Penberthy had a nice, warm handclasp. The Monday Bunch began to make hasty excuses for leaving. Pat—was it Pat?—went out waving the photo of Sophie and promising, “All over town by nightfall!” which made Penberthy blink after her.

“Sophie’s missing. Margot’s cat,” explained Betsy. “They’re going to put up posters.”

“I hope you get her back,” said Mr. Penberthy politely, and followed her through the shop and up the back stairs to the apartment.

The lawyer declined the offer of a cup of coffee or a cookie, saying his supper was waiting.

He took a chair at the little round table in the dining nook and opened his briefcase.

“How much do you know about your’s sister’s financial condition?” he asked.

“Almost nothing,” replied Betsy, and when she saw him notice how her fists were clenched on the table, she dropped them into her lap.

“Do you know the names of any heirs besides yourself?” he asked.

“I don’t think there are any.”

Penberthy nodded. “Yes, Margot once told me there was only her sister. That’s the reason I could not persuade her to make a will, because everything was going to come to you in any case.” He pulled a thick file folder with the name Margot Berglund on it from his briefcase. Betsy stared at it, then at Mr. Penberthy, who was smiling.

“This won’t take long,” he reassured her. “Most of the papers in here have to do with her ongoing quarrel with Mr. Mickels, the owner of this building.”

“Yes, Margot told me about him, about how he’s trying to get her to move out and suing her for things. She said you were taking care of all that.” She added bitterly, “But I suppose he’s won, now.”

“That is not the case at all,” he said.

Betsy hastily suppressed a triumphant smile. “I don’t see how,” she said.

“Well, first of all, there is this rather strange lease,” said Penberthy, picking quickly through the documents and finding it. It had been typed as an original on ordinary typing paper, rather than filled in as a form or properly done on legal-size paper. “This lease was, I believe, drawn up rather carelessly, probably by the original owner himself. It is my opinion that the lessor at that time felt the lessee would not stay the full term of the lease.” A glance showed she did not understand, and he started again. “That is, I don’t think the original Mr. Mickels thought your sister would stay in business very long. That’s why the rent was set so low, and that’s why there are some curious omissions in the terms of the lease. For example, he failed to include a restriction on the assignment of the lease. That’s where the current situation arises.” Again he noticed she didn’t understand.

“Normally a lease will state that the lessee—the renter—can’t turn the lease over to someone else without the prior, written consent of the lessor—the landlord. This lease does not have that restriction. When your sister incorporated, she assigned the lease to the corporation, so it remains in force.”