Last hurrah

Chapter 2-1 hereChapter 2-3 here



The Jennies had agreed to bring Leyton Young into it, plus his wife, they’d been reticent at first but eventually saw they had a far better chance of staying alive with his input, unlike Mandy Harrison unfortunately who had succumbed to whoever was watching the whole show and removing those who’d been compromised.

Five people were at or near the computer in the DI’s second house and Laura had brought up the news report onscreen.

‘Jennies A and B,’ asked Laura, ‘do either of you two know anything about this?’

Onscreen was shot after shot of a man suspended in a harness under Blackfriar’s Bridge. He was alive and gesticulating, unlike a former banking man under that bridge. Maybe the same organization. Below him, dangling by a cord, was a Gladstone bag.

‘They say the bag was empty,’ she added.

‘They would,’ said Jenny A. ‘What a pity if copies reached Breitbart, Instapundit, Huffpost and a dozen others, plus two hundred bloggers in eight countries. Because those writers might ask where the contents of the Gladstone bag had got to – the documents and the photos everyone now has copies to.’

‘And,’ added Laura, ‘if shots of those documents also made their way to Facebook and Twitter before they could be taken down -’

‘Youtube too.’

‘But what about this one, girls …’ She brought up photos of Mrs Harrison’s staff, all with crosses etched into their foreheads, ‘you don’t feel that was a bit OTT?’

‘Gosh, whoever did that did it very lightly, just scratches. But it would still make anyone think twice about taking on anyone called Jenny.’

‘It would, but it would also tip someone over the edge who need only hire a long range weapon. Even on a boat you’re not safe.’

‘We are. We’re good at that type of thing.’

‘I don’t know, here you are, legs crossed, sweet and demure, sipping on tea.’

‘We know. We’re angels.’


The Harrison incident did not make any headlines and that stayed their hand but the Blackfriars suspension hit the fan all over the world. By the time the D notices and injunctions had descended, it was all about as private as a Ryan Giggs or Jeremy Clarkson injunction.

There was no mention of the girls and perhaps that would have helped them if it had been mentioned. Laura felt that some of those names were going to fork out big to hire the best to take care of the Jennys.

Miles’s patron phoned about the possibility of hiring her, still unaware they were in stereo but Miles explained she didn’t do hits anymore, only compromising and theatre. That’s what the patron had in mind. Miles promised to put it to her and get back by day end.

They were right there on the divan at that moment so he laid out the probable scenario. Laura was chafing at the bit too because that was precisely the sort of thing which had been her speciality. She asked if they’d take her along.

Jenny B grinned, mainly because she knew Miles would say no. However, something in Laura’s eye, the look she reserved for these occasions, told him to backtrack or it might create a situation.

‘But look at it, Laura, love, you’re out of practice, out of condition, so am I – there are things you’d need to do …’

He saw her look and stopped. ‘All right, all right … but it’s going to be planned to the nth degree.’

‘Whenever do we not?’ asked Jenny B.

He phoned back. ‘That lunch invitation – very kind. When?’

‘Ah, good Miles, good.’ He gave details.


It was getting on for a fortnight. The luncheon had been had, his patron disappointed Laura had not attended but when told there were three girls involved, not one, a grin spread across his chubby face.

‘Not happy about that, are you?’ he chuckled. ‘Dear wife one of them. And the third?’

This was the moment. The girls had thought long and hard about it – it had been to their advantage earlier to be seen as one but now there might be menace in a known tag team. So they’d agreed to let Miles tell and now he did. ‘There’s a sister called Sarah. We call her Jenny A.’

‘Doesn’t ring a bell.’

‘The girls are twins.’

‘Well I’ll be.’ A grin spread across his face again. ‘That’s going to be expensive.’

‘You agreed to pay for two, the twins are one fee.’

‘Hmmmm, let’s see how they do, I might be in a good mood after it.’

There was a lot of negotiating, the patron wanted some of his key men in there, the girls wanted space to do their thing as well, Miles supplied details of some of their cases, the patron was impressed.

