Ход королевы
Chapter 12
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InthepileofmailwaitingforherathomewereseverallettersfromMichaelChennault,thelawyerwhohadarrangedforthedeedtothehouse.Itseemedtherewassomekindofproblem;shedidnotyethavecleartitleorsomething.AllstonWheatleywascreatingdifficulty.WithoutopeningtherestofthemailshewenttothephoneandcalledChennault’soffice.
Thefirstthinghesaidwhenhecameonthelinewas“Itriedtogetyouthreetimesyesterday.Where’veyoubeen?”
“InParis,”Bethsaid,“playingchess.”
“Howsweetitmustbe.”Hepaused.“It’sWheatley.Hedoesn’twanttosign.”
“Signwhat?”
“Title,”Chennaultsaid.“Canyougetoverhere?We’vegottoworkitout.”
“Idon’tseewhyyouneedme,”Bethsaid.“You’rethelawyer.Hetoldmehe’dsignwhatwasnecessary.”
“He’schangedhismind.Maybeyoucouldtalktohim.”
“Ishethere?”
“Notintheoffice.Buthe’sintown.Ithinkifyoucouldlookhimintheeyeandremindhimyou’rehislegaldaughter…”
“Whywon’thesign?”
“Money,”thelawyersaid.“Hewantstosellthehouse.”
“Canthetwoofyoucomeheretomorrow?”
“I’llseewhatIcando,”thelawyersaid.
Shelookedaroundthelivingroomafterhangingup.ThehousestillbelongedtoWheatley.Thatwasashock.Shehadbarelyseenhiminit,andyetitwasinfacthis.Shedidnotwanthimtohaveit.
