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Authors: Jeffrey Archer

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'Shall we say next Thursday afternoon at
five o'clock, Mr Kullick?'

The lawyer checked his diary, crossed something
out and entered the name Sommerfield in its place. Lynn rose from her chair.

'I see that this will was originally drawn
up by Haskins, Haskins & Purbright,' said Kullick.

'That is correct, Mr Kullick,' Lynn said
just before she reached the door. She turned back and smiled sweetly. 'Mr
Sommerfield felt that Mr Haskins's charges had becomeexorbitant, I think was
the word he used.'

She opened the door. 'I do hope you don't make
the same mistake, Mr Kullick, as we may be in need of your services at some
time in the future.' She closed the door quietly behind her.

By four o'clock the following Thursday, Lynn
felt confident that she had addressed all the problems posed by Mr Kullick's
demands and that everything was in place. She knew if she made the slightest
mistake she would have wasted almost a year of her life, and all she would have
to show for it would be a cane with a silver handle and a photograph of a young
man at Princeton whom she didn't particularly like.

As she and Arthur sat and watched yet
another episode in the life of Sergeant Bilko, Lynn went over the timing in her
mind, trying to think of anything that might crop up at the last moment and
derail her. Mr Kullick would need to be on time if her plan was to work. She
checked her watch every few minutes.

When the show finally came to an end, with Bilko
somehow managing to outsmart Colonel John T. Hall once again, Lynn turned off
the television, poured Arthur a generous measure of whisky and handed him a Havana
cigar.

'What have I done to deserve this?

'Someone's coming to see you, Arthur, so you
mustn't fall asleep.'

'Who?' demanded Arthur, but not before he'd
taken a sip of his whisky.

'A Mr Kullick. He's one of Mr Haskins's associates.'

'What does he want?' he asked as Lynn lit a match
and held it up to the cigar.

'He's bringing over the latest version of
your will, so you can sign it. Then you won't have to bother about it again.'

'Has he included my bequests to you this time?'

'He assured me that your wishes would be carried
out to the letter, but he needed them confirmed in person,' said Lynn as the
doorbell rang.

'Good,' said Arthur, taking another swig of whisky
before Lynn plumped up his pillows and helped him to sit up.

Moments later there was a gentle knock on the
bedroom door and a maid entered, accompanied by Mr Kullick. Arthur peered
intently at the intruder through a cloud of smoke.

'Good afternoon, Mr Sommerfield,' said the lawyer
as he walked towards the bed. He had intended to shake hands with the old man, but
when he saw the look of disdain on his face, he decided against it. 'My name is
Kullick, sir,' he said, remaining at the foot of the bed.

'I know,' said Arthur. 'And you've come about
my will.'

'Yes, sir, I have, and...'

'And have you remembered to include the bequests
for my nurse this time?'

'Yes, he has, Arthur,' interrupted Lynn. 'I told
you all about it after I'd returned from visiting Mr Kullick last week.'

'Ah, yes, I remember,' said Arthur, draining
his glass.

'You've given me everything -- ' she paused '...
that I asked for.'

'Everything?' said Arthur.

'Yes,' she said, 'which is so much more than
I deserve. But if you want to change your mind . . .' she added as she refilled
his glass.

'No, no, you've more than earned it.'

'Thank you, Arthur,' she said, taking him by
the hand.

'Let's get on with it,' said thavesqu; she;s
he old man wearily, turning his attention back to Kullick.

'Would you like me to take you through the will
clause by clause, sir?'

'Certainly not. Haskins took long enough
doing that last time.'

'As you wish, sir. Then all that remains to
be done is for you to sign the document. But, as I explained to Ms Beattie,
that will require a witness.'

'I'm sure Mr Sommerfield's personal maid will
be happy to act as witness,' said Lynn as the front doorbell rang again.

'I'm afraid that won't be possible,' said Kullick.

'But why not?' demanded Lynn, who had already
given Paula twenty dollars to carry out the task.

'Because she's a beneficiary of the will,'
said Kullick, 'and therefore ineligible to be a witness.'

'She is indeed,' said Arthur. Turning to
Lynn he explained, 'I've left her the silver-plated dinner service.' He leaned
across and whispered, 'But I can assure you, my dear, that the silver cane is,
like you, sterling.'

Lynn smiled as she desperately tried to
think who could take Paula's place. Her first thought was the chauffeur, but
then she remembered that he was also a beneficiary...

Arthur's ancient car. She didn't want to
risk going through the whole process again, but she couldn't think of anyone
suitable to take the maid's place at such short notice.

'Could you come back this time tomorrow?' she
asked, trying to remain calm. 'By then I'm sure-' She was interrupted by a
knock on the door and Dr Grove strode into the room.

'How are you, Arthur?' he asked.

'Not too bad,' said Arthur. 'I'd be even
better if you felt able to witness my signature. Or is Grove also a beneficiary
of my will?' he asked Kullick.

'Certainly not,' said Dr Grove before the
lawyer could speak. 'It's against company policy for any employee of Jackson
Memorial to benefit from a bequest left by a patient.'

'Good, then you can earn your fee for a change,
Grove. That is, assuming Kullick agrees you're acceptable.'

'Eminently so, Mr Sommerfield,' said Kullick
as he opened his briefcase and extracted three thick documents. He slowly
turned the pages, pointing to the small pencil crosses at the bottom of each
page indicating where both signatures should be placed.

Although Lynn had taken a step back so as not
to appear too involved in the process, her heartbeat didn't return to normal
until the last page of all three copies had been signed
and witnessed.

Once the ceremony had been completed, Kullick
gathered up the documents, placed one copy in his briefcase and handed the other
two to Mr Sommerfield, who waved them away, so Lynn placed them in the drawer
by his bed.

