes are recessive."

  Linda snapped the compact shut and turned to scold him. "If you knew that all these years, why didn 't you say something?"

  Jerry shrugged. "I always figured Mandy had an affair."

  Tony was out of his chair in an instant. "Why, you—"

  Ian grabbed him by the arm. "Hold on there, mate. Keep it cool."

  Gina rose to her feet. "But…but that means you 're not my cousin."

  There was stunned silence in the room. Gina glanced around, stricken. This had come out all wrong. Aunt Linda looked horrified. Ian 's mouth was open and Tony—well, Tony was staring straight at her.

  "I mean, " Gina blurted, "of course you 're my cousin, you 'll always be my cousin, but we 're not…" She couldn 't find the word. The room grew even hotter.

  Tony looked odd. "No, I guess we 're not."

  Gina sat down with a plop. Her face burned.

  "Young lady, children who are legally adopted have all the rights of natural children in this country, " the lawyer said sternly. "Tony has as much right to this inheritance as you do."

  "Oh, no!" Gina cried. "I didn 't mean—" She stopped, aghast.

  "What she means is, " Tony leapt to the rescue, "we 're all a bit shocked about this unexpected turn of events and need some time to take it in. But by all means, go on with the reading."

  The lawyer reached for his glasses and cleared his throat. "To my beloved granddaughter, Gina, I wish a lifetime of happiness. The security of this inheritance should allow you to marry whom you wish and pursue your career dreams."

  "See? I was right." Tony said softly. "She did love you."

  "Sir? Ummm, Mr. Hadley? Have you any idea how much a third of the remainder will be?" Ian 's voice was high and strident.

  The lawyer stared at Ian with disapproving eyes. "After the initial gifts and endowments are taken care of and probate paid…I would imagine…in the neighbourhood of two million. I can 't be exact, of course."

  "Two million—" Ian shot to his feet.

  Linda was stunned. "Two million? That means she had over seven million dollars. Jerry, where did she get all that money? And why didn 't you know about it?"

  "I can 't believe she didn 't leave me anything." Jerry slammed shut the door to the guest room.

  Linda's laugh was verging on hysterical. "It 's the final insult, isn 't it? The old bitch had to have the last laugh, as always."

  "It 's a disgrace—that 's what it is—that I have to go to my own son for money. I 'll never forgive her. Never."

  Linda gazed critically into the en-suite mirror. "At least Ian is a sweetie. He 'll share nicely, you wait and see."

  Jerry sat on the edge of the bed. "It 's the principle of the thing. I can understand her not wanting Reggie to have it. He 's such a loser. But I 'm a successful businessman. Why did she doubt me?"

  Linda shrugged into the mirror. "She 's a harridan. One of those ghastly hags from the old myths. What would you expect?"

  "Or maybe…" Jerry brightened, "maybe she thought I was so successful, I wouldn 't need the money and would be insulted by it? Do you think that could be it?"

  Linda nearly choked. "Hardly. She was hateful and you know it. She meant it to hurt."

  Jerry fell back onto the bed. "The whole thing was a waste, " he mumbled. "Why did I bother?"

  Linda turned from the mirror. "What was a waste? Jerry, what are you talking about?" Her voice was sharp.

  Gina stood on the terrace waiting for Tony to join her. With the lawyer gone, everyone had awkwardly scattered. Uncle Jerry was the first to go,
storming out with Aunt Linda creating a perfumed wake. Reggie and Carla disappeared somewhere . Tony had accompanied the lawyer to the door.

  What was she to make of it all? On one hand, there was the surprise of becoming suddenly rich. How thrillingly wonderful it would be not worrying about money anymore. At the same time, she felt a twinge of guilt. What about her parents? Would they resent being overlooked in favour of the next generation, in the way that Ian 's parents obviously felt? She closed her eyes. It was absolutely imperative there not be a rift in her own family over this. Right then and there she pledged to put half the inheritance in her parents ' names. They could enjoy an even better retirement.

  "Deep in thought?" Tony had crept up behind her.

  Gina kept her eyes focused on the garden. A few late roses bravely withstood the change in season. "It is a lot to think about. You, more than anyone."

