Page 6 of Shroom for Improvement

She cleared her throat. “As I was saying, Mr Cope called to let us know Mr Stinkhorn had passed, and that we were to make arrangements for his son”—she gestured towards me, just to make sure we were both clear who my father’s son was—“to take up residence in his manor house as soon as possible. We don’t have any of the documents—the will, power of attorney, land boundaries, et cetera—here at this branch, unfortunately. They’ll be in our main office in Bordalis, but we’ll make sure they’re all forwarded wherever they’re needed. ”

“I’m sorry. Residence? No, that’s not... I won’t be taking up any residence. My plan is to head straight from here to the estate agent on the corner, and... Sorry, did you say you don’t have the documents? Not the deeds to this... property?”

Elektra walked around her desk and sat down in her chair. I got the distinct feeling she was buying herself more thinking time. “I’m afraid we have no documents. Mr Cope will get the deeds to you as quickly as he can, but you must remember, this isn’t generally how probates work. It takes time, Mr Stinkhorn, and this case is especially unique.”

“How so?”

Elektra’s skin flushed a darker green. “Ah, well, that is the thing.” She opened a drawer on her desk and plucked a small sheet of paper from somewhere near the very top. She handed it to me. “These are the notes Jack made last night. Sorry it’scrinkled. He was in the bath when he took the call, and the paper got a little damp. That’s everything we know. Jack says that’s all he could make out. Apparently the line wasn’t great and, well, Mr Cope can be rather... brusque.”

I nodded, squinted down, and attempted to untangle the wet spaghetti of scribbles before me.

Mr Core.No, obviously it didn’t say that.

Mr Cope.

Mr Stinkhorn dead.“Dead” underlined three times.

Expedition-related accident.

Decapitated.Yeesh, did I need to know that?

Son inherits EVERYTHING.

Stinkhorn Manor.

Multiple problems.

No cash, no known bank accounts.

Residence must be taken up IMMEDIATELY.“Immediately” underlined thirteen times.

Ancient fae magic.

Dire consequences.

Make appointment for son tomorrow, breakfast time.

Son does not know.

My mouth began leaking words before my brain could think them through. “What the heck does all this mean? Multiple problems? I’ve inherited multiple problems? Explain it.”

Elektra laughed and folded her huge arms over the leather desktop protector. “Now you understand why we didn’t expect anyone to turn up.”

“But what does it mean?”

“I’m sorry, Mr Stinkhorn. You know as much as I do. Perhaps more if your father ever mentioned anything—”

“He did not.”

She stood again, walked around to my side of the desk, and perched her solid-looking backside on the wood. “My advice would be to head home, pack a few supplies—say, a fortnight’s worth—and go to Stinkhorn Manor. I will arrange for Mr Cope to pay you a visit with all the necessary paperwork. Or, if not Mr Cope, another of our colleagues. I must admit, I’m rather curious myself. Perhaps it’ll be me.”

I scowled at her. She pursed her lips together to hide her smile.

“I have work. Do you expect me to simply take two weeks off?” I tried to sound indignant but I actually had a staggering number of accrued annual-leave days I could dip into if worse came to worst.

She shrugged. “Until I have more information, that is all I can advise. I would like to highlight the bit at the bottom that very ominously states,‘dire consequences.’ But it’s your property now, and therefore, entirely your call.”

I blew out a breath. Besides work, I had no prior commitments that required me to stay in Remy for any reason. But I didn’t want the stress or hassle something labelled“multiple problems”and“dire consequences”could bring.

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