Chapter 4: A Name That Shouldn't Exist
Marcus called back at half past nine.
Elodie was asleep.
The ward had gone quiet except for the soft machinery of the room and the occasional footstep in the corridor outside.
I answered on the first ring and moved to the window.
"The number is registered to a man named Geoffrey Crane," Marcus said.
"Sixty-three.
Semi-retired.
He ran a private legal practice out of Harwich for about twenty years.
Closed it down four years ago."
"A lawyer."
"Was a lawyer.
His license was suspended.
Misappropriation of client funds.
He avoided disbarment on a technicality but he hasn't practiced since."
I looked at Elodie's reflection in the dark glass of the window.
Still.
Breathing.
"What's his connection to my mother?"
"That's where it gets interesting." A pause.
Papers moving.
"His firm handled a probate case eleven years ago.
Estate of a man named Robert Calloway."
My father's name was Robert Calloway.
I didn't say anything.
"Daniel?"
"Keep going."
"The estate was valued at a little over four hundred thousand.
Property, savings, a small investment account.
According to the filing, the sole beneficiary was listed as Renata Calloway." Another pause.
"Your mother."
"That's not unusual.
He died.
She inherited."
"Right.
Except there was a second document filed six weeks before his death.
A revised will.
It named two beneficiaries.
Your mother and a minor child." Marcus stopped.
"The minor child's name was Elodie."
The monitor beeped.
I turned from the window.
"That's impossible," I said.
"Elodie wasn't born until two years after my father died."
"I know," Marcus said.
"That's what I thought.
So I pulled the original filing again." He exhaled slowly.
"Daniel, the Elodie named in that document isn't your daughter.
The full name listed is Elodie Crane.
Geoffrey Crane's daughter."
I sat down on the edge of the windowsill.
"My father had a daughter with Geoffrey Crane's — "
"With a woman named Pauline Crane.
Geoffrey's younger sister.
She passed away the year after your father did.
The child would be about nineteen now, if she's still alive."
I pressed my hand flat against the glass.
"And the will," I said.
"The revised will.
What happened to it?"
"It was superseded.
A third document was submitted ten days before your father died.
Signed, witnessed, and filed correctly.
It reverted everything back to your mother as sole beneficiary.
Crane's firm handled all three documents."
"He filed a will that cut out his own client's daughter."
"And charged your mother for the privilege, presumably."
I looked at Elodie.
My Elodie.
Seven years old with a collapsed lung and a stuffed rabbit and a grandmother who made her get out of bed when no one was watching.
"Why is my mother calling him now?" I said.
"After eleven years."
Marcus was quiet for a moment.
"I don't know yet," he said.
"But Crane filed a civil inquiry three weeks ago.
Someone is contesting the original probate settlement."
"Who?"
"The filing lists the claimant as anonymous, pending identity verification.
But Daniel — " He stopped.
"Say it."
"The inquiry was filed from an address in this city.
Whoever it is, they're not far away."
I stood up.
"Find them," I said.
"I'm working on it.
But Daniel — whatever your mother is trying to finish, she started moving on it before Elodie was admitted.
The inquiry was filed the same week."
I looked at the door to the room.
The same week Elodie was admitted.
The same week my mother had volunteered — insisted, actually — on staying at the hospital while I handled the insurance paperwork and the parking and the calls to my ex-wife who never answered.
"She wasn't here to help," I said.
May you like
"No," Marcus said.
"I don't think she was."