Diagrams were pored over, training would be all of two weeks. Miles put them straight on one thing. ‘I’m sure you know this, ladies, but while you were taking the Crown shilling, you had what the Russians call razresheniya or permission to kill. You don’t have that any more and anything you do can be a crime. This does not bother my patrons but it can come back on you. Plan it so that you do nothing but incapacitate.’

‘Did we not do that last time?’ He owned that. Then Jenny mentioned the obvious: ‘And how do your .600 Nitro and Laura’s M72 fit into your definition of legal?’ They had him.

Jenny B thawed. ‘The business with the helicopter could be called self-defence, though why you had that firepower in the first place would need explaining. We admit the crosses in the foreheads crossed the line.’


So, here was the night and people had moved to prearranged places. Miles would man the phones on his fastest launch – observers might have concluded he was being put out to pasture but no matter. Laura got round it by saying that the ‘mastermind’ had to remain in position, also the ‘main breadwinner’ – only the best butter from Laura. She was like a kid again.

There was a dinner. What the patron had liked was their plan to do this a little bit more cleverly, not just wade in with the Tommy guns and blast away, it took the heat off him and got the job done at the same time, in no uncertain terms. Mind you, he said, he had to show cojones somewhere during the show, otherwise they’d think he’d gone soft.

Laura had sailed dangerously close by saying he was now not going to be seen just as a meathead – Miles had winced – but as a clever meathead. He’d bought that, he’d let her have that one.

At this dinner was a who’s who of the underworld – no one was to actually fire until fired upon – if it ever came to an investigation, that point had to be quite clear. Laura had wanted to use the LAW again and even the patron’s boys had smiled at that. Miles had suggested the Nitro would do the job. The boss was itching to try them all out, for as he continually pointed out, it had cost him deep in the purse.

It was the overkill everyone liked because overkill actually saves lives, it doesn’t create a general small arms bloodbath, difficult to clean up.

Plan was this – the map said the dinner was on the second floor of a club’s quarters, but those quarters were not on any main drag, they were tucked away in a sidestreet. It all had to be done quickly, within fifteen minutes, so a fire engine was thought best – pull up, hole in the wall via Laura’s beloved rocket, fire ladder extended, everyone inside, patron’s men first, girls second, the torpedoes would obviously fire and be taken out, the suits who’d caused the patron trouble would be left tied there, all sorts of incriminating documents lying about on them, the women would be taken back down the ladder, enough money would be sent by mail on the Monday to the club to cover repairs.

The patron’s own men had their plexishields and suits, the girls didn’t need them, apart from vests and helmets.


Those who love gunbattles were going to be disappointed. Sure, one of the principals tried to make it out the back door, pulled a gun and that was his last act on earth, his papers were left over his body but apart from him, it went off as expected and hoped for.

On the signal, Miles contacted Young who’d been misdirected to be two blocks away and vehicles had been ‘inconveniently parked’ at either end of the street to help, just in case. The vehicles now conveniently removed themselves from the direction the DI would come, the two at the other end were left as observers.

Laura and the Jennies took a B&B for two nights, they got in some shopping at a local Arndale or whatever they called it now, no contact, there was no helicopter, they went by train, separately, to meet a runabout at a prearranged point, one of Miles’s employees.


The boat pulled up alongside the launch, the ladder was dropped down, up came the three and into the wheelhouse, Miles gave each a hug in turn. Lunch was ready – cold cuts and salad, vino, torte for dessert, coffee.

The question of the money came up, Miles explained that it was not a good idea for the girls to be caught with that sort of money on them, it would be forthcoming and soon.


And so it was. Miles was pulled over on the way to visit the DI, only instead of being kidnapped, he recognized the car and had got in, a bulging envelope was shoved in his hand. Plus a message of thanks.

The DI was in good spirits to. He’d nabbed three who’d not even been on his immediate list, plus the one who had, his own stocks were high in the department and now he had news for Miles.

‘Harrison himself, plus eight of his Ring, his Ring mind, we never expected such a thing,’ Miles did not want to set him straight on this, ‘were headed for a stretch before the Word came down.’

