Writer's Notebook

'Well James, father's placed a great responsibility on your shoulders. I hope you live up to his expectations.'

'As you know my dear Sis, nobody ever lived up to father's expectations. No, in fact, I'll be making quite a few changes now that I'm in charge of the company.'

'Does that include looking around for a new chief financial officer.'

'Well, the thought had crossed my mind. But on reflection I may well decide to keep you on. Heavens! What are you doing with that?'

'It was father's. He gave it to me just before he died. Said I'd be needing it in this cut-throat world. But don't look so worried my dear James, I don't intend using it, not on you at any rate. I've got other plans for you. However, if ever I did use it, I should be very careful. As you see, I only ever handle it, when wearing gloves. Kindly put it in Dad's desk for me will you. There's a compartment in the top drawer. And make sure you lock it properly.'

James and Elizabeth continued exchanging little banalities for another thirty minutes or so before James decided it was time to get back to his wife.

'You've never seemed in such a hurry to go to her before. No pretty little secretaries to satisfy this evening. Oh yes, of course, Gloria is on holiday this week, isn't it. I'm sure Lucy must be immensely pleased. She must think Christmas has come two months early.'

She smiled to herself as James stormed out of the room. She knew full well, Lucy was the last person he would go to now. But she would go and see her fragile little sister in law. Over the past few months they had become great friends. Lucy had taken her into her confidence as regards the suspicions she had. Elizabeth had said nothing to confirm or deny such suspicions. She had just tried to be comforting, awaiting such an opportunity as this. She crossed the room and with her still gloved hands opened the lock to the compartment in father's desk. Taking out the revolver she placed it carefully in her handbag. It would all be so easy. Lucy would open the door, welcome her in and promise her a nice cup of tea. One quick, clean shot to the heart, and no one to witness it. She'd registered the gun as having been stolen, some two days previous. And now they'd find it with David's print's on the gun and on the lock to the compartment.