a perfect imitation of J.B.’s signature, into the safe, in place of the Will which disinherited Julian. Then switch...”
“Wait a minute,” said Charles. “Let’s see this new Will first. Julian is sole heir, is that right?” Julian produced a manila envelope from the armoire. Charles slid a Will form out of the envelope, glanced through it, and prodded it back before placing it in his pocket. “I see. But you understand that I have to wait until he opens the safe himself? I don’t have the combination — he doesn’t trust me that far. He may open the safe tomorrow, to take out some cash for the Birmingham trip, but then again, he may not.”
“Then you must make some excuse to see that he does. Ask to check on something that’s already in the safe. You are inventive; you can think of something.”
“Probably. But this business of switching the insulin bottle for one containing digitalin is another matter. I don’t think you’ve thought it through properly.”
“He’s on three injections a day, isn’t he? The first thing you have to do is to make sure that he doesn’t take his first injection one morning — or if he does take it, make sure it’s pure water. That will ensure he’ll really be in need of it by the time he broaches this lethal bottle. Then all you have to do is switch bottles so that the next injection he gives himself will be a lethal one.” Julian handed Charles a bottle with a flourish.
Charles pocketed the bottle. “And how am I supposed to explain away his fatal heart attack?”
“Easy. You stage a quarrel with him. You could do it Sunday morning, as that seems to be the earliest opportunity you’ll have, after putting the new Will in the safe. Then no one will be surprised when they find him dead — ”
“With remains of a bottle containing digitalin beside him? That makes me suspect number one. I decline the position. If I go down, then so do you. Besides at Whitestones there are staff within earshot all the time; he’d only have to touch a bell to bring them running, get a doctor...”
“How about this?” suggested Bianca. “Julian stages a reconciliation with his father, which will explain why J.B. has made a new Will reinstating his son as sole heir. Julian must get on the phone tonight to J.B., crawl to him, say he’s sorry he’s been such a naughty boy, that he wants to kiss and make up. He invites J.B. to lunch on Sunday — here. J.B. will accept, because he always does come round after quarrelling with Julian, doesn’t he? Then while you’re both here, you pick a quarrel with J.B. and storm out, leaving him reaching for his heart tablets and for his syringe. After he’s given himself the fatal injection, we switch the bottles back again, and all the doctor will find when he gets here will be the rest of a perfectly ordinary bottle of insulin. That way nobody gets suspicious, and Julian inherits.”
“And I shall be in the clear? What about the cheques I’ve obtained for you?”
“Who’s going to query them?” asked Julian. “I shall inherit, and I’m certainly not going to query them, am I?”
“And Sue?”
“Sue stays with us for the weekend,” snapped Bianca. “She will be at liberty to move around the house, but not to leave. I hear she’s a passable cook, so she can relieve me of that chore this weekend; in fact, she can cook us all a splendid Sunday lunch to celebrate Julian’s reunion with his father. Robert and Ruth can come, too, to act as witnesses to the reconciliation.”
Charles was tossing his bunch of keys again. I wondered how his scars had healed. His eyes were on Julian. “This is your father you’re talking about. The man who sired you, and worried over you and rescued you from scrapes. You’re not talking about a rat or a newly-born kitten; you’re talking about putting down your own father!”
I thought Julian looked a little off-colour at that, but Bianca whipped in to prevent backsliding.
“This is the man who’s disinherited his only son without adequate reason, who has neglected him for years, except to scold him. Yes, this is the man who broke his mother’s heart and drove her to an early grave, the man everyone hates because he can’t string two civil words together. Oh, he’s an admirable creature! Well worth saving, isn’t he, Julian?”
“Well?” asked Charles.
Julian made a