Taverner paused and looked at me thoughtfully.
"I wonder," he said, "what the reactions will be from the family?"
Chapter 20
The inquest went off much as I had prophesied.
It was adjourned at the request of the police.
We were in good spirits for news had come through the night before from the hospital that Josephine's injuries were much less serious than had been feared and that her recovery would be rapid.
For the moment, Dr Gray said, she was to be allowed no visitors - not even her mother.
"Particularly not her mother," Sophia murmured to me. "I made that quite clear to Dr Gray.
Anyway, he knows Mother."
I must have looked rather doubtful for Sophia said sharply:
"Why the disapproving look?"
"Well - surely a mother -"
"I'm glad you've got a few nice old fashioned ideas, Charles.
But you don't quite know what my mother is capable of yet.
The darling can't help it, but there would simply have to be a grand dramatic scene.
And dramatic scenes aren't the best things for anyone recovering from head injuries."
"You do think of everything, don't you, my sweet."
"Well, somebody's got to do the thinking now that grandfather's gone."
I looked at her speculatively. I saw that old Leonides's acumen had not deserted him. The mantle of his responsibilities was already on Sophia's shoulders.
After the inquest, Gaitskill accompanied us back to Three Gables.
He cleared his throat and said pontifically: "There is an announcement it is my duty to make to you all."
For this purpose the family assembled in Magda's drawing room.
I had on this occasion the rather pleasurable sensations of the man behind the scenes. I knew in advance what Gaitskill had to say.
I prepared myself to observe the reactions of everyone.
Gaitskill was brief and dry.
Any signs of personal feeling and annoyance were well held in check.
He read first Aristide Leonides's letter and then the will itself.
It was very interesting to watch.
I only wished my eyes could be everywhere at once.
I did not pay much attention to Brenda and Laurence.
The provision for Brenda in this will was the same.
I watched primarily Roger and Philip, and after them Magda and Clemency.
My first impression was that they all behaved very well.
Philip's lips were pressed closely together, his handsome head was thrown back against the tall chair in which he was sitting.
He did not speak.
Magda, on the contrary, burst into speech as soon as Mr Gaitskill finished, her rich voice surging over his thin tones like an incoming tide drowning a rivulet.
"Darling Sophia - how extraordinary... How romantic...
Fancy old Sweetie Pie being so cunning and deceitful - just like a dear old baby.
Didn't he trust us?
Did he think we'd be cross?
He never seemed to be fonder of Sophia than of the rest of us.
But really, it's most dramatic."
Suddenly Magda jumped lightly to her feet, danced over to Sophia and swept her a very grand court curtsey.
"Madame Sophia, your penniless and broken down old mother begs you for alms." Her voice took on a cockney whine. "Spare us a copper, old dear.
Your Ma wants to go to the pictures."
Her hand, crooked into a claw, twitched urgently at Sophia.
Philip, without moving, said through stiff lips:
"Please Magda, there's no call for any unnecessary clowning."
"Oh, but, Roger," cried Magda, suddenly turning to Roger. "Poor darling Roger.
Sweetie was going to come to the rescue and then, before he could do it, he died.