‘Not prosecuted then?’

‘Come on Miles, get real. If that had happened, your own position on the boat and your mobile call would have been scrutinized, also where your women were that night. Also your enforced meeting with a certain car as well.’

Miles allowed a smile. ‘Ah.’

‘Just who do you think you’re dealing with here?’ But it was a gentle reminder.

‘Any plans for a repeat?’ asked Young. ‘I could quite get to like this.’

‘You know there can’t be for months. Also, I’m not sure I like the girls involved – it was tough enough keeping them away from this one.’

‘You did keep them away from this one then?’

‘Most assuredly,’ he had to say.

‘The Daniels girls and Mrs. Forrester,’ he wrote down on his pad, ‘not involved in any way. Now, that lunch you were kind enough to offer. It’s coming up to that time and there’s a nice little place around -’

‘I know, I know,’ accepted Miles.


‘Have we done enough damage to the Ring do you think?’ asked Laura in one of their pillow talks.

‘Of course not. That’s fantasyland.’

‘I want to put your mind at rest. With my own projects, I planned them, carried them out, knowing Amelie implicitly, even to where she’d be standing at all critical moments – and though I like the modus operandi of the girls, it’s still fitting in with someone else’s agenda on my part. My sense of safety and my ego is too large for that.’

‘Understood. And you want to do one of your own again.’

‘No you’re not listening – I said I wanted to put your mind at rest, that was no joke about having lost a yard – well I felt it, plus guns were never part of my milieu, mine was all drawing room stuff, intrigue. I’m not saying I wouldn’t do something like that again but look, Miles, I’m no gangster’s moll.’

‘Thanks, love.’

‘The Jennies will have to find their own living quarters, they’re enjoying the comfort zone too much and … well … it’s not doing either any good.’

‘Jenny B had a word with me, she knows that. Jenny A goes to Jan who’s back in Holland, let’s see how that pans out, Jenny B is going to do shorebound work from your old shop boat if you don’t mind, live aboard.’



It was the middle of summer when the first major negative raised its ugly head.

For months they’d all just got on with their work, Miles had secured a few new customers, had lost a couple, Laura and he had got the thing down to a fine art, she ran day to day operations, he found new customers and sometimes she did that part where a lady’s powers of persuasion were better.

Jenny B was still close to what she’d done before, but without the shooting, Jenny A and Jan were an item over in Holland. The two sisters phoned quite regularly but it wasn’t quite the same and Jenny B felt it.

Had there been a project going, he’d have let Jenny B go to it.

And now one appeared.

Someone had started scuttling boats. Apart from the cost of the boats, there was the loss of business, the skippers of those boats paid Miles the 5% as they always had and if the boat was in dry dock for repair they paid nothing – this is how they did things. But those boats were those men’s livelihoods and without those livelihoods, they were in trouble.

It was difficult enough during the transition from the EU to the new Britain – the greedy ghouls had got in of course and monopolized things and if anything, things were worse than how they’d been before – it was not easy and Miles was forever getting advice on how the regulations had changed yet again.

Now, to have boats scuttled – scuttled mind, not wear and tear or age – this was outrageous. He’d understand if they’d hit him via Laura or the Jennies, via some of his deals which didn’t affect any one else and it wasn’t as if the boats were more than 47% of the income – it was just that those innocent men were paying for his messing with the Man.

And it was not in a way which could be tracked – for weeks nothing happened – and then something else did. By the time the third boat had been sunk, it was time to have a conference of high-ups, plus Jenny B and one or two others.

The launch came into harbour, was docked, the guests came aboard by gangplank. They included one of his patrons, a risky gesture by the man to be seen away from his stronghold and openly associating with Miles.

Laura did them proud over dinner.

Long table cleared, they sat back and got on with the issue.

Patron spoke first. ‘This seems inside. You know and I know that if any of us twelve wanted … OK? No my friend, this is someone inside who has a working knowledge and he’s leaning on you. Were it something else, all boats would be on the riverbed by now. Put someone in charge of this.’

