The Last Will and Testament of Geralda Connors - Finish the Story #34

The Last Will and Testament of Geralda Connors

---

My name is Elisha Crow and I hate my job.

I'm waiting in my office, a sealed envelope before me on the mahogany desk.

I glance at the potted plant, plastic since the real ones keep dying on me. Then at my Harvard's law degree nailed to the wall.

Geralda Heather, nee Connors, died last week, alone in her villa. Her husband left her with twelve million bucks, which she held very close, and a vast hatred towards humankind, which she spread passionately. She died with locked doors and closed windows; dogs and gardener outside on the lawn. No signs of a struggle. She had a weak heart.

I adjust my special glasses and examine my guests.

Sprawled on the sofa as if it belonged to her alone, Brigitta Connors scowls at me. She disapproves of any skin color but her own, and I'm black, wearing a suit that she decided I've stolen. She's the victim's sister, but they weren't on speaking terms. She has the only spare keys to the villa and an alibi.

Sitting rigidly on the small chair near the window, once-violin-prodigy Pearl Heather wilts under my scrutiny. She ran away from home in her teens. She's bald, wrestling with one of the bad cancers. Lost her flat and savings to the medical bills. She's the victim's estranged daughter. She has no friends, no prospects, a pair of lovely eyes and a motive.

Shuffling his feet and glancing at the armchair wondering if it's all right to sit down is John Cotter, the gardener. Employed by the Heathers for fifty years, and they weren't kind people. He's the key witness and a stubborn one, insisting nobody came to visit on that fateful day.
My cell phone vibrates and I glance at the screen. Finally!

Aconite. How did you know, you old fraud.

It's Francine. So bright, so full of life. I wish she'd let me date her, but she's too smart for my cheap lies.

I type: 'I had a hunch, Fran.'

Bull. And I'm Lieutenant Brown to you. Where are they now?

'They're all here. I'm about to start.'

We'll be there in thirty minutes. None of your theatrics, you read me?

'Can't promise that.'

I'm warning you, Crow!

I put down the phone. Sighing, I take off my special glasses, clean them with a handkerchief and leave them on the desk.

I blink as my vision clears. I see Brigitta, looking bored and haughty. Pearl, gazing dreamily at the sky outside. John, who settled for balancing uncomfortably on the armrest.

And the pale specter of Geralda Connors, my client, staring at her killer. She's livid.

I hate my job. I wish it was a job I could quit. You can stop an investigation; you can exit a tribunal. But anywhere I run, I'll still be a psychic. And the dead can tell.

"Ladies and gentleman; thank you for coming," I begin. "Before I read the will, there's a story you need to hear."

---

My Entry:

---

“Have any of you heard of Resistive Energy?”

They all shake their heads. Ordinary people don’t know about the dead.

“Resistive Energy is when the spirit of a restless soul is trapped on this plain.”

The three of them have varying levels of interest in what i'm saying. But I continue talking.

“Now i’m telling you this to give you some context for the story. This story starts with a little girl. This little girl was five years old when she realised she had a curse. Or a gift as some might say. She could see people who had passed over. But not just anybody, no, she could only see the ones that had unresolved issues from the land of the living. Would any of you say that Geralda had any unresolved issues?”

I look at the three of them in turn gouging their reactions. Geralda comes into my view.

“What does this have to do with her will?”

Brigitta spits in my direction. I’m used to the tone and the look of hatred, it's something I’ve faced a lot in my career.

“Geralda believes she has unresolved issues. Most of those pertaining to her will. This will.”

I run my hands over the envelope.

“She believes she has divided it unfairly. Unfortunately for her there's nothing we can do to change that. Except, maybe catch the person responsible for her murder.”

The three faces look at me, each a different expression.

I open the envelope and read out the formal spiel in my best lawyer voice.

A noise outside my office interrupts me. The lieutenant walks in with two officers in uniform. From my perspective I can see the officers standing guard by the door, however my guests cannot.

I stand up.

“Fran it’s so good to see you.”

I walk around my desk and hold out my hand to her. She looks startled by my actions as always. It's difficult being a woman in a man's world. Both of us have learnt this lesson the hard way.

Someone in the room clears their throat. I survey my three suspects and then turn to the ghost of Geralda. She looks at me with disdain. I glance at my glasses considering putting them back on to remove her face from my sight.

“This is Lieutenant Brown.”

I introduce her to the three suspects. I watch her face as she greets each one. I can't help but admire her hair, the way it curls at the ends, just resting on her shoulders.

I was younger than most when I realised I was a lesbian. I’ve never shied away from that fact. I am a black, lesbian, lawyer and part time psychic.

“I’m sorry to interrupt processings but some new evidence has come to light about Mrs Connors death. She was poisoned with a plant called aconite, more commonly known as wolfsbane. Mr Cotter you know what this plant is, right?”

She scrutinises the man as he shrinks into his shoulders.

Geralda screeches for only my ears to hear.

“He knows exactly what it is. He’s been giving it to me for months.”

Fran had come to that conclusion as well.

John Cotter is handcuffed and escorted out of my office.

Brigitta looks pleased. Pearl looks confused.

I sit down behind my desk, exhausted. I replace my glasses and the apparition of Geralda Connors disappears.

“How about that drink tonight Eli?”

“Sure.”

I turn to the two women still in my office, both still speechless.

“Now which of you two would like to contest the Will?”

---

This is my entry to the @bananafish Finish The Story Contest.

Find out about the contest here.

Image from Pexels

_Divider.