“And all of it stayed with the sanatorium,” Henry concluded.
“Every penny.” His eyes were wide with hurt and disbelief. “They said Uncle Walter requested assistance changing his will as he wanted to leave his funds to the sanatorium for further research and study.”
What exactly was one meant to say to that? “That’s quite generous.”
Mr. Dunn scoffed. “If you’d met him, you would never use that word to describe him. He always believed anyone who put in effort could make a fortune, just as he had—and he had no idea how expensive children can be.”
“You have children, sir?” Henry asked, knowing the answer before it was uttered.
“Six.” He gave the number almost reluctantly. “It isn’t easy, not that I would give them up for the world. But I will admit that an inheritance of any amount from Uncle Walter would’ve been helpful.”
He had Henry’s sympathy; he’d seen many families who lived on the brink of poverty. One single misfortune could upend their lives. But that didn’t necessarily mean Hollowgate Heights had done anything illegal.
Still, the situation sounded at the very least questionable. “Did the sanatorium present you with a copy of this new will?”
“They showed it to me, and it had what appeared to be my uncle’s signature on it. But was it signed under duress? Was he in his right mind—could a man be, after wasting away like that? After all, he’d been undergoing rather drastic treatments for nearly six weeks.”
Henry considered their options. He could understand Mr. Dunn’s concern, even if it came partly out of self-preservation. A close look at the document the late Mr. Dunn had signed could prove helpful, as would an examination of his body. “Has a postmortem been performed?”
“Yes, but all it stated was that he died of cancer.” The man shook his head again. “But I don’t know. I just can’t let it go.”
Fletcher cleared his throat. “Did he have any other family? Any close friends who might have more information?”
“A few friends, but no other relatives. My uncle was a bit of a Scrooge, if you understand my meaning. Always complaining that I only acted like I cared because of his money.”
Henry hoped that wasn’t true, but with a little digging, he would soon know. That Mr. Dunn had admitted freely what his uncle thought showed him in a favorable light.
“If you can provide a list of friends, where the postmortem was performed, any other details you think would be helpful, we will look into the matter.” That was the most Henry could promise. “There is a chance we might need to perform a second examination of the body.”
His host’s jaw tightened. “I’d rather that wasn’t necessary, but I suppose I understand the reason.”
If not for his previous questions about Hollowgate Heights, Henry wasn’t sure whether the information Mr. Dunn had provided would warrant an investigation. But the first thing he intended to do was get a copy of the will the deceased man supposedly signed, along with the postmortem report.
Mr. Dunn took a few minutes to write down the information Henry had requested and gathered a few other items. “Here’s the name of my uncle’s solicitor who received a copy of the amended will, the names of a few of Uncle Walter’s friends, and a letter from him with his signature.”
By the time they left a quarter of an hour later, they had enough to move forward.
“Sounds suspicious to me,” Fletcher muttered as they headed back to the Yard.
“I had my doubts until he mentioned that his uncle had signed over his estate,” Henry admitted. “It’s difficult to believe he’d act so out of character unless he’d been miraculously cured.”
“And we know that isn’t the case,” Fletcher added. “Assuming he truly died from cancer.”
“I have the feeling we might need a second postmortem performed.”
“Mr. Taylor should be able to help, eh?” his sergeant suggested.
Henry nodded. “Especially as he happened to examine another body from Hollowgate Heights.”
“I wonder what illness Dr. Thorne suffered from that she managed to cure.”
“Good question.” And one Henry hadn’t considered. “I think we will soon be visiting with her as well.”
They walked for a time, each sifting through their thoughts.
“I forgot to mention, I left a message for Marcus at the Royal Arms last evening,” Henry said at length. “Thought he might be able to provide assistance in the jewelry theft case.”
“Good idea. The lad’s as sharp as a tack. Better than some of our other informants.”