‘All right – a show of hands – do we put someone in charge? Those who think we need?’

All showed.

‘Second – is that person to be Jenny B?’

At that point, the patron asked if he could speak with Miles on deck. They went out, walking down towards the bow. ‘Why are you so sure about that girl?’

‘I’m not. I keep her close, to see her moves. But she’s a great bloodhound, with experience.’

‘Who’s on your list of those who might be doing this?’

‘Off the top, one of the patrons, as I call you – he sinks a few boats, salvages them, owns the business. Either of the Jennies, possibly A. Someone in Holland seems the most likely to me. Might be Laura who might feel she’s not her own boss any more, Jan is another I keep my eye on as he’s ambitious, it could even be the DI who might feel he’s been sold a pup.’

‘Any of your skippers? Any showing any signs?’

‘Not really, though I’ll have all of them in next and they might know of someone onboard.’

‘I’d appoint this Jenny for now, give her enough rope. Your decision though.’

They went back and sat down, their glasses had been refilled.

‘So to the vote. Those for Jenny looking into this?’

Hands begrudgingly went up.

Everyone departed and Laura and he made ready for bed.

Pillow talk time.

‘Why was I passed over?’

‘Same reason as me, love – you’re management.’

She stewed over that one. ‘All right. But I do know how to find things out.’

‘Listen love,’ he turned and faced her, ‘our patron asked why I was so sure about Jenny B, I said I wasn’t. I was going to watch her in action, give her enough rope. Let’s give her some weeks and if she achieves nothing, then you take over.’

‘OK, that’s fine. Yes, Jenny B must have rope enough but I’m going to put my money on it not being her, she’s too obvious and though she’s a difficult person, seems to me she might feel a sort of loyalty to you, to me too, to the organization as well now. I could be wrong, I’ve been wrong before, many times but she does strike me that way. The issue will be that if she does find that person – she might kill him … or her.’

‘I need to give her a twenty foot runabout, a longboat type and give her free rein to visit any boat at random. Think she’ll enjoy that.’

‘Anyone else on the horizon?’

‘Jan.’ He told her about van Groot.

‘And you employed him?’

‘Call it a vain folly. He does have the ability to run things, he has the steel to get things done.’

‘And the loyalty?’

‘Well, that remains to be seen.’

‘You knew I’d ask this – how high up on the suspect list am I?’

‘Very high.’


‘Think it through – who is the most adept and cunning but with none of my naivety, who has done this sort of thing many times in her work? For the record, I don’t think it’s you but there’s no operational reason why it couldn’t be.’

‘How about a little thing like marrying you, accepting you as my life? I’ve been thinking it might be you.’


‘Constructing a scenario to go off with Jenny B.’

‘Ok, point taken. I’m not going to use words for my reply, so prepare for a different kind of language.’

She smiled and awaited the first move.


It was 11 a.m. four days later when the Vera May went down to the gunwhales, the crew took the boat and rowed towards shore. Miles called for a full manifest, the skipper had brought the logs.

Both lodged reports at the nearest police station and signed them, Miles had a few surplus vessels just now so the skipper took over one of those. The skippers’ meeting had been postponed but would be at 4 p.m. today, on the launch.


The skippers were understandably not happy, they had a meeting, minus any but the skippers, the brainstorming brought all sorts of details out, quite a few miscreants were mentioned, no one of this calibre. Miles wanted to know if there was any turf war raging just now.

Two of them went silent at this, some looked away. Yes there was – details please.

Turned out that the first sinking might have been down to that feud, obviously the other skipper hotly denied it. It was also clear there was something else on their minds as well, boatmen aren’t the most subtle of men as a rule and as no one wished to speak, it was obviously delicate.

Miles took the bit: ‘Seems to me, gentlemen, that it might be one of four things – first is the patrons I do business with, second is my new wife, third is this girl, fourth might be the new assistant manager of operations de Vries.’

He’d certainly hit on it but which one?

