“Yes,” he says with his best choirboy smile. “Definitely.”
Is it weird that I can tell Felix’s real smile from the fake one?
“The short answer is that Claude didn’t know his sister well. They hadn’t spoken in years. She never approved of his lifestyle.”
“Because he was gay or she thought Castle Claude was weird?” I ask.
“Both, I suppose. Claude told me his sister had always aspired to be part of the local high society, such as it is. The country club set. She didn’t marry until later in life, when she finally found someone who fit her ideal—the right kind of person, with the right kind of money. And then she threw herself into her husband’s family with both feet.”
“Bradley’s family,” Felix translates.
Mervyn nods. “When her husband died a few years later, Claude wanted to go to the funeral, but she refused. I doubt any of them knew she had a brother, until there was something to be gained from him.”
I’m surprised by the bitterness in his voice, but not because I blame him for disliking Claude’s sister. It’s unusual to hear one adult talk like that about another. As if he’s realized the same thing, Mervyn sighs.
“To answer your original question, Claude was a dreamer. He believed his sister would come around. Learn to love his home and his friends, and vice versa—which is why he wanted her to give it at least three months.” He smiles at me. “Your grandmother would have set him straight. I’m sure that’s why he didn’t tell her what he had planned.”
That tracks. Grandma Lainey is nothing if not persuasive, in a bulldozing way.
“I did what I could,” Mervyn continues, “encouraging Claude to include several express conditions precedent to her inheritance.”
“Like what?” Felix asks.
“Protections for the things he valued. She can’t take Zenobia to an animal shelter, for example. Or interfere with any of the other bequests. Still, I regret not letting your grandmother know about the terms of the will while there was time to change Claude’s mind,” Mervyn muses, tapping a pen against his palm. “The circumstances might have been different then.”
Felix side-eyes me, and I suspect we’re both wondering if this elderly lawyer is lost in a romantic daydream. I guess it’s up to me to pour cold water on him.
“So she can’t actually take over the whole building, right? Claude’s sister.”
Mervyn sits up sharply. “Why do you ask?”
“Just how she talks, and acts.” I break off, not sure how to support my claim. A lot of it is gut feeling, slapped together with some overbearing remarks about window treatments.
“Oh, that,” Mervyn says, polite but dismissive. “I’m afraid it’s her personality. Claude got all the people skills in that family.”
“Speaking of family,” Felix jumps in. “She’s not the only one who was nosing around. There’s also her nephew. Was, I mean.” He flushes. “Bradley seemed suspiciously interested in Castle Claude. And not because his aunt lived there.”
“You think he was serious?” I ask Felix, wishing he’d mentioned this before our meeting with Mervyn. “Not just trying to act like Mr. Big Shot with his condo fantasies?”
“I think he’s the kind of guy who believed every half-baked idea that passed through his head was solid gold.”
It looks like the peppers from lunch are repeating on Mervyn. “That’s much more concerning.”
“Really?” I glance at Felix to see if he’s picked up on something I missed. “Even though he’s, you know, deceased?”
“His wealthy father, however, is very much alive and known to be litigious. He likes suing people,” Mervyn explains, when we look at him blankly. “Claude’s sister doesn’t have the resources to be a real threat. I wouldn’t worry about her. No, it’s the Odells we need to watch. I should put in a call to that detective.”
Our expressions must betray us, because Mervyn sends me a questioning look.
“Detective Ortiz came by the building the other day,” I explain. “The police are looking for Bradley’s EpiPen.”
Mervyn makes a considering sound. “Then it was an allergic reaction.”
“Is that… unexpected?” I wonder what he knows that we don’t. “I mean, was there another possibility?”
“As a lawyer, it’s my job to worry about all eventualities.”
It’s an ambiguous response. I glance at Felix, who shrugs. “Is that good or bad? For us.” Obviously it was very bad for Bradley.