  He frowned. "Can 't say I 'm looking forward to the confrontation. It won 't be pleasant. I wonder why she didn 't tell me."

  She looked down at her feet. "I expect there was a very good reason. I can think of at least one."

  "Give, " Tony said.

  Gina sighed and wondered how much she should say. But she had never been able to hide her thoughts from Tony.

  "Your parents were out in Vancouver for three years. The family never saw your mom pregnant, which I guess is why no one questioned anything." Except Grandma, who knew everything about everyone. "Have you thought maybe the adoption wasn 't completely legit? Perhaps they didn 't go through all the correct channels, like a waitlist. It was the late 70s, after all. It wouldn 't have been hard to find a girl willing to give up her baby with no fuss."

  "Mom was never very patient, " Tony mumbled.

  "In any case, it doesn 't matter. Adoptions don 't affect anything once you 're over the age of eighteen, " she said. "And then, when you were over eighteen, why rock the boat? I can imagine she saw it was best for everyone. You 're named by name in the will, so you inherit regardless. It really doesn 't matter."

  "Doesn 't it?" he said enigmatically. "I think it matters rather a lot."

  Gina stepped back toward the sliding glass door. "You 're thinking the health implications of not knowing who your birth parents are? Yes, I can imagine that would matter to you."

  "I wasn 't thinking of that, " Tony answered.

  "You can 't touch the capital, Reggie. It 's in trust. The lawyer made it quite clear." Carla busied herself making the bed so she wouldn 't have to look at him.

  "You must have said something to make her do this. Treat us like a bunch of kids. What the heck did you do?" Reggie stormed around the room.

  "I didn 't do anything, " Carla grumbled, firmly tucking in a corner. I just married you.

  "Becki, can I talk to you for a minute? Come out here to the garden, if you don 't mind." Tony gestured from the back porch. Although he preferred modern architecture, he appreciated the graciousness of Grandma 's red-brick Georgian Revival…its classical proportions, hipped roof, columns, pilasters, cornices and spacious porches.

  Becki joined him and they stepped down in silence to the back garden. The large maple tree there was starting to turn scarlet. Langdon Hills was blessed with hundreds of towering maples just like it on private properties all over town and in the town park up the street. Squirrels scampered across the yard on personal missions.

  "Something 's bothering me and I want to bounce it off you, " Tony said.

  "Is it about Gina?"

  "No, actually." He looked quizzical. "How…? Although I probably will want to talk to you about all that at some other time." He kicked a stone onto the garden edge. "I was thinking about the way Grandmother died. Has anybody said anything? The police? Does it seem strange to you?"

  Becki was silent for a moment. Then she said, "I 've been wondering what to do about this. Yes, it does seem odd. I was going to talk to Karl because I just don 't know enough about how people die this way. He might be able to get his hands on the autopsy results. I wouldn 't have said anything about it at all because why kill an old lady for the sake of a rickety old house? But the money is unexpected. It changes things. Do you know how she came to have so much money, Tony?"

  "Actually, I do." Tony frowned. "The thing is…who else knew she had that kind of money? You didn 't know . A nd I 'm sure Gina didn 't, either. Did any of the others?"

  "I 've no idea, " said Becki. "But it makes for a heck of a motive."

  "Gina, I need to talk to you."

  Tony's voice reached her from behind as she mounted the stairs. "I 'm just going up—"

  "Now, Gina. It 's important."

  She turned around to face him. He looked so earnest, just like a boy. Always, he had the power to persuade her. Gina sighed and descended the stairs.

  "Let 's go outside, " he said.

  They walked out the front door. "Come off the porch." He leaped down. "I don 't want anyone overhearing."

  Gina followed him warily. Not now—she didn't want to talk about the whole library scene. She didn 't feel clever enough to cover up her true feelings.

  "I want you to leave the house and go home today, " Tony said. He looked ready to burst.

  Gina nearly fell over. What was this? She said nothing.

  "It 's too dangerous here. You might get hurt. You need to go home so I know you 're safe." He blurted it.

  "What are you talking about?"