'I'll take my leave, sir,' said Kullick,
still not confident enough to shake hands with his latest client.

'Give Haskins my best wishes,' said Arthur
as he screwed the top back on his fountain pen.

'But I no longer work for...'

'Just be sure to tell Mr Haskins when you next
see him,' Lynn said quickly, 'that he obviously didn't fully appreciate Mr Sommerfield's
wishes when it came to the very generous bequest he had in mind for me. But at
the same time, do assure him I am not someone who bears grudges.'

Dr Grove frowned, but said nothing.

'Very magnanimous of you in the
circumstances, my dear,' said Arthur.

'When I next see him,' Kullick repeated.

Then he added, 'I feel it's my duty to point
out to you, Mr Sommerfield, that your children may feel they are entitled to...'

'Not you as well, Kullick. When will you all
accept that I've made my decision, and nothing you can say will change my mind?
Now please leave us.'

'As you wish, sir,' said Kullick, stepping
back as Dr Grove stuck a thermometer into his patient's mouth.

Lynn accompanied the lawyer to the door.

'Thank you, Mr Kullick, the maid will show you
out.'

Kullick left without another word and after Lynn
had closed the door behind him she returned to Arthur's bedside where Dr Grove was
studying the thermometer.

'Your temperature is up a little, Arthur,
but that's hardly surprising, considering all the excitement you've just been
put through.'

Turning to Lynn, he added, 'Perhaps we should
leave him to have a little rest before supper.' Lynn nodded. 'Goodbye, Arthur,'
he said in a louder voice. 'See you in a few days' time.'

'Good day, Grove,' said Arthur, switching
the television back on.

'He's looking very frail,' said Dr Grove as Lynn
accompanied him down the stairs. 'I'm going to advise his children to fly home
in the next few days. I can't believe it will be much longer.'

'I'll make sure their rooms are ready,' said
Lynn, 'and that Mr Sommerfield's driver picks them up at the airport.'

'That's very thoughtful of
you,&squofuler pirsqrsquo; said Dr Grove as they walked across the hall. 'I
want you to know, Lynn, how much I appreciate all you're doing for Arthur. When
you come back to Jackson Memorial, I'm going to recommend to the medical
director that you're given a promotion and a rise in salary to go with it.'

'Only if you think I'm worth it,' said Lynn coyly.

'You're more than worth it,' Grove said. 'But
you do realize,' he added, lowering his voice when he spotted the maid coming
out of the kitchen, 'that if Arthur left you anything in his will, however
small, you would lose your job?'

'I would lose so much more than that,' said Lynn,
squeezing his hand.

Grove smiled as the maid opened the door for
him. 'Goodbye, honey,' he whispered.

'Goodbye, Dr Grove,' Lynn said, for the last
time.

She ran back up the stairs and into the
bedroom to find Arthur, cigar in one hand and an empty glass in the other,
watching The Johnny Carson Show. Once she'd poured him a second whisky, Lynn
sat down by his side. Arthur had almost fallen asleep when Carson bade goodnight
to his thirty million viewers with the familiar words, 'See you all at the same
time tomorrow.' Lynn turned off the TV, deftly removed the half-smoked cigar from
Arthur's fingers and placed it in an ash-tray on the side table, then switched
off the light by his bed.

'I'm still awake,' said Arthur.

'I know you are,' said Lynn. She bent down and
kissed him on the forehead before slipping an arm under the sheet. She didn't
comment when a stray hand moved slowly up the inside of her leg. She stopped
when she heard the familiar sigh, that moments later was followed by steady
breathing. She removed her hand from under the sheet and strolled into the
bathroom, wondering how many more times she would have to...

Sadly, the children arrived home just a few hours
after Arthur passed away peacefully in his sleep.

Mr Haskins removed the half-moon spectacles
from the end of his nose, put down the will and looked across his desk at his
two clients.

'So all I get,' said Chester Sommerfield,
not attempting to hide his anger, 'is a silver-handled cane, while Joni ends up
with just a picture of Dad taken when he was a freshman at Princeton?'

'While all his other worldly goods,'
confirmed Mr Haskins, 'are bequeathed to a Miss Lynn Beattie.'

'And what the hell has she done to deserve that?'
demanded Joni.

'To quote the will,' said Haskins, looking back
down at it, 'she has acted as "my devoted nurse and close companion".'

'Are there no loopholes for us
to exploit?' asked Chester.

'That's most unlikely,' said Haskins, 'because,
with the exception of one paragraph, I drew up the will myself.'

'But that one paragraph changes the whole outcome
of the will,' said Joni. 'Surely we should take this woman to court. Any jury will
see that she is nothing more than a fraudster who tricked my father into
signing a new will only days after you had amended the old one for him.'

'You may well be right,' said Haskins, 'but,
given the circumstances, I couldn't advise you to contest the validity of the
will.'

'But your firm's investigators have come up with
irrefutable evidence that Ms Beattie was nothing more than a common prostitute,'
said Chester, 'and her nursing qualifications were almost certainly
exaggerated. Once the court learns the truth, surely our claim will be upheld.'

'In normal circumstances I would agree with you,
Chester, but these are not normal circumstances. As I have said, I could not
advise you to take her on.'

'But why not?' came back Joni. 'At the very least
we could show that my father wasn't in his right mind when he signed the will.'

'I'm afraid we'd be laughed out of court,'
said Haskins, 'when the other side points out that the will was witnessed by a
highly respected doctor who was at your father's bedside right up until the day
he died.'

'I'd still be willing to risk it,' said
Chester.

'Just look at it from her perspective. She's
a penniless whore who has recently been dismissed from her job without a
reference, and she sure won't want her past activities aired in court and then
reported on the early evening news followed by the front page of every morning
paper.'

BOOK: And Thereby Hangs a Tale
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