Well-dressed in the careful way of someone who wanted to appear casual but had thought about it.
He had his father’s eyes, according to the photograph Hale had shown me.
He did not offer his hand.
“I want to be straightforward with you,” he said, settling into his chair.
“I have nothing against you personally.
I’m sure Eleanor was fond of you.
But a trust established by a woman with dementia, naming a beneficiary who can’t be conclusively identified, is not a valid legal instrument.”
“Your grandmother didn’t have dementia when she set it up,” I said.
“She was sixty-four.
The medical records from that year show no cognitive impairment.”
His expression didn’t change.
“Medical records can be interpreted in different ways.”
“So can motives,” I said.
“Your grandmother set up that trust because she knew what your father did.
What your family did.
She was trying to correct it.”
