The Lauderhill Legacy

Chapter 8

March was impersonating the end of February, maintaining the same brisk temperatures and adding the threat of heavier winds. The walk was not all that enjoyable. Walter pulled his head down inside his collar and blew warm breath against the material. A sprinkling of stars struggled to shine against the glow from the city, offering little competition as night advanced and more lights sprang to life.

A few other people drifted past, heads down, hands pocketed and eyes tearing against the piercing cool of the wind; it was not a night for romantic walks.

"I think I've changed my mind about that drink."

"Thought you might." She took his arm and steered him toward the car park.

Twenty minutes later Walter relaxed on a leather section of sofa, facing a set of glass patio doors that gave onto a magnificent view of the neighbouring building. He was reminded of the film, Rear Window, able to see, quite clearly in some cases, the activities in the different units.

"This must be better than TV."

Marcee joined him, handing him a glass. "Some nights. Some nights it's exactly like TV... x-rated."

"Really? Any apartment in particular?"

"None I'll be pointing out to you." She clinked her glass against his and they drank.

"We should put the lights out, we could see better."

"Have I invited some dirty old man into my home?"

"I'm not that old," he laughed and then held up his glass. "You make a mean scotch on the rocks."

"Practice."

"Really? A lot?"

"Living alone has its downside."

He sipped the drink and stared across at the building and then at his cousin. "Why is that, living alone I mean?"

"For now, choice." Her tone indicated an end to that avenue of conversation. "Shall I get one of the cartons out?"

"What a seductress. Bone chilling walks. Magnificent vistas. Single malt scotch."

"I'll get a carton." She rose and left the room, returning with a carton the size of a breadbox. "This has some of the stuff we already saw at the house." She set the box on the table in front of them and opened the flaps. A musty odour struck them both at the same time.

"Whew, never noticed that at the house."

"I hope it's because my place is so much fresher." Marcee dug inside and brought out the bundle of letters that had been tied with a ribbon. "This is the batch we started looking at."

Walter accepted a couple of envelopes and opened the first. "This is from Angus Lauder to Charlotte." He read for a moment and then replaced it. "Just keeping in touch stuff. Nothing exciting." He opened the second and repeated the process. "Nothing there either. You find anything?" Marcee didn't answer, her eyes tracked across the yellowed sheet with a focused intensity. "More than me apparently." He slid across the sofa and glanced over her shoulder.

"This is a letter to Angus from a Benjamin..." She tilted the paper and squinted. "...Percy or Percle or something. I can't make it out. It's about a bequest from a person or organization- the damn name is right on the crease. I can't read it either."

"Forget that. What's it about?"

"Whomever, seems to have left the Lauder clan the rights to some property. According to the writer, Angus is the next in line to take possession. It says he has to travel to..." She tilted the paper again. "...is that Loch Bleman or Belman? What is that?"