Miles’s longest serving skipper spoke in as close to a respectful tone as he could muster. ‘I don’t hold with wimmin on boats, sir,’ much nodding, ‘but your own good lady has been fine, doesn’t interfere with operations, collects and is pleasant. She raises the blood of some of the crew and she enjoys that, what woman doesn’t?

It’s that girl, sir, she’s a caution. It was one thing before the sinkings started but now this one appearing in the dead of night, or just as the boats are going to sea – I can’t be having this, sir.’

There was a chorus.

‘Then she’ll stop.’ There was appreciative nodding all round. ‘However, if she stops, you have to give me another way to find out what’s going on. The police are not an option, as I think we’re all agreed. So I need suggestions.’

That was a step too far for the thinking processes of most of them, they were just happy the damned girl had been stopped.

‘I know the pressures on you each day, I know your thoughts are getting out and back safely, the bloody EU quotas, the new quotas, the actual catching and processing. You’ve no time for police work but if you don’t do some on your own boat, you’ll have no boat left. I’m running out of spare boats to give people.’

That last point was the one most likely to impress – they did see that they needed to clear this up themselves. Miles went on. ‘The damage, the scuppering, is being done at dockside or at least before the heads. It’s someone in your crews.’

Spoke up one: ‘If we could have sorted this, sir, we would have by now.’

‘All right, let’s move on – you two in this feud, would you let Tom here be the arbiter, he’s far enough from your own grounds not to be a player – you’d accept that? He’ll tell you the line and you’ll not cross it, not drift over it. Any objections? No? Thanks, lads.’

Tom stayed back and Miles was glad, light ales were provided.

‘Good lady not with you, sir?’

‘Thought it unwise, had a feeling the meeting might be like this.’

‘You’re a good franchiser, sir, may I call it that, but bringing wimmin into it …’ He shook his head and shuddered.

‘I know, it’s been corrected. Tell me the truth and I won’t hold it against you in any way, Tom, I need your honesty more than anything else – is Laura a problem?’

‘To be honest sir? No, she’s fine and the lads do like her visits, it’s fine there.’

‘Ok, then who’s the bastard doing this?’

‘Have you looked closer to home?’

‘Very much. Jenny -’

‘Not only. This Jan – he has big ideas, sir.’

‘I’m keeping him onside for now because it’s better than having a rival. There’ll be a fishing war before this is out.’

‘Not telling you your business but it doesn’t always work to appease. Sometimes you have to have the war and rules come out of that.’

‘I need grounds to dismiss him, Tom, I can’t just dump him without reason.’

‘We’ll find the reason, sir. And it will be the real reason, not made up.’

‘Is it that he’s Dutch?’

‘That’s part of it, he’s not straight. I see why you want someone Dutch – access to those ports – but he’s not the only Dutchman in Holland. Trouble is, you’ve given him the overview now, the plan of our operations and he can pick off anyone he wants.’

‘I hear what you say. I want you to feel you can call me any hour of night or day.’

‘Mighty decent of you.’

‘Our interests in this are the same. I’m going to keep him on for now but only in Holland, to be our man over there. Another ale?’

‘No thanks, have to be off.’

I’m perfectly happy for you to solve this your way now, Laura, because I sure can’t.’

‘You mean that? You’ll accept what I tell you, even if you think it’s jealousy on my part, resentment?’

‘I hope so.’

‘Miles, if I want to run this, it’s because my mind is more tortuous than yours, you’re for straight talk and all that – this person is no straight talker, he or she is a weasel and I know weasels.’

‘Do you know who it is?’

‘No, but we need to change tactics, as we’ve done before. The skippers need to invite me, not just tolerate me – you’ve said they don’t mind me. My job is to explore and I can only get away with that if there’s a real job I’m doing on those boats, maybe checking for annual repairs which need doing.’

‘Good, yes, you’ll do that too but on this matter, do it straight. We’ll get them in again and you’ll be upfront about wanting to explore the question.’



The skippers were assembled again one week after the last meeting, this time with the addition of Laura who’d put out little snacks of homemade sausage rolls and the like – she knew how to get to that sort of man. For all their talk of women on boats, they weren’t averse to this one.

