“She was very wealthy; left about £30,000. The whole goes by her will, to her nephew, John Ralph Jephson. My firm has, however, been instructed by Mrs. Ralph Jephson, the widow of another nephew who died two years ago——”
“Two years ago?” I exclaimed.
“Yes—we have been instructed by her to contest the will on the ground of undue influence. We have accordingly entered a caveat, but, to be frank with you, I fear we have not much evidence to go on. We know that the late Miss Glasson entertained a very strong affection for Ralph Jephson, and always intended to make him her devisee and legatee—she had no power to dispose of her property except by will—but she was living with her nephew, George Ralph Jephson, and had been bedridden for some time. He kept away every other relative from his house. He took this place in Ireland, brought her hither, and it was not until the announcement of her death that her other relatives knew of her whereabouts. It chanced that your late clerk was given the draft caveat to make a clean copy of it for lodgment in the office of the Court, and the name attracting his attention he mentioned to my head clerk the scene he had witnessed in Miss Glasson’s room. The clerk related the story to me, and that accounts for my presence here to-day. I fear,” added Mr. Wrexham, after a pause, “that a fraud has been perpetrated, and that the will for which probate is sought does not express the wishes of the deceased lady.”
“Who prepared and witnessed the will?” I asked.
“A solicitor and his clerk.”
“And the solicitor?”
“A young fellow named Devaney; he lives in the next county—do you know him?”
“He was admitted as a solicitor the same time as I.”
“Mr. Jephson seems to have a preference for young practitioners,” said Mr. Wrexham, with a smile, and he added: “Do you happen to know anything about Devaney?”
“Well, I have heard he does little business, and he is, I fear, addicted to drink. Otherwise he is a good fellow.”