Patricia Wentworth - The Case of William Smith

Miss Silver coughed.

‘Very succinct – very clearly put. But the last three can hardly be described as accidents. Do you want my advice?’

‘That is why I am here.’

The small nondescript-coloured eyes contemplated her gravely.

‘Tell your husband what you have just been telling me.’

Katharine caught her breath.

‘I know – I must. I wanted just a little longer. I thought – I hoped – he would remember.’

Miss Silver said, ‘How long have you been married?’

Katharine’s colour rose, pure and bright.

‘Last Saturday – ’

Miss Silver stopped her.

‘I do not allude to any ceremony you may have gone through then. I think you married Mr. William Eversley in ’39, did you not?’

Katharine said, ‘July. We had a month, and then one or two short leaves. He was missing in ’42. How did you know?’

Miss Silver smiled.

‘There were a number of indications. That party at the Luxe at which Frank Abbott remembers seeing your husband – he spoke of a girl in a gold dress. That was you, was it not?’

‘Yes. We got engaged that evening.’

‘A cousin of Frank Abbott’s was there – a Miss Mildred Abbott and her fiancé. She is now Mrs. Darcy. She has just come home from the East. She remembers the party, and Bill as they all seemed to call him, and you in your gold dress. She couldn’t remember his surname or your names, but she said an aunt of hers wrote afterwards and told her she had been at your wedding. She said she had given you a tea-set.’

Katharine nodded.

‘Old Mrs. Willoughby Abbott. It was a lovely set. And all that crowd called him Bill. I never did.’

‘When you spoke of Frank Abbott I knew that you must at least have been in contact with friends of his.’

‘Yes – it was a slip. I never really met him, but I knew a good many of his friends and relations. There was a lot of chaff and talk about his being a policeman. His grandmother, Lady Evelyn Abbott, was supposed to have cut him out of her will, but the young ones all thought it was a joke. Miss Silver, you say I ought to tell William, but don’t you see how difficult it’s going to be if the Eversleys just dig their toes in and say they don’t recognize him? They might, you know.’

Miss Silver coughed.

‘From that point of view the second marriage ceremony was unwise.’

Katharine gave a shaky little laugh.

‘William wouldn’t have felt married without it. And think how shocked Mr. Tattlecombe would have been.’

Miss Silver looked grave.

‘I quite see your point of view. But you have taken a good deal of responsibility, Mrs. Eversley. It was, in fact, this readiness to take responsibility on his behalf which convinced me that your marriage was no new thing.’

Katharine said slowly, ‘I thought when we were married he would remember that we had been married before. If he got his memory back it would be all quite easy. There’s just one more thing I can do. He has a recurrent dream – he’s had it all these years. It’s about a house in a village street – three steps up and into a panelled hall, and a staircase going up on the right, with the newel-posts carved with the four Evangelists – a lion and an ox at the bottom, and an eagle and a man at the top. I thought if I could take him down there and into the house, he might remember.’

‘It is a real house, with associations for him?’

‘Yes. It belonged to his grandmother. We used to go there a lot when we were children. She left it to William, and he left it to me. It’s at Ledstow. It’s called the Cedar House. We spent our honeymoon there. Mr. Tattlecombe has given us Saturday afternoon off. I want to take William down there this weekend and see if he remembers.’ She stopped, her eyes shining, her look intent. ‘I think it’s a real chance. He wouldn’t have that dream about it if it didn’t mean something to him – something special. It’s as if it was the one sensitive spot. I’ve got a sort of feeling that his memory might come back to him there.’

Miss Silver said, ‘Yes. These cases of loss of memory are strange. Sometimes a mental or a physical shock will bring the lost faculty back. Your plan is, I think, worth trying. But pray do not be too much disappointed if it does not succeed. In that case I must urge you most strongly to lose no more time. Your husband has a right to decide for himself what is best for him to do. His own family and his own firm are involved. You cannot continue to take the sole responsibility.’

Katharine said ‘No – ’ on a long sigh. It turned into a laugh. ‘I shan’t have much choice about telling him. Everybody in Ledstow will know him at sight. William Smith will be an exploded myth from the moment my Mrs. Perkins sets eyes on him. She lives next door and comes in and does for me when I’m there, and she has known William since he was five years old. But you’re quite right – he has got to know. Only it would be so much better if he hadn’t got to be told.’

Miss Silver gave a short, brisk cough.

‘Very true. Meanwhile there is something he should do without delay. He should inform the local police of the fact that the wheel of his car had been loosened. They will make the usual routine enquiries. It is possible that the person who tampered with the wheel was observed. In what kind of street is the garage?’

‘It isn’t a garage at all, only a shed where a local builder keeps odds and ends – ladders amongst other things. And you can’t call it a street. It’s just a narrow cut running along the back yards of the houses fronting on Ellery Street.’

Miss Silver looked attentive.

‘Not the kind of place which a stranger would frequent. The person we are looking for may have attracted attention. By all means get your husband to notify the police. In the second place, I would like your permission to talk the whole matter over with Frank Abbott.’

‘Oh, no!’

Miss Silver held up her pencil in a hortatory manner.

‘Pray think again, Mrs. Eversley. There have been three attempts on your husband’s life, an attempt on Mr. Tattlecombe of which your husband may have been the real object, and a fatal accident to Mr. Davies – the day after he had recognised him as William Eversley. I am not saying from what quarter these attacks have come. By changing your address you may have obscured your own connection with William Smith for a time, but it must be clear to you that anyone who is taking a serious interest in his identity with William Eversley cannot remain long in ignorance of the part you have undertaken to play. As soon as that is known, and as soon as it is known that you have gone through a form of marriage with him and are living as his wife, it will be evident to the person or persons who have been attempting his life that the time remaining to them is short. He, or they, must know that you will not remain silent. As soon as you speak and William Smith comes forward as William Eversley they cannot any longer hope to act in the dark. Attention will be focused upon anyone who has an interest in resisting his claim. Do you not see that the sooner that claim is made, the harder it will be to make any fresh attempt upon his life? Where a common street accident to William Smith could very well pass unsuspected of being anything more than an accident, his sudden death immediately after he has claimed to be William Eversley whose return from the dead was likely to involve his relatives in a good deal of financial embarrassment could hardly fail to attract the attention of the police.’

Katharine said, ‘Yes.’

Miss Silver laid down her pencil with an air of finality.

‘It will, I think, be quite a good plan for you to leave town tomorrow for the weekend. Pray do not tell anyone where you are going. Meanwhile I should like to talk the matter over with Frank Abbott. I do not care to accept the responsibility alone. I think you may rest assured that no action will be taken without reference to your husband and yourself. If Frank thinks as I do he may discuss the matter with Chief Inspector Lamb, a most worthy and dependable officer. He has great experience, and I feel sure that you need not be afraid that he will authorise any precipitate action. Routine procedure may, however, produce some interesting evidence. Have I your permission?’