Читать книгу Miss Silver Comes to Stay - Dora Amy Elles - Страница 10

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James Lessiter sat back in his chair and looked across the table at Mr. Holderness, who appeared to be considerably perturbed. A flush had risen to the roots of the thick grey hair, deepening his florid complexion to something very near the rich plum-colour achieved by the original founder of the firm, a three-bottle man of the early Georgian period whose portrait hung on the panelling behind him. He stared back at James and said,

‘You shock me.’

James Lessiter’s eyebrows rose.

‘Do I really? I shouldn’t have thought anyone could practise as a solicitor for getting on for forty years and still retain a faculty for being shocked.’

There was a moment’s silence. The flush faded a little. Mr. Holderness smiled faintly.

‘It is difficult to remain completely professional about people when one has known them as long as I have known your family. Your mother was a very old friend, and as to Catherine Welby, I was at her parents’ wedding—’

‘And so you would expect me to allow myself to be robbed.’

‘My dear James!’

James Lessiter smiled.

‘How very much alike everyone is. That is exactly what Rietta said.’

‘You have spoken to her about this—distressing suspicion of yours?’

‘I told her there were a good many things missing, and that it wouldn’t surprise me to find that Catherine knew where they had gone, and—what they had fetched. Like you, all she could find to say was, “My dear James!”’

Mr. Holderness laid down the pencil he had been balancing and placed his fingertips together. It was a pose familiar to any client of long standing, and indicated that he was about to counsel moderation.

‘I alluded just now to this idea of yours as a distressing suspicion. You cannot wish to precipitate a family scandal upon a mere suspicion.’

‘Oh, no.’

‘I was sure of it. Your mother was extremely fond of Catherine. If there is no evidence to the contrary, there would be a strong presumption that the furniture at the Gate House was intended to be a gift.’

James continued to smile.

‘My mother left Catherine five hundred pounds. By a few strokes of the pen she could have added, “and the furniture of the Gate House,” or words to that effect. Yet she did not do so. If it comes to presumptions, that would be one on the other side. The will never mentions the furniture. Did my mother ever mention it to you?’

‘Not precisely.’

‘What do you mean by not precisely?’

The fingertips came apart. The pencil was taken up again.

‘Well, as a matter of fact, I mentioned it to her.’

‘And she said?’

‘She put the matter aside. She could be very peremptory, you know. I cannot pretend to give her exact words. The will was drawn more than ten years ago, but my recollection is that she said something like “That doesn’t come into it.” Considered in the light of what you have been saying, it might be argued that her will had no concern with the furniture because she had already given it to Catherine—’

‘Or because she had no intention of giving it to her. You didn’t ask her what she meant?’

‘No—she was being extremely peremptory.’

James laughed.

‘I’ve no doubt of it! What I shall continue to doubt is that my mother had any intention of letting Catherine get away with so much valuable stuff.’

Mr. Holderness rolled the pencil meditatively to and fro between finger and thumb.

‘You may have some grounds for such a doubt, but you have no certainty. I daresay, if the truth were known, that your mother never defined the situation very clearly. When she told Catherine that she might have this or that from Melling House she may have intended a loan, or she may have intended a gift, or she may have had no very clear intention. Catherine, on the other hand, might naturally have concluded that the things were being given to her. I think, if I may say so, that it would be a pity to encourage a suspicion which you cannot substantiate.’

James Lessiter sat up straight and formidable.

‘Who says I can’t substantiate it? I will if I can.’

Mr. Holderness looked shocked all over again. His colour did not mount so vigorously as before, nor did it attain to quite so deep a shade. He stopped rolling his pencil and said,

‘Really—’

James nodded.

‘I know, I know—you think I ought to let it slide. Well, I’m not going to. I have an extreme dislike for being taken for a fool, and an even more extreme dislike for being done down—I can assure you that very few people have ever got away with it. I’ve got an idea that there’s been quite a lot going on behind my back. Well, I mean to get to the bottom of it, and when I do, anyone who thought he could take advantage of my absence is going to find himself in Queer Street.’

Mr. Holderness put up a hand.

‘My dear James, I hope you don’t mean that you suspect the Mayhews. Your mother had every confidence—’

James Lessiter laughed.

‘If there weren’t so much confidence, there would be no room for the confidence trick, would there? Now I’m going to tell you something. You say I can’t prove my suspicions because my mother held her tongue and didn’t put anything in her will. What she did do was to write to me a couple of days before she died. Would you like to know what she said?’

‘I should indeed.’

‘I can give it you verbatim. “I have not troubled you with letters about business as I hope you will soon be coming home. Meanwhile, in case of accident, I should like you to know that I have kept a careful note of everything.” A careful note of everything—that should tell us what we want to know, shouldn’t it?’

‘It might,’ said Mr. Holderness slowly.

‘Oh, I think you are too cautious. I think we may assume that it would. I haven’t found the note yet. My mother, like so many women, had a profound distrust of banks and office safes. It would, of course, have been a great deal more sensible—and convenient—if she had left this memorandum in your hands, but she didn’t. I have been through the drawers of her writing-table and a filing-cabinet which she had in the library, but for a special paper of this kind she may have had some special hiding-place. I have every hope that I shall find it, and when I do—’

Mr. Holderness lifted his eyes and looked steadily and gravely across the table.

‘You sound vindictive.’

James laughed easily.

‘Oh, yes.’

‘You would really proceed to extremes?’

‘I should prosecute.’