“No member of the firm was. A copy wasn’t sent to us at the time it was made, and neither we nor the family were aware of its existence until three days after Peregrine Westhall died, when Candace found it in a locked drawer in a cabinet in the bedroom where the old man kept confidential papers. As you may have been told, Peregrine Westhall was given to drawing up wills when he was in the same nursing home as his late father. Most were codicils in his own hand and witnessed by the nurses. He seems to have taken as much pleasure in destroying them as he did in writing them. I imagine the activity was designed to impress upon his family that he had power at any time to change his mind.”

“So the will wasn’t hidden?”

“Apparently not. Candace said there was a sealed envelope in a drawer in the bedroom cabinet to which he kept the key under his pillow.”

Dalgliesh said, “At the time it was signed, was her father still able to get out of bed unaided to put it there?”

“He must have been, unless one of the servants or a visitor placed it there at his request. No one in the family or household admits to knowledge of it. Of course, we have no idea when it was actually placed in the drawer. It could have been shortly after it was drawn up, when Peregrine Westhall was certainly capable of walking unaided.”

“To whom was the envelope addressed?”

“No envelope was produced. Candace said she’d thrown it away.”

“But you were sent a copy of the will?”

“Yes, by my brother. He knew that I would be interested in anything concerning my old clients. Perhaps he wanted to make me feel I was still involved. This is getting close to a cross-examination, Commander. Please don’t think I’m objecting. It’s some time since I was required to use my wits.”

“And when you saw the will, you had no doubt about its validity?”