by a major one and died. Now by the terms of her first will, Patricia got five thousand, there were the usual bequests to servants and charities, but the whole of the remainder went to Mark.â
âAnd to come down to vulgar figures, that was . . .?â
âThe best part of two hundred thousand pounds.â
âGood God!â Jack gazed at Bill with gratifying astonishment. âI thought you said nobody gained. Hellâs bells, with that sort of money kicking about you could have a line of murderers queuing round the block. Did Mark have any idea of how rich the old lady was?â
Bill shook his head. âThatâs the point. No one did. Her allowance to Mark was her one extravagance. She lived at the rate of six hundred a year, paid her bills promptly and gave everyone the impression her income had declined over the years. All the time her capital was building up at compound interest.â
âWow! And again, wow! But now Markâs out of the picture, who gets it?â
Bill frowned. âThatâs just it, you see. After Mark vanished his grandmother made another will. That was after her first heart attack. She probably knew she didnât have long left. When â she firmly believed it was when and not if, apparently â Mark turned up again, the terms of the original will would stand, but in the meantime, the whole amount was to be put into a trust for him. Patricia and her husband could draw upon the income, but they couldnât touch the capital until it was proved that Mark was dead.â
âHang on. If thatâs invested nice and safely at three per cent, say, thatâs about . . .â Jack closed his eyes and did some mental gymnastics. âIâd say that was six thousand a year.â
âNot bad. Thereâs actually a bit more than that, because of a block of shares she had that pay about nine per cent. The total income amounts to around eight thousand a year.â
âYou told me no one benefited,â said Jack reprovingly. âYou may think those sort of dibs arenât worth having, but I bet Patricia â as was Helston â Jaggard thinks itâs well worth knowing about. I bet Gregory Jaggard does too.â
âBut she didnât know it existed,â said Bill plaintively. âNobody did. It was split up into so many different holdings even the lawyer didnât have a clue how rich she was.â
Jack drew in a long mouthful of smoke. âThat does alter things, I agree. Damn! Thereâs another thing, too. If that was the reason, itâd make more sense to first see off grandma, then bump off Mark. Itâs a bit obvious, but itâd work. Doing it this way leaves an awful lot to chance. Thereâd be no guarantee that the will would be altered. If Mark were a properly attested corpse then his grandmother would presumably alter her will in favour of Patricia. Having him vanish like this leaves everything open. Itâs no end of a powerful argument against your idea that heâs slung his hook, though. Heâd hardly stay vanished knowing thereâs two hundred thousand for the taking.â
âIt depends why he went,â said Bill, dryly. âYouâre assuming, along with Mr Hunt, that Mark had no reason to disappear. What if heâs committed a crime?â
âWhat sort of crime?â
âTheft, perhaps? He might have murdered someone for all I know.â
A slow smile twitched Jackâs mouth. â
Thatâs
something I wouldnât suggest to Mr Hunt. Have you got many murderees in want of a murderer? No? Because you see, donât you, that idea implies that not only has Mark Helston managed to successfully conceal himself since January, he also contrived a murder of such brilliance that nobody knows itâs occurred.â
Bill grinned in return. âOkay, strike that one from the record. Iâd love to know what the devilâs happened to him,
László Krasznahorkai, George Szirtes