Nine - The Will

"Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to gently request that you all stay in town until the investigation is complete," Blanc said once everyone had gathered and was settled.

"Yeah, well, he's gently requesting, but I'm gonna have to make that an order," stepped-in Elliot.
"No one move till we figure this all out."

The family all gathered in the library, sitting before Alan, or Mr. Stevens, the lawyer. There looked to be some protests to the detectives' request and/or order stirring, but Blanc gestured to Alan who cleared his throat and began to read the will, silencing all discussion about anyone going anywhere.

"Thank you. Now, you may or may not know this, but Harlan altered his will a week before he died, and he sealed it. If you have any questions, don't worry, we're all here, we can talk, although I don't imagine it's too complicated. Now, Harlan's assets included: the house, which he owned outright. Uh - sixty-million dollars-" His assistant kept having to help him read the document.

Linda took Richard's hand and they shared a smile. This made Flora's heart ache painfully. It's all a lie... At least from her father's side.

"-In various cash accounts and investments. And, of course, the real asset: sole owner of Blood Like Wine, his publishing company. He also wrote a statement when he was making the changes and he wanted that read first." Alan unfolded a piece of paper to read from. "'Dearest Linda, Walter and Joni. Some of you may be surprised by the changes I've made, no pleasure was taken in the exclusion. And it's purpose was not to sow greater discord in the family, but quite the opposite. Please accept it with grace and without bitterness, but do accept it, for it's for the best, Dad. And to my four grandchildren - Hugh, Florence, Meg, and Jacob - I hope you will understand as well. All my love to you all, Granddad.'"

Certainly mysterious - certainly very Harlan.

Alan opened the will, giving it a scan. "Oh, wow, yeah, not complicated at all. This'll be quick. 'I, Harlan Thrombey, being of sound mind and body, and-' yada, yada, yada... 'I hereby direct that all my assets I leave in their entirety to Marta Cabrera."

Well, no one had certainly been expecting that.

"'My ownership of Blood Like Wine Publishing, I leave in its entirety to Marta Cabrera, the copy of its catalogue I likewise leave in its entirety to Marta Cabrera. Uh..." Alan looked up to meet the shocked faces of the family. "Sorry, who is Marta Cabrera?"

"Um, no." Walt rose to his feet. "That can't be right." Pretty soon everyone was surrounding the desk where Alan sat, trying to catch a glimpse of the will itself.

"That's what it says." Alan shrugged.

"It's right." Walt now held the will in his hand, staring down at it in disbelief.

One look at Marta told Flora that she was in as much disbelief and denial as everyone else in the room was.

And that disbelief and denial was quickly brewing into anger - at least for some. For most.

"Alan, you can take this piece of paper and shove it right up your ass and get out!" yelled Linda. "You cops too, out, out! Right now! We need to fight this thing - we're not going anywhere! We are the Thrombeys , God damn it, and this is still our house!"

The house... Everyone fell dead silent once more and all turned to face Alan. The house was the one piece of the will that had not been mentioned.

"Oh, right, sorry. 'Likewise, the house at 2 Deerborn Drive and all belongings therein I leave to Marta Cabrera,'" Alan finished. "Not much of a surprise though, really."

Ransom was literally cackling from his lone spot in the corner.

"Oh, you bitch. You little bitch!" Linda led the others as they all cornered poor Marta.

Still howling with laughter, Ransom left the room, leaving the rest of the family behind in shock. Loud, angry, aggressive shock.

"I think everyone needs to calm down and cool their jets," announced Blanc, stepping in front of Marta to block her from the oncoming stampede of angry Thrombeys. Then he turned to her. "And in the meantime, I'd maybe run."

"Oh my God..."

Everyone had gathered back in the library - Flora could hear them all yelling at Alan and his assistant. Poor folks, it wasn't their fault. They just had the crappy job of relaying this information to the family.

Flora herself stood out in the hall, staring up at the portrait of her grandfather.

Well, that morning had certainly taken an unexpected turn for all of them...

Everyone left nothing, Marta left everything. Ransom cut out altogether.

Part of her said, "How could he?", while the other part said, equally forceful, "They got what they deserved."

Of course, everyone was only concerned about themselves, what they had lost. And of course, everyone was in shock, Flora included.

The painting of Harlan stared sternly down at her as though to say, 'Well Flora, what else would you have me do?'

Marta had been chased - literally - out of the library and out of the house by the frantic and livid rest of the family. Flora had been pushed to the back as everyone surrounded the equally-shocked Marta.

Flora herself wasn't even all that angry - in fact, she didn't really know what she was feeling. She just felt numb. So numb in fact she was almost able to drown out the sound of her family's yelling in the next room over. Almost.

Sudden footsteps snapped her from her numb trance and made her jump a little.

"You look like you could use something warm to drink." Blanc stood there in the doorway, an understanding smile on his face.

Flash forward twenty-five minutes later and the two were seated in the coffee shop where they had met a few days before. Flora had her head down, cradling her warm mug of coffee in her hands.

"I'm not even upset," she scoffed. "I'm upset because everyone is upset with Marta, like it's her fault or something. When clearly she was just as flabbergasted as the rest of us."

He chuckled a little, a deep, low chuckle in the back of his throat. "'Flabbergasted'?"

"It's a fun word. I like big, fun words."

"No need to justify. I like words too. And you're so concerned about Ms. Cabrera because you're a kind and generous person, Ms. Drysdale.'

She scoffed again. "You really think that?"

"I do."

"Even though you clearly overheard my conversation with Meg earlier?"

He nodded. "Even so. I know I'm intruding on a difficult time for you and your family, but that comes with the job."

"Yeah. I'm sorry I keep getting angry at you for doing your job."

"Don't be. It's certainly not the first time."

"But it doesn't make your job any easier."

"My job's never easy anyways."

"Well, this will be a real wake-up call for my family, and I think that's good."

"That certainly sounds like it was Harlan's intention."

"Well, that's Granddad for you. Always acting with good intentions."

"Well, it seems to me that you share a lot of your grandfather's traits, Ms. Drysdale."

She smiled her thanks to him, but a wave of sadness suddenly washed over her. "I miss him so much. I wish this hadn't happened. And there's been so much going on I haven't really had time to grieve..." She could feel tears prickling her eyes and willed herself not to burst into tears in front of the detective. She'd embarrassed herself in front of him enough already.

But Blanc showed nothing but kindness. "I understand."

"Thanks." She sniffled.

"Of course." He reached across the table to hand her a tissue.

"Thanks." It was only then that she realized she had begun crying. She quickly dabbed away evidence of her tears. "Where did Marta go? I really want to talk to her. See how she's doing." Everything after leaving the library was a blur.

"She left with your brother."

"Why?"

"That's what we want to find out."

Flora was glad Marta was away from the family to give them some time to settle down. But she also wasn't so sure she liked the idea of Marta hanging out with her asshole brother. Especially after that particularly asshole-like scene he had caused that morning.

"I know this is difficult, and unfortunately it seems to just be getting more difficult and complicated. But I promise you I will get to the bottom of this," Blanc insisted.

She found great comfort in this, in his words. So much so that she reached across the table and grasped his hand, giving it a squeeze. "Thank you, Detective."

He placed his other hand over top of hers. "Of course, Ms. Drysdale."

I know it's been a while, and I'm sorry for the delay. But American Thanksgiving is approaching (I'm from Canada, so we already had our Thanksgiving back in October) and this movie is set around then so I thought it would be the perfect time for an update :)

As always, thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :)