Read Online A Will To Murder by Hilary Thomson - Free Book Online Page B

they often quarrel viciously among themselves.  It’s a tragedy, Ms. Boyle.  Here, I have this photocopy of casket types you can peruse at your leisure.”
    “Get him away,” whispered Rose to Phil.  Salisbury stepped between Douthit and Katherine long enough to allow the old lady to dash for the Lincoln.  Once inside, Katherine quickly locked the car door, but the undertaker lunged for her open window.
    “You will think about it, Ms. Boyle, and let me know?  I have some suggestions if you’re at a loss for ideas.”
    Katherine was grabbing in vain for the window crank.  Phil hit a button, and the Lincoln’s power windows rose so fast that Douthit was forced to jerk his head back or be decapitated.  He still managed to drop the casket sheet inside the window, however.
    “Just give me a call and I’ll make an appointment!” cried the undertaker cheerfully.
    Salisbury put the accelerator down and the car leapt forward.
    “Could we stop somewhere for a drink before we go home?” Katherine groaned.  “I need something to take with my heart medicine.  If he’d kept his spiel up any longer he’d have gained another client.”
    “Douthit gets more freakish every year,” said Jac tartly. “Stop at a fast-food place in Chichiteaux, Phil.”
     
     
    Once back at Rollingwood, the family gathered in the living room for a talk with the lawyer, Douglas Hamilton.  Hamilton was fiftyish and greying, and his weathered skin showed much evidence of his yachting hobby.  
    Arthur decided to hang out, since Richie and Briarly were absent, and patted Barksdale while the grownups talked.  Unfortunately, the Labrador was turning out to be one of those sleeping dogs that were good for nothing except for being mooshed around the floor like Play-doh.  
    Jac was sitting with crossed legs on the sofa, slowly raising and lowering a loose navy pump on her panty-hosed toe.  Rose stood gnawing her hair.  Bert sat a little down from Jac.  Mrs. Marshpool was alone on the I-shaped sofa, her expression severe.  Phil lounged uncomfortably against a wall.  In the center of the room stood Hamilton, and facing him were Katherine and Armagnac.
    “There!” Boyle hooted, arms crossed.  “You hear him!  You can’t carry out any more alterations!”
    Katherine only huffed in a bear-like way at her nephew.
    “So what are you going to do about that test patch?” Boyle asked smugly.  “It’s defacing the house.”
    The old lady stared at him.  Then she picked up something from a side table and slapped it into his palm.  “There!” she yelled.
    Armagnac looked down.  He was holding a black felt-tip marker.  Irritably, he tossed it aside.  The lawyer’s face was bland.  Everyone was giving Hamilton curious looks, for he had no paperwork or briefcase with him.  The lawyer seemed strangely unprepared to begin a will-reading.
    When Katherine dropped down on the couch next to Bert, Arthur took the opportunity to complain to her, “I couldn’t find any bats in the attic.  I really wanted to see one.”
    “That’s because they’ve all been exterminated, dear. We had that done a few months ago.”
    “Oh,” said the boy, disappointed.
    Hamilton’s gravelly voice spoke.  “You’re probably expecting me to start the will reading.”  He smiled a little.
    “If you’d get on with it,” drawled Armagnac.
    Taking no notice, the lawyer continued, “But I can’t until all the family have turned up.  Two more of your relatives will be arriving tomorrow.”
    Armagnac gaped, and Jac’s shoe stopped moving.  Rose bit a nail through.  The only face not surprised was Katherine’s.  The old lady reddened.
    “Who’s coming?” said Jac to her aunt, eyes sharp.
    “The Wileys,” Katherine whispered hoarsely.
    “Aunt Sophia’s children?” exclaimed Rose, coming over to sit by her sister.  Katherine nodded eagerly.
    “Wasn’t Sophia cut out of the will?” Jac asked.
    Sophia Boyle was the youngest sister of James