Patricia Wentworth - The Case of William Smith

‘Now there’s really nothing to be nervous about. It’s all fixed. If he gets at all awkward, you’ll put the whole thing on Mr. Davies. You’ve only got to say he’d been failing for some time but you didn’t like to supersede him after thirty years’ service. Then you put in about his dying suddenly six weeks ago, and say it’s taken us quite a while to get everything sorted out. If he asks anything you can’t answer, ring for me. You can tell him I’ve been straightening out the muddle.’

Cyril Eversley frowned.

‘It doesn’t seem fair. I don’t like it.’

She said a thought impatiently,

‘It won’t go outside this room. And who is it going to hurt? Not old Davies. Anyhow there’s no need to say anything about him unless the Admiral gets tiresome. If you have to, it will be all the better if you’re a bit embarrassed at bringing it out. Old servant of the firm and all that sort of thing – it’s quite a good touch.’

He said, ‘Don’t!’ so sharply that she stared for a moment, then came round to drop a kiss on the top of his head.

‘Cheer up, darling! It will go with a bang – you see if it doesn’t.’ She bent over to touch the papers lying in front of him. ‘You say your piece first, and then you show him this. Don’t bring in Davies unless you have to, and if you feel you’re getting bogged, just say, “I think Miss Jones knows about that,” and put your finger on the bell.’

She turned to smile at him from the doorway, and went out and along a piece of straight passage to Brett Eversley’s room.

He looked up as she came in, and said,

‘All set?’

She shrugged her shoulders.

‘I hope so. He’s as nervous as a cat.’

His eyebrows rose.

‘Well, I suppose we shall all be glad when it’s over. Are you going to be there?’

‘Not to start with. That’s what I’ve come to talk to you about. I’ve told him to ring for me if there are any awkward questions. It mayn’t be necessary, but if the Admiral gets too pressing, it’s easy for either of you to suggest having me in. The line will be that I’m straightening up after Mr. Davies, who was a bit past his work and had left things rather in a muddle.’

Brett laughed,

‘That’s a bright one!’

‘Yes – I thought so. But Mr. Eversley doesn’t like it.’

‘He wouldn’t.’

‘So it’s not to be brought in unless it’s necessary. Of course there wouldn’t be any harm in your saying that the old man had been getting pretty doddery and had left things in a bit of a mess. Mr. Eversley would show that he was vexed and stick up for Mr. Davies, and that would make the right sort of impression. We’d get across with the idea that it was Davies who had muddled things up. But Mr. Eversley being put out about it would take off any appearance of our wanting to put it on the old man, if you see what I mean.’

Brett looked at her with a curious expression in his dark eyes.

‘Oh, yes, I see what you mean! Clever – aren’t you?’ He laughed. ‘I think I shall always take care to stay your side of the fence!’

She gave him a perfunctory smile.

‘There’s really nothing to be nervous about. As far as this interview goes, everything will be quite all right – I’ve told Mr. Eversley so. The trouble is, it doesn’t go all the way. Nobody is safe until you’ve married her.’

He pushed back his chair and stood up, his hands in his pockets, a smile on his face.

‘You tell me that?’

‘Of course I do! It’s the truth.’

‘You want me to marry Katharine?’

‘My dear Brett, talk sense! You’ve got to marry her.’

‘And suppose she won’t?’

‘You’ve got to make her change her mind. You’ve always fancied yourself with women. I seem to remember your telling me that you could make any woman fall for you. Well, now you’ve got to marry Katharine Eversley or go to prison – that’s the plain English of it. Turn on some of that charm you’re so proud of and see what you can do with it. Because if she marries anybody else, the fat will be in the fire, and I shan’t be able to pull it out for you. I can bluff the Admiral, but I couldn’t bluff a firm of solicitors, and I’m not going to try. If Katharine Eversley marries, her husband will want to know what has happened to her trust funds, and you won’t be able to satisfy him. I haven’t said all this to Mr. Eversley because there isn’t anything he can do about it and it’s no good frightening him. But I’m saying it to you, and you’d better get busy. That’s all, Brett.’

The lunch went off well. In his relief at having come more than creditably through a much dreaded interview, Cyril Eversley relaxed to play the courteous, gentle-mannered host. In doing so he was not so much playing a part as throwing one off. It was the role of man of business which he found perennially jading and ungrateful. As the scholarly dilettante he was at his ease. Admiral Holden, who had never thought much of him, was surprised to find him such an agreeable host.

The Admiral was feeling pleased with himself – pleased to be up and about again; pleased to be asserting himself with the Eversleys who had certainly considered him as good as dead and buried (he’d show them!); pleased to be visiting his old haunts and saying what a damned filthy place London was, and very much pleased to see Katharine. When she came into the hall of the club in her blue dress and fur coat, and put her hands in his and kissed him, his weatherbeaten face turned quite scarlet with pleasure and he thought to himself, ‘She’s a lovely woman – and be damned to all the rest of them – they can’t hold a candle to her.’ He squeezed her hands very tight, and she said,

‘Darling Bunny, you look as if you’d just come back from a voyage round the world.’

‘Bed on the verandah,’ he said gruffly – ‘fair or foul – wet, wind, or snow – or I shouldn’t be here today.’

After that everything went with a bang. She had called him Bunny ever since she was three years old. It gave him extraordinary pleasure. She had a loving heart, God bless her, and she looked young and happy, and he had gone into her affairs for her. If he had come out of his verandah bed in the nick of time to dance at her wedding, nobody would be better pleased than he. Only he wasn’t sure that he would have chosen that fellow Brett – no, he wasn’t sure about that. Cyril Eversley seemed to think they had made it up between them, or that they were going to, but that it was all very hush-hush at the moment. He couldn’t see why it should be. He thought he would have a word or two with Katharine and find out. Hang it all, she liked the fellow, or she didn’t like him. She was old enough to know her own mind. He could find out tactfully. He hoped he could be tactful when he chose. Thoughts like these came and went as he partook vigorously of lobster and partridge and finished up with a couple of ices and some Stilton cheese.

Brett Eversley, making himself charming to Katharine, was aware of scrutiny. Admiral Holden’s small bright blue eyes appeared to be sizing him up. He laid himself out to entertain, and succeeded. But when Katharine rose to go the Admiral rose too.

‘We’ll have a taxi, my dear,’ he said easily. ‘I’m going your way.’

‘Darling Bunny, how do you know which way I’m going?’

‘Well, which way are you going?’

‘Back to my job.’

Brett laughed and said, ‘He crashes in where we’ve been afraid to tread! Go on, sir – ask her what she’s doing, and where she’s been hiding herself away!’

Katharine was smiling.

‘Oh, I’m not telling anyone. It’s fun for me, because I can keep you all guessing – and it’s even more fun for you, because you can invent all sorts of scandalous explanations. They won’t any of them be true, but that only makes them more intriguing.’