‘Me? Really?’ Helen stared at him. ‘That’s just crazy! What am I supposed to do with them?’
‘Take control of the company.’
‘That’s a good one. Like I know what I’m doing. Who has the other shares, apart from my aunts?’
‘Various investors. A couple of names spring to mind. The bigger share positions are owned by a small handful. Arseni Stephanov, your uncle. A city bank.’ He sniffed again. ‘And one Derek Moody. You know him,’ he added when he caught her startled expression. ‘He sits on the board. A nasty piece of work, in my humble opinion.’
A thick silence descended on the room as Sweetman waited for her to say something.
‘Why me?’ she asked. ‘I don’t know anything about business. I haven’t even been to a board meeting yet. Aggie’s expecting me to be something I’m not. Like she always did.’
‘Did she really?’
Helen shrugged. Maybe she wasn’t being entirely fair. ‘She certainly expected me to fill some pretty big boots. All her talk about college and that. I just couldn’t get my head around it. I needed to find me first.’
‘And have you?’
‘I’m coming to terms with who I am, yes. I just can’t walk in my mother’s footsteps.’ The thought of how it had all ended for her mother made her shudder. ‘I need to do something a bit more … worthwhile with my life. Some good.’
‘It wasn’t your mother Mrs Ransome had in mind. It was your grandfather.’
Helen spluttered. ‘As if!’
‘Your grandfather was a decent human being. As are you. I expect Mrs Ransome only wanted you to do the right thing.’
Her lip quivered with emotion. This faith they had in her, her grandmother and the solicitor, how could she live up to it?
Sweetman, as always, read her mind. ‘I’ll be with you every step of the way. I’ll advise, guide, clear your path through the legal jungle, as it were. Be your right-hand man. That is, if you want me to represent you as I represented your grandmother. All you’ve got to do is say the word.’
She looked at him, at his white hair, his chubby face, and the striped shirt with armpit stains. Aggie had placed a lot of trust in this man, and if she could trust him, so could Helen. ‘Yes, I’d like that. Thank you.’
‘Good, good.’ He slapped some papers down in front of her. One sheet still bore the marks from his teeth. ‘Let’s get to the paperwork, then. This is a contract for my ongoing services. You just need to sign here.’ He flicked to the end of the document and put a pen in her hand. ‘This is a leaflet detailing our services, and here’s a breakdown of our fees.’
She was too stunned by this mixture of efficiency and blatant manipulation to do anything other than sign. The sheet with teeth marks was a will form.
‘Why do I need to make a will?’
‘Makes sense under the circumstances, don’t you think?’
She met his eyes and felt a shiver run down her spine. He wasn’t joking. Without quibbling, she filled in the missing parts of the will form, and passed the papers back to him.
‘Talking about wills, you say I’m the sole beneficiary in Aggie’s will. Won’t my aunts dispute that?’
‘When I said it was in your favour, I meant in the broadest sense. You get the shares, but there’s the house and some valuable possessions which’ll go to them. Sure, they can try, but they won’t look good in court. Two greedy, wealthy women questioning the kindness bestowed on a motherless child? Only a judge with a heart of stone would allow it. I think you’re safe on that score.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘And you’ll have me as a back-up. Now, doesn’t that fill you with confidence?’
As usual she couldn’t tell whether he was being ironic or not. There was something else she needed to ask him, something which had plagued her since she’d found that syringe in Ruth’s cardigan.
‘Is it possible for me to ask for a post-mortem to be performed on my grandmother?’
It was Sweetman’s turn to look surprised. He raised his bushy white eyebrows. ‘A post-mortem? What’s on your mind?’
‘Foul play.’
‘I see.’ He leaned back in his chair, which creaked under his weight. ‘Usually only a relative can request a post-mortem – and you’re not a relative in that sense – unless the death is considered traumatic, unusual or unexpected. Then the doctor signing the death certificate will instigate it. Your grandmother was old, and she was ill. Hardly unexpected.’
‘But it was so sudden.’