“Was there a problem with the probate back then?”

Arthur put his glasses back on and cleared his throat loudly.

He opened the cookie tin and lifted out a thick stack of yellowed legal paper.

“Beatrice didn’t hire me for a simple probate case, Samantha.”

He smoothed the top page flat on his desk.

The document had a faded court seal stamped in the upper right corner.

“I pulled the restricted records just like you asked,” he said.

“The bank manager was completely right to flag Gregory’s name.