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Declan’s phone beeped. After reading the message, he rose. “I have to take this. One minute.”
I gathered from Declan’s perplexed expression that the call had something to do with the police, regarding our father’s visitor. I’d been so buried in Will and Bethany’s story, I’d almost forgotten about that.
Will’s solicitor, who had just arrived, rattled off a whole lot of claims, finishing with “Two billion.”
Savanah sprang up like she’d sat on a needle. “That’s bullshit.” She appealed to our mother. “You can’t give him that much. He lied to you.”
My mother ignored my sister’s outburst and whispered something to our lawyer, who then gave Will’s solicitor a faint nod.
“You can’t be serious, Mummy,” Savanah protested.
“I want this over and done with. Give them the money.”
Declan, who’d just joined us again, touched Savanah’s hand, and she sat down again. I got it. That was our mother’s guilt money to Bethany.
A knock came at the door, and we all looked at each other. Declan rose soberly and opened the door to uniformed police.
Declan pointed at Will. “He’s over there.”
The policeman went to Will and uttered, “You’re under arrest for the murder of Henry Winston Lovechilde. You have the right to remain silent…”
Bethany, who screamed as the police continued to read Will his rights, was handcuffed.
Bewildered, we all remained wide-eyed as though we’d been visited by aliens.
“I didn’t do it. This is bullshit.” Will looked at us all, face scrunched, pleading for help.
His lawyer rose and followed. “Don’t say anything.”
After they dragged Will out, Bethany, wearing a blood-freezing scowl, cast daggers at us.
The policeman returned. “You’re to come with us.”
She shrugged out of his hand. “You’ve got nothing on me, pig.”
The incongruity of her parading as a woman of taste while spewing vitriol like someone from the rough side of town was severely jarring.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” she yelled.
The lines on my mother’s forehead deepened. “Was she involved?”
The stern, middle-aged officer replied, “This is a police matter, madam.”
As he dragged her off, she yelled, “You haven’t seen the end of me.”
The shrill in her voice penetrated my ribcage, turning my heart into a lump of ice.
After they left, we remained speechless. I stared out the window at a helicopter hovering above.
Declan broke the silence. “At least we now know.”
“We know what exactly?” Savanah asked.
Great question.
I rose. “This calls for a drink. Any takers?”
Everyone, including our old solicitor, nodded.
