"Please help yourself." She sat back in the chair that dwarfed her, composed and in control.
Uncomfortably, he began to sift through the ladened In and Out trays, decided to take them as they were and put one on top of the other. "If there's anything... just call."
"After Mr. Skye and I are through, perhaps a few minutes if you're free."
"Whenever, of course. Just ring that bell."
Skye said, "Jamie, did you get the death certificates yet, by chance?"
"Yes I did."
"Could I see a copy, please?"
Jamie stared at him. "For what purpose?"
"To check it."
Angelique said, "Mal... my husband had retained the services of Mr. Skye--I believe you knew that, Jamie?"
"Yes I did." Jamie had noticed the way she had changed Malcolm to my husband and saw Heavenly nod approvingly and a danger signal went through him. "So?"
Skye said smoothly, "When I heard the disastrous news I felt beholden to offer my services to his widow..." The word was imperceptibly accented. "... which she has kindly accepted. The tai-pan had asked me to undertake certain research for him which I thought Mrs. Struan might wish to continue."
"Good." Jamie nodded politely and began to leave.
"The death certificate, Jamie?"
"What's your pleasure, Angelique-- Mrs. Struan?"
"Mr. Skye is my solicitor now, Jamie. He understands these things, which I don't, and he has agreed to act for me," she said clearly in the same unemotional way. "I would like you, please, to give him whatever help he needs."
"Of course. If you'll follow me, Heavenly." Jamie walked out and went into his office and stood behind his desk, pretending to look for the papers that he had put into his drawer for safety. "Would you shut the door, there's a terrible draft." The small man obeyed.
"Listen," he said keeping his voice down but there was no mistaking the undercurrent, "if you bamboozle her, or play silly buggers or overcharge her I'll kick the shit out of you."
The little man came closer, his pebble glasses cracked and fogged. "I've never done that to a client in my life," he said, puffing up like a cobra. "A few big bills, yes, but never more than the market could stand. That woman needs help for God's sake. I can give it to her, you can't."
"I can and will, by God."
"I don't agree! Malcolm told me the other Mrs. Struan, the woman in Hong Kong fired you, true or false? And true or false that you as well as Malcolm have been getting angry, even threatening letters from her for weeks, paranoiac against my client and her engagement with all sorts of unfounded accusations?
True or false, for God's sake, that that girl needs friends."
"I agree she needs friends, I don't object to her having a solicitor, I just want to be sure you'll act correctly."
"God dammit I've never buggered a client in my life. Jamie, I may be a hungry lawyer but I'm a good one, and we're on the same side. She needs friends, Malcolm loved her, you were Malcolm's friend for God's sake-- he told me about the letters you would have risked hanging for."
"Never mind that wh--"
"I'm not arguing with you, Jamie, she's my client and I swear I'll do best for her. The death certificate, please."
Seething, Jamie opened the drawer and gave him a copy.
"Thanks... ah three, eh? One for your files, one to go with the body and one for her, quite correct though I'm surprised they bothered to think of her, original by special to Hong Kong." Heavenly scanned the paper.
"Christ Almighty!"
"What's the matter?"
"Hoag and Babcott," he said. "They may be good doctors but as defense witnesses they're a disaster! Shit, I should have been told before they issued this--any fool could have given them better wording!"
"What the devil are you talking about?"
"Murder, or at least a charge of murder."
"You're mad!"
"It wouldn't be the first for Tess Struan," the little man hissed. "Remember the Bosun?
Everyone in Hong Kong knew it was an accident but he was charged with murder, found guilty of manslaughter and given ten years!"
"The jury found him guilty not Tess by God an--"
"But she was the one who pressed for the charge!"
Skye slammed back at him, keeping his voice down. "And she'll press charges here. If this was read out in court in a criminal or civil case, our opposing barrister would claim he died fucking--please excuse my vulgarity--"and the other half of the act sits in the dock there, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, whose father is a felon on the run, whose uncle is in a French jail, who herself is a penniless adventuress, a Jezebel who knowingly seduced this poor young man, a minor, into marrying her and then, and then ladies and gentlemen of the jury, with malice aforethought seduced him into a early death--with malice aforethought--knowing only too well his wounds would do the job for her!" True or bloody false?"
Jamie sat down, paler than before. Hoag's words had jumped into his mind. "What're you going to do?"
"First I'll try to get this wording changed, don't think they will but I have to try. Do you have his will? Malcolm's?"
Jamie shook his head. "He never mentioned one to me."
"I told him it was important he should have one drawn up when he first came to see me--that's routine. You're sure?"
"I know I don't have one, not in our safe."
Jamie frowned. Would Malcolm have made one?
If I was getting married, I would. Wait a minute I was engaged to Maureen for years and never had one. My God, I wonder how she is, what she thought when she got my letter.
"He never mentioned a will to me. Did he to Angelique?" "No, that was my first question. Perhaps he made one without your knowledge. Did he have a safety box or a special place for his private papers?"
"No, not really, I suppose that would be in Hong Kong, except there's a small safe in his rooms."
"Let's go and look." Skye started out of the room.