Lord Peter Views the Body by Dorothy L. Sayers Page A

for the monstrous injustice of Uncle Meleager’s other will, and mother being so ill, I shouldn’t take any steps. But when there is £250,000, and the prospect of doing real good with it—’
        ‘Naturally,’ said Lord Peter, ‘it isn’t the money you care about, as the dear old bromide says, it’s the principle of the thing. Right you are! Now supposin’ we have a look at Uncle Meleager’s letter.’
        Miss Marryat rummaged in a very large handbag and passed the paper over.
        This was Uncle Meleager’s letter, dated from Sienna twelve months previously:
     
    ‘My dear Hannah, – When I die – which I propose to do at my own convenience and not at that of my family – you will at last discover my monetary worth. It is, of course, considerably less than you had hoped, and quite fails, I assure you, adequately to represent my actual worth in the eyes of the discerning. I made my will yesterday, leaving the entire sum, such as it is, to the Primrose League – a body quite as fatuous as any other in our preposterous state, but which has the advantage of being peculiarly obnoxious to yourself. This will will be found in the safe in the library.
        ‘I am not, however, unmindful of the fact that your mother is my sister, and you and she my only surviving relatives. I shall accordingly amuse myself by drawing up today a second will, superseding the other and leaving the money to you.
        ‘I have always held that woman is a frivolous animal. A woman who pretends to be serious is wasting her time and spoiling her appearance. I consider that you have wasted your time to a really shocking extent. Accordingly, I intend to conceal this will, and that in such a manner that you will certainly never find it unless by the exercise of a sustained frivolity.
        ‘I hope you will contrive to be frivolous enough to become the heiress of your affectionate
        ‘Uncle Meleager’
     
        ‘Couldn’t we use that letter as proof of the testator’s intention, and fight the will?’ asked Mary anxiously.
        ‘’Fraid not,’ said Lord Peter. ‘You see, there’s no evidence here that the will was ever actually drawn up. Though I suppose we could find the witnesses.’
        ‘We’ve tried,’ said Miss Marryat, ‘but, as you see, Uncle Meleager was travelling abroad at the time, and he probably got some obscure people in some obscure Italian town to witness it for him. We advertised, but got no answer.’
        ‘H’m. Uncle Meleager doesn’t seem to have left things to chance. And, anyhow, wills are queer things, and so are the probate and divorce wallahs. Obviously the thing to do is to find the other will. Did the clues he speaks of turn up among his papers?’
        ‘We hunted through everything. And, of course, we had the whole house searched from top to bottom for the will. But it was quite useless.’
        ‘You’ve not destroyed anything, of course. Who were the executors of the Primrose League will?’
        ‘Mother and Mr Sands, Uncle Meleager’s solicitor. The will left mother a silver teapot for her trouble.’
        ‘I like Uncle Meleager more and more. Anyhow, he did the sporting thing. I’m beginnin’ to enjoy this case like anything. Where did Uncle Meleager hang out?’
        ‘It’s an old house down at Dorking. It’s rather quaint. Somebody had a fancy to build a little Roman villa sort of thing there, with a verandah behind, with columns and a pond in the front hall, and statues. It’s very decent there just now, though it’s awfully cold in the winter, with all those stone floors and stone stairs and the skylight over the hall! Mother said perhaps you would be very kind and come down and have a look at it.’
        ‘I’d simply love to. Can we start tomorrow? I promise you we’ll be frivolous enough to please even Uncle Meleager, if you’ll do your bit, Miss Marryat. Won’t we, Mary?’
        ‘Rather! And, I say, hadn’t we