“Why do you say that?”
“Because of the will with the new executor?” Mrs. Vance suggested.
“Yes,” James agreed. “According to Mrs. Montgomery and Soothcoor, Mr. Ratcliffe has been handling the estate properly.”
“As far as they knew,” said Cecilia.
“Yes, as far as they knew,” James conceded. “Mr. Ramsay will need to review everything to determine if that is true or not.”
“There is probably an executor’s fee associated with the estate,” Mrs. Vance said.
“Yes, but I can’t see that being a big enough reason to frame a man for murder,” James said.
“Would Mr. Ratcliffe stay the executor if Soothcoor was found guilty?” Cecilia asked.
“I could see the courts doing that,” James said.
“I wonder if he’s leveraged the Montgomery estate in an investment scheme?” Mrs. Vance said slowly. “My husband almost lost everything in investments outside of the cent per cents twenty years ago.”
James stared at Mrs. Vance. “Mrs. Vance, you are a genius. I would wager that is precisely what he has done and why he can’t afford to allow the estate to go into another’s hands!”
“And Camden House Sanatorium is the investment, which isn’t doing as well as he’d thought it would because Dr. Worcham does charity work—” Cecilia said.
“—And his superintendent is embezzling,” Julia added.
“He can’t let the estate go out of his control, at least not until he can stop the investment failing,” Cecilia said.
“But he doesn’t know about Mr. Turnbull-Minchin’s activities,” Julia said.
“Not yet, he doesn't know. He soon will,” James said.
After James left,the women made short work of finishing Mr. Montgomery’s room, except for the bed linens as they hadn’t received instructions on the bed linens as yet. They did remove all the bed linens for laundry, carefully inspecting every piece for a hidden note or item. They found nothing.
Liddy had become engrossed in arranging the broken pieces of porcelain statues, carefully trying to put them back together. Julia knelt next to her. “Maybe I can ask my son to get us some glue to repair these. Would you like that?”
Liddy shrugged. “It won’t be the same. It will never be the same,” she said sadly.
“No, they won’t; however, they will be gentle reminders of Mr. Montgomery for you and your treasure box. Where is your treasure box? I thought it was in the hidden room.”
Liddy shook her head. “No. It’s outside. In a safe place with Mr. Montgomery’s,” she said with a smile as she moved pieces of a statue together for the best fit.
Cecilia and Julia looked at each other. Cecilia knelt on the other side of Liddy. The child ignored her, continuing to arrange the broken pieces. She hummed as she played with the pieces.
“Liddy can you show us where Mr. Montgomery’s treasure box is? It might have important papers in it.”
“Maybe,” Liddy said, and went back to humming.
Cecilia inhaled deeply. Cecilia thought Liddy was in her world of memory, a safe place in her unsafe world. She didn’t blame her. She remembered times she’d spent hours with her good memories, blocking out her reality.
“Liddy, I have one more thing to do before dinner and I’d like your help,” Cecilia told the child. “It is something that will help Mr. Montgomery tell the truth about Mr. Turnbull-Minchin. Can you help me?”
Liddy stopped humming. Her hands stilled. Her eyes filled with tears, and her lip quivered.
“Liddy! What is it? I didn’t mean to make you cry! Oh, come here!” Cecilia pulled Liddy into her arms.
Mrs. Vance rested her hand on Liddy’s shoulder and Julia edged closer as she handed her a handkerchief. “Liddy!” she said.
Liddy’s tears suddenly became a torrent, and sobs wracked her thin body.
