Patricia Wentworth - The Case of William Smith

‘What sort of things?’

‘Well, I should think there’s been some funny business about your money, because he blattered out something about Brett wanting to marry you and that would have made it all right, and then something about Mavis saying so. It was all muddled up, you know, because the poor chap rather went to pieces, but I got the impression that Mavis had been pretty keen on the idea of Brett putting things square by marrying you.’

Katharine’s colour brightened dangerously.

‘Kind of him, and of her! But I kept on saying no.’

William didn’t take any notice of that.

‘The thing is, I got the idea that Mavis had gone on being keen right up to the present moment. Cyril rather put it forward to show that she couldn’t have recognised me when I went to see her in December, because if she had she wouldn’t have been pressing Brett to marry you.’

She made a quick angry sound.

‘William, I shall scream if you go on talking as if I was something on a bargain-basement counter waiting to be picked up!’

He gave a fleeting grin, put out a hand and patted her, and was sober again.

‘She certainly did recognize me, but she must have known that I didn’t recognize her. Well, she had my address. She’d make enquiries, and she’d hear all about William Smith having lost his memory. I wonder if she came along on the night of December the seventh and pushed Mr, Tattlecombe under that car – not as Mr. Tattlecombe of course, but thinking it was me. You see, she didn’t know what he looked like, or anything about him. She may just have been meaning to give the layout a onceover. Or she may have had some kind of a plan for getting me to come out. And then the door opens and someone does come out – right size, hair looking the right colour with the light shining from behind-’ He paused and added cheerfully, ‘I wonder how long it was before she found out that she hadn’t bumped me off.’

Katharine didn’t say anything at all. William went on again.

‘It’s all theory of course, but it might quite easily have been that way. I’m practically sure there’s been some funny business with the accounts. Well, my coming back would mean a show-down. It must have been an awful shock when I walked in on William Smith’s appointment. I’ll say this for the Jones, she didn’t bat an eyelid. But the position would be fairly grim. First line of defence my loss of memory. No depending on it. Anyone might recognize me, and once you start bumping into people you’re apt to go on. If Brett could get you to marry him, that would be a second line. They’d reckon on my not wanting to make things difficult for you, and if I happened to meet with an accident, there wouldn’t ever be any question about the marriage.’

‘William, I said I’d scream, and I will! I wouldn’t have married Brett ever.’

‘But they weren’t to know that,’ said William reasonably. ‘He’s always been considered a very fascinating chap.’

At about this time Miss Silver was entering the cold, hygienic precincts of St. Luke’s Hospital in company with Sergeant Abbott, who had invited her over the telephone in the following terms,

‘The Chief says I can take you along if you don’t mind being a friend of the deceased.’

After rather passing from hand to hand, they found themselves in the brisk and businesslike presence of the Sister to whose ward Mr. Davies had been carried on the night of his accident. To her were presently added a couple of student nurses, one of whom had been on day and the other on night duty during the few hours that elapsed before he died. All three concurred in saying that Mr. Davies had uttered nothing more intelligible than a groan.

Frank Abbott got to his feet. The prettier of the two nurses looked at him admiringly. He said,

‘Well, thank you very much, Sister.’

Miss Silver coughed.

‘What about the patients on either side of him in the ward?’

The Sister’s gracious smile of dismissal chilled off.

‘I am afraid they would not be of any help to you. You see, the screens were round his bed, and as you have heard, he was unconscious.’

‘Perhaps if you will be so good as to let me have their names and addresses, just for my own satisfaction – ’

‘Oh, certainly, but I am afraid – the man on the right died on the following day. Yates, on the other side, is still with us. As a matter of fact he goes out tomorrow. He had rather a severe relapse.’

Miss Silver looked at Sergeant Abbott in a pointed manner, and he obliged.

‘Perhaps if we could just see this man Yates – ’

They found