"You have looked after him properly." Gemma knelt to stroke the cat. "He's certainly made a dramatic recovery."

Kincaid switched on Jasmine's lamps and had just opened the blinds when the first knock sounded at the door. Theo Dent, the Major, and Felicity Howarth stood huddled together in the awkward silence common to strangers in a lift. Kincaid greeted them and had closed the door and taken their coats when a second knock announced more arrivals. He admitted Margaret Bellamy, who was out of breath and considerably more disheveled than she'd appeared at the inquest, and behind her, to Kincaid's delight, Roger Leveson-Gower. Kincaid met Gemma's eyes across the room and knew they shared the same thought-for five people to exhibit such promptness was decidedly unnatural. They must be very anxious indeed.

"Something wrong with Her Majesty's post," said Roger, immediately taking center-stage, "that you felt it necessary to cause everyone such inconvenience? Or do you just like to play petty dictator?"

Kincaid smiled. "I don't remember inviting you."

Roger draped a proprietary arm across Meg's shoulders, and she seemed to shrink into herself as he touched her. "Someone had to make sure Margaret wasn't bullied."

"And you were the obvious choice?"

"Well, of course," Roger said, the dig going over his head. Or rather past his ego, Kincaid thought nastily.

Ignoring Roger, he turned to the rest of the group. Felicity had pulled out one of the dining chairs and sat in her usual erect posture, but something about the set of her head telegraphed weariness. The Major took a cue from her and sat as well, turning his cap in his hands, his blue eyes fixed on Kincaid's face. Theo stood alone, nervously popping his braces with his thumbs.

Kincaid spoke to them all. "This shouldn't take long. I'm sorry if I've inconvenienced you. I know you think this is a bit dramatic but it seemed the most practical way to go about things." He paused, making sure he had their full attention. "And it seemed right to me that Jasmine's intent should be conveyed to you in a more personal way. A letter comes in the post-" he shrugged, "you might as well have won the pools. These are not anonymous gifts. Jasmine thought very carefully about what she wanted to do for each of you. In a way, this is her last communication."

Kincaid swallowed against a tightening in his throat. He hadn't rehearsed what he would say and his own words took him by surprise, as did the sense of finality they carried.

Meg's eyes filled with tears and she moved out of Roger's encircling arm. Kincaid started to speak to her, hesitated and turned to Theo instead. "Jasmine didn't make you a cash bequest, Theo, but she did arrange to pay off the mortgage on the shop. She also made you the beneficiary of a tidy life insurance policy." Emotions flitted across Theo's round face-disappointment, dawning relief, and finally consternation, as if he weren't sure whether he'd been patted or punished.

"Meg. Except for a couple of small bequests, Jasmine left you the bulk of her estate, which includes the equity in this flat and her stock and bond investments." Roger pressed his lips together and blinked, but he didn't quite manage to hide the flash of pleasure on his face. Meg simply looked more miserable than ever.

"Mrs. Howarth and Major Keith," Kincaid continued, "Jasmine left each of you a thousand pounds, in "appreciation of your friendship," and she also made a donation to the RSPCA. That's it, I'm afraid. I have copies for each of you." He gestured at the neat stack he'd placed on the dining table. "If you'd just-"

"It's not right." Felicity's face had gone almost as pale as the white blouse she wore under her charcoal jacket, and she shook her head vehemently from side to side. "I can't accept that. It was my job to look after her, I never expected-"

"Nor I." The Major stood, crumpling his tweed cap between his blunt fingers. "Not fitting. Bad enough for her to be taken so soon, but to benefit by her death-" He stopped, looked round the room as if someone might give him the words to continue, then said, "Excuse me," turned abruptly and let himself out the door.

In the moment of silence that followed, Kincaid heard the vibration from the slam fade away.

Meg took a step toward the door. "Oh, can't someone do something? Talk to him? I'm sure Jasmine never meant for him to take it so… she only wanted to thank him for his kindness."

"Don't be daft." Roger's contempt was evident. "I'm sure he'll come to his senses soon enough."

Kincaid spoke to Felicity. "I don't know if you can legally refuse a bequest. You'll have to discuss it with Jasmine's solicitor. You would certainly have the prerogative of using the money as you pleased-donate it to a charity, perhaps, if that made you feel more comfortable."

"Nothing is going to make me feel comfortable about this. I simply will not accept it." Felicity's rising voice was the first crack Kincaid had seen in her professional demeanor.

Meg knelt before her chair and looked earnestly up into her face. "Jasmine talked so much about how good you were to her, how much she appreciated your honesty. "No nonsense" was the way she put it." Smiling at the memory, Meg continued. "She liked that. You were the one person she could trust to play it straight with her. Most of us failed her. It's much easier to pretend it will just go away." Meg leaned back on her heels and looked away, picking at the fabric of her skirt. "Even when she talked about killing herself, I never quite believed in it-couldn't make it seem real. It was like something in a movie or a play." She looked around at all of them except Roger. "Do you see?"

"Yes," said Theo. He had stopped the nervous fiddling with his braces as he listened to Meg, and now he slid into a chair at the other end of the table and leaned forward on his elbows. "It was just the same for me. I should have known, when she said she was better but she wouldn't see me. I should have insisted, come to London and camped on the doorstep until she let me in, done what I could for her." He lifted his hands in a helpless shrug. "I'm sure she knew I'd take the easy way-I always have. Jasmine was always there-annoyed with me, more often than not," he smiled, "but there, and I didn't want to believe things would ever change." Theo paused and studied Meg. "I'm glad my sister knew you, Margaret. You didn't fail her."

"Didn't I?" asked Meg, meeting Theo's eyes.

Roger rolled his eyes in disgust. "This is all just too sweet for words. I think I'm going to be sick."

The spell shattered. Meg looked away from Theo, then down at herself, and Kincaid could see her self-consciousness flooding back as she became aware of her awkward position. As she tried to rise, her heel caught in the hem of her skirt with a ripping sound. She fell back to her knees, grimacing.

Felicity said, "Here, let me help you." She seemed to have regained some of her composure as she listened to Meg and Theo, and now she moved briskly back into her familiar role. Kneeling on the floor, she gently extricated Meg's heel from the torn hem. "All right, now? I'm afraid it will take a needle and thread to put you completely to rights."

Roger folded his arms and said with exaggerated patience, "If you're quite finished, Margaret?" but he made no move to help her up.

Felicity stood, held out a hand to Meg, then gathered her handbag off the chair. She turned to Kincaid and spoke slowly and deliberately, as if she'd been rehearsing her words. "Mr. Kincaid. I'm sorry about all the fuss. It was unfair of me to lash out at you. I do realize it's not your responsibility, and I'll take whatever steps necessary to sort this out."

"You'll see Antony Thomas? Or perhaps your own solicitor?"

"Yes. Just as soon-"

"How long will it take?" Roger broke in. "Probate, I mean."