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before the arrangements by my beneficiaries, then shall all that has gone
before be null and void, and I direct that then my entire estate be bequeathed
to the Chancellor of the Exchequer."
Martin Pound looked up. Privately he was surprised to learn of his late
friend's fears and fancies, but he gave no sign of it.
"Now, Mrs. Armitage, I have to ask you formally; do you object to the wishes
of your late brother as expressed in paragraph seven?"
"It's stupid," she replied, "burial at sea, indeed. I didn't even know it was
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allowed."
"It is extremely rare, but not illegal," replied Pounc have known of one case
before."
"It'll be expensive," said her son, "much more than a cemetery burial. And
why not cremation anyway?"
"The cost of the funeral will not affect the inheritance," said Pound
testily. "The expenses will come out of this." He tapped the L5000 at his
elbow. "Now, do you object?"
"Well, I don't know ...
"I have to point out to you that if you do, the inheritance is null and
void."
`WVZX &M kv-&k mta-AT'
"The state gets the lot," snapped her husband. "Precisely," said Pound.
"'No objection," said Mrs. Armitage. "Though I think' it's ridiculous."
"Then as next of kin will you authorize me to make the arrangements?" asked
Pound.
Mrs. Armitage nodded abruptly.
"The sooner the better," said her husband. "Then we can get on with the
probate and the inheritance."
Martin Pound stood up quickly. He had had enough. "That constitutes the final
paragraph of the will. It is duly signed and witnessed twice on every page.
I think therefore there is nothing more to discuss. I shall make the
necessary arrangements and contact you in respect of time and place. Good day
to you."
The middle of the English Channel is no place to be on a mid-October day
unless you are an enthusiast. Mr. and Mrs. Armitage contrived to make
perfectly plain before they had cleared the harbour mole that they were
definitely not.
Mr. Pound sighed as he stood in the wind on the afterdeck so as not to have
to join them in the cabin. It had taken him a week to make the arrangements
and he had settled on a vessel out of Brixhani in Devon. The three fishermen
who ran the inshore trawler had taken the unusual job once they were satisfied
over the price and assured they were breaking no law. Fishing the Channel
provided slim pickings these days.
It had taken a block and tackle to load the half-ton coffin from the rear
yard of the Kentish undertakers onto an open-backed one-ton van, which the
black limousine had followed throughout the long haul down to the south-
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throughout. At Brixhani the van had drawn up on the I quayside and the
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trawler's own davits had brought the
coffin aboard. It stood now athwart two beams of timber on the wide
afterdeck, waxed oak and polished brass gleaming under the autumn sky.
Tarquin Armitage had accompanied the party in the limousine as far as
Brixham, but after one look at the sea had elected to stay within the warm
confines of a hostelry in town. He was not needed for the burial at sea in any
case. The retired Royal Navy chaplain whom Pound had traced through the
chaplaincy department of the Admiralty had been happy enough to accept a
generous stipend for his services and now sat in the small cabin also, his
surplice covered by a thick overcoat.
The skipper of the trawler rolled down the deck to where Pound stood. He
produced a sea chart which flapped in the breeze, and pointed with a
forefinger at a spot twenty miles south of start point. He raised an eyebrow.
Pound nodded.
"Deep water," said the skipper. He nodded at the coffin. "You knew him?"
"Very well," said Pound.
The skipper grunted. He ran the small trawler with his brother and a cousin;
like most of these fishermen, they were all related. The three were tough
Devonians, with nut-brown hands and faces, the sort whose ancestors had been
fishing these tricky waters since Drake was learning the difference between
main and mizzen.
"Be there in an hour," he said, and stumped back forward.
When they reached the spot, the captain held the vessel with her bow into the
weather, holding station with an idling engine. The cousin took a long piece
of timber, three planks bolted together with crosspieces on the underside and
3 feet wide, and laid it across the starboard rail, smooth side up. The
chipped timber rail took the plank almost at the mid-section, like the fulcrum
of a see-
saw. One half of the. planks lay towards the deck, the other jutted out over
the heaving sea. As the captain's brother manned the davit motor, the cousin
slipped hooks under the coffin!s four brass handles.
The engine revved and the davits took the strain. The great coffin lifted off
the deck. The winchman held it at a height of 3 feet and the cousin manoeuvred
the oaken casket onto the plank. He pointed it headfirst towards the sea and
nodded. The winchman let it down so it came to rest directly above the
supporting rail. He slackened off and the coffin creaked into position, half
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