‘With your permission, Laura has some ideas because we’ve not come up trumps as yet.’

‘I’m well aware,’ said Laura in a manner she’d perfected – not trying to be a man but very straight all the same, ‘that this is man’s business but my former work was in Europe, finding things out, putting ideas in heads, exposing wrongdoers.’ They glanced at Miles. ‘Someone is sinking these boats and it’s a crew member in each case. Seems to me there are a few crewmembers doing the physical part but someone else, someone they come into contact with, is putting the idea into their heads.

Now look, no one, not even a crewman, suddenly says, ‘Oh, I think I’ll just sink my boat today. There has to be a reason and there are, in my experience, usually two reasons. One is petty resentment – little things that that person has built up but it needs a second person to keep feeding the poison into his head. The other reason is money – someone is offering big money to that person to do the deed.

For me to do anything worthwhile on this matter, you have to want me there or there’s no point. To sweeten this and make it believable, what if I’m taken over each boat to see what immediate repairs are needed, engine serviced and so on. That will cost Miles some.’

There were nods of approval, Miles grunted, ‘You’ll get some of these done – don’t push it too far.’

Obviously the motion was carried unanimously.

‘How was I?’

‘You know you were bloody good.’

‘Make love to me.’


There were two sinkings on the same day and the pattern continued – it was never while the boat was outside the heads, it always happened inside the river and always before 4 p.m.

Miles and whoever the skipper was at the time were sick to death of having to go to the police station to submit reports and obviously the law was onto it in its own right.

Now who should turn up but DI Young, Miles welcomed him aboard, Laura went for the eats.

Young grinned. ‘Don’t you resent him sitting here, Laura, while you bring him food?’

‘He’ll have to do supper.’

There was a splintering of glass, something hit Miles in the chest. The other two dropped to the floor, Young pulling Miles to the floor too.

They turned him on his back, Young knew his training, they worked on him feverishly, calls were put through, police cars arrived at the quay, ambulance arrived, Laura rode in the back but everyone knew already.


The funeral was difficult enough but at least it was private, he’d mentioned that to her a few times, forensic had done their thing and Young was on the trail.

He was cremated and the ashes scattered at sea, easy enough to do from a boat, Laura didn’t know if she was coming or going, she was out of it as far as Jenny B could see.

It was over fairly quickly really and there was a wake for those on board that boat, that was all. There’d be a memorial service for the wider contacts and DI Young would take care of that.


The day of the reading of the will, Young thought it best to address two things on the one day and he’d asked Laura if she’d visit his home to talk about the sinkings.

She arrived about 10 a.m, she’d have a brunch with them now and then be driven to the solicitor’s. Young got straight down to it.

‘You’ve drawn a blank for the same reason Jenny did, plus Miles, plus me, plus anyone else.’ Put that way, she conceded this with an inclination of the head. ‘One place we didn’t really look in depth was EU subsidies.’

‘I did,’ she said, ‘they’re finished.’

‘And yet various EU members are still desirous of having the fishing grounds.’

‘Inspector, there’s an enormous, bottomless slush fund. I’ve often wondered where it actually came from – was it drugs, was it porn, white slaving, or was it that the old families have gathered this over millennia? If not millennia, then over hundreds of years? Whichever it is, there’s endless money but they’ve learnt only to show a certain amount to give the impression of scarcity.

To stop the English fishing, sink the boats. Someone on board is passed enough money to make it much more worth his while to sink the boat. I believe the skippers of those boats are in the know but I have no proof. When I’ve gone on board, I’ve looked for who the crew member is who exchanges any sort of glances with the skipper -’

‘Did you get anywhere?’

‘I think I did. I’ve tracked the crew manifests before, after a sinking and can give you the lists.’

‘I’d be most interested in those, thank you, my men can do that sort of rote checking. Give me, say, five days and let’s reconvene here for a second look. Now let’s eat and then we’ll have to go.’

The will was about to be read.

There was Miles’s solicitor, Mr. Pendlebury, facing twenty or so people in the room and no great surprises were expected.