  Tony paced around her like a herding dog. "I think Grandma was murdered. I think someone knew how much money she had and put a pillow over her head."

  Her mouth flew open. "You 're crazy."

  "Becki thinks it 's possible too . I 've just talked with her. I want you out of here." Tony stopped and stared into her eyes.

  Gina was caught in a whirlpool. Grandma murdered? One of the family? Who? Why?

  Tony seemed to read her mind. "The killer may not have known what was in the will, that the money skipped a generation. You know what they say about it being easy to kill a second time if you can get away with it once. They may target one of the heirs now to make the pot bigger.

  She felt her mind spinning. If she wasn't safe, neither was Tony. Or Ian or Nellie, for that matter. Could anyone be so heartless as to hurt Nellie? That settled it. Finally, she said, "The Queen Mum."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "What she said during World War II. 'The children won 't go without me, I won 't go without the King, and the King will never leave.'"

  Tony looked puzzled. Then his eyes seemed to click into focus. "You won 't go unless I do."

  "That 's right. And we can 't leave Nellie."

  "I 'm not going, Gina. I can 't."

  "I figured that." She crossed her arms over her chest.

  "I don 't like it, " he said, frowning.

  "That 's tough, " Gina replied.

  Chapter 5

  "I 'm sure they 'll enjoy any hot breakfast, after yesterday."

  "Who 're you talking to?" a small voice asked.

  Becki twirled and discovered Nellie staring at her. "Who am I talking to?" she repeated, stalling for time, hand on heart. "Good question. Um…"

  She could tell Nellie she was talking to herself, but she didn 't approve of lying to children. To anybody. Even little white lies.

  "I was talking to Mom, who isn 't really here in person, because unfortunately she happens to be…uh…dead . Normally I keep conversations with Mom private, but these old floors , " s he squeaked a board with her toe , "f orgot to creak and warn me I wasn 't alone . A nd you caught me."

  "Dead like Grandma?" asked Nellie, pie-eyed. A little ragamuffin.

  "Right." With vigour, she continued to whisk the bowl of eggs, vanilla and salt.

  "That 's okay, Aunt Becki, I talk to Macho."

  She smiled in relief. "And Macho is…?"

  "My monkey. He 's up in my room right now. Father doesn 't like it if I bring Macho down and walk around the house with him. He says I 'm not a baby anymore. And of course I 'm not."
<
br />   "Of course you 're not. You 're a lovely little girl."

  "If he knew I talked with Macho, he 'd be so mad . Nobody else knows but me and Macho. And now you."

  Feeling touched by the non-judgementalism of children and privileged her niece shared her secret about Macho, Becki said, "Well, if you keep my secret, I 'll keep yours."

  "Deal." Nellie held out her little hand. "Shake."

  Becki took Nellie's delicate hand in hers and solemnly shook it, wishing the skin over her own knuckles didn 't look and feel quite so tree-barkish in comparison.

  "What 're you making?" Nellie asked.

  "Breakfast. You like French t oast?"

  Nellie nodded, staring at the counter and all the culinary activity evidenced there.

  "Want to help?"

  "Yes."

  "Would you like to set the table?"

  Nellie hesitated.

  "It 's an important job. We 'll need knives and forks." Becki dug into the utensil drawer and counted out the right number. Making her way toward the table, she said, "I 'll leave them all here. Put one fork and one knife in front of each chair. I 'm sure you know forks go on the left and knives on the right. Oh, and napkins." She searched the buffet along the far wall. "Which colour do you like best? Plain red or bright yellow with pictures of roosters and hens?"

  "Both."

  "Good idea. Let 's put a red one at one setting, then a yellow one at the next. You going be a designer when you grow up?"

  "You 're a designer right?"

  "I 'm a designer. You going to be a politician when you grow up?"

  "Why?"

  "You answer questions with questions."

  Carla and Reggie entered the kitchen. Carla, thin, fair and pleasant-looking. Reggie, thick, dark and scowling. Carla must see him as muscular, seductive and aloof. Big mistake as far as Becki was concerned.

  "Morning , " she said . "You 're a bit early . Haven 't quite finished. But help yourselves to juice. It 's on the table."