The Lauderhill Legacy

Chapter 24

Lucinda went to the window and looked out over her garden. Her hopes had been so high for the successful outcome of her plan, a chance to secure a financial place in a society, boasting significant bloodlines. Now she would be the last of her line, she fretted, ignoring her son completely. Why shouldn't she? Garfield had been nothing but a weight about her neck ever since he was born; even her husband felt there had been a huge cosmic error in bringing Garfield into the world. She would fare far better if he were completely out of her hair.

"End of story as I see it anyway. And we would be saving poor Garfield some considerable distress." Margaret broke into her thoughts.

Lucinda felt the tinge of a plan tickling her chest. "Margaret, you said that we would designate somebody in our place in the letter and that they would then attain the status of legal claimants."

"That's right."

"What if we named, Garfield?"

Margaret considered her cousin. Almost instantly she saw where her plan was headed and she both admired and despised her at the time. "You would place Garfield in that position, Lucinda?"

"It would solve the problems of all of us. Garfield would have a legitimate argument for his gangster friends that he held a genuine claim in court for the legacy and if it failed to materialize what could they say? He doesn't control the Scottish courts. It would just be a failed attempt... no harm no foul. At least we would be off the hook, as they say, for paying."

"Mr. Bodogian might see it differently though. He has already invested time and effort for an expected return. One doesn't make deals and just walk away saying, oops, sorry, Lucinda."

*****

Martin returned and went straight to his boss and handed him an envelope, whispering in the tiny ear. Victor frowned and swung side to side in his chair, allowing the sudden annoying squeak to grate on everybody's nerves.

"There was a letter addressed to you from Glasgow, Miss Hayes. Amazing how quickly things got done, eh?" Marcee felt her heart speed up and she hoped and prayed that it didn't mention anything about her having all the papers and the cameo. "Shall I open it for you? Yes, I think I should."

Victor slit the envelope open and unfolded the letter. He read slowly, his features wrinkling in an appearance of surprised confusion. "This is very interesting. It would appear that Garfield here has also filed a formal claim against the properties on your island, Miss Hayes."

She gaped. "I don't understand."

"This is from a firm in London advising you that there has been a counter claim to yours and that as soon as the Scottish courts have made a ruling on the authenticity, the fight will be for ownership."

"That's nonsense!" She looked at Garfield. "What proof of any kind do you have to make such a claim?"

Garfield glanced at Victor, who was eyeing him with a new suspicion. "I can explain exactly what that means." And he did.

When he was finished both Marcee and Victor exchanged challenging looks, Victor suddenly feeling that he had a new advantage.

"Well, well. I guess all we have to do now is sit and wait for the court's decision." He leaned back and folded his thick fingers over his stomach.

"Sit and wait!" She exclaimed. "You don't just read something and say, oh yeah, that looks old, must be real." She gave him a pitying look that drew a dark frown. "It could take ages going through the various courts involved. And once they agree that something could be authentic do you have any idea of the process that takes place afterwards, before an item is even registered?"

Victor sat up and slapped his desk noisily. "No, I don't, Miss Hayes. Why don't you enlighten me."

His tone cast an immediate silence over the room, Albert and Martin shifted inside their suit coats, having experienced their boss's temper on a number of occasions, and didn't fancy another display.

Marcee turned to face him and folded her hands in her lap. "If you mean that, I will... gladly."

"Be my guest." It came out as half snarl, half command and all dangerous.

"Fine." She cleared her throat. "First of all, my intention, after finding the Lauderhill legacy, was to offer it to the Royal Scottish Museum as a piece representing a part of the history of both the country and the people. Secondly, it would be a tribute to the ancestors of our family line and available for any and all to appreciate.

"Collections by museums of natural history specimens, archaeological objects, and ethnographical samples are generally acquired by field expeditions. The latter might describe our experience." She indicated Walter with a wave of her hand. "Although we weren't working on behalf of the institution so our contribution could be classed as a gift or bequest.

"Once acquired by a museum, a process of legal arrangements involving lots of paperwork and notarization, a piece or on occasion, an entire collection, is given an accession number, unique to it and clearly marked in such a way as to be visible but not to affect its appearance or condition. This is after a thorough investigation."

She paused and tilted her head. "Any questions?"

"Will this take long?"

"You asked; it's up to you."

He scowled. "Go on."

Marcee smiled grimly. "The next thing that happens is the item is catalogued in the master edition of the museum's holdings maintained by the registrar's department. A separate catalogue of items is kept for all objects for which specific departments are each responsible. These catalogs record information that completely as possible describes or documents each object: a sketch or photograph, pertinent bibliographical references, a report on its condition as received, the dimensions of the piece in both metric and imperial measure and its source and the date received.

"After that, all the information is transferred to computer storage. This is not just a matter of writing stuff down either. It follows, as I said, after a long process of investigation."

She sat back. "I tried to tell you, this could take years."

Victor covered his face with his little sausage fingers, wiping them slowly down until they rested on his cheeks. "Get them out of here. Garfield stays."