The old chap began with the preliminaries and this was the first big shock – this Will was not the one which had stood for eight years, it was a new will drawn up, witnessed and signed a few weeks back and when Laura heard the date, she realized it was made soon after the sinkings had begun.

A few others there realized that too. The solicitor now got down to the details.

The patrons had been given an heirloom each, according to their tastes – Laura knew which went to whom, they would be appreciative.

Every skipper was to have a small gift Laura had kept in a cupboard, already labelled – Miles had always been thorough on such things. Tom’s was best. All had a nautical flavour. However, there was a most surprising stipulation – that any skipper who had received direct payment from the EU or any officers or former officers of the EU or any organization attached to it was to get nothing. Laura glanced at DI Young.

Three-quarters of the estate was to go to Laura, including the business – she’d assumed 50% was coming to her.

The minor bequests – cash sums to Jenny B and DI Young, not small ones either, Jenny B was shocked and gratified, Young was appreciative. Some to his old school, some to various parties she’d not heard about from the past. Chloe was to have some, some relatives of his and others were mentioned – good thing he actually had some assets, thought the patrons.

Another surprise – there was actually something for Jenny A and Jan but it was contingent on Jan not being in charge of any of the Forrester enterprises before at or after, it was also contingent on Jenny A not being charged with any wrongdoing. Strange stipulation.

The solicitor explained now in detail. The executors, jointly Laura and DI Young, were to make every attempt to distribute the estate, according to the provisions, within a two month period, i.e. there were to be no delays and if nothing untoward happened in that time, that would be the end of the matter, except for one thing – Laura would only get her portion if she agreed today, after the reading, to abide by Miles’s stipulations regarding her.

If she would not, then the portion of the estate coming to her would be held in trust by Mr. Pendlebury’s firm for up to one calendar year, at the end of which time there would be a meeting with Mr. Pendlebury and the two executors and Mr. Pendlebury said here and now that his intention would then be to grant her portion there and then.

Laura sat, staring. Young thought about cases he’d known. If it had been a divorce, she’d obviously have been entitled to a large portion under law, as his former wife, almost straight away. But this was not a divorce and Miles had actually increased her share, but also added the stipulations.

Mr. Pendlebury got onto the stipulations.

1. At the point the estate passed to her, she could not redistribute, in any form, any of the estate which had passed to her, not even as a gift. Obviously any of her own estate she could do as she pleased with.

Mr. Pendlebury explained to the room now that that provision was to preclude anyone pressurizing Mrs. Forrester for money, it was to protect her.

2. For a period of one calendar year from receipt of her portion, she could not alter her own will. That is, her will legally current at the point of Miles’s death was, for the purposes of this bequest to her, her only legal will.

Mr. Pendlebury reiterated that this provision lasted for one calendar year.

He further explained that of course, under law, no one could coerce her not to alter her will – she had every legal right to but if she did, then her portion immediately went to trust.

She looked at Mr. Pendlebury and said, ‘Of course I assent.’

‘The executors will remain for a few minutes, please, after the reading, if they’d be so good, and we’ll take care of the written form of this and other documents which need signing.

‘Now to other matters, ladies and gentlemen:

1. If, during the initial two months ‘paying out time’, one or both of the executors cannot pay out to one or more beneficiaries for some reason, they are to immediately request a meeting with me, Mr. Pendlebury, all fees eventually coming from the estate.

2. If either or both executors should file an objection with the solicitor, Mr. Pendlebury over some matter relating to their duties, the distribution process would be stopped that day and the clock on the one calendar year would resume once that was resolved.

Both executors agreed to that.

There was one last matter, people were getting restless, it had been a long reading but Mr. Pendlebury held that it was important.

‘Regarding the matter of the trust, my colleagues and the two executors are keen that there is no ambiguity. With Mrs. Forrester having accepted the stipulations, then any objections or challenges not stemming from those two would need to be on the basis that something illegal was done today.

Such a challenge would not succeed, in the opinion of my colleagues, were it on non-legal grounds. Any questions? No? Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.’

Chapter 2-1 hereChapter 2-3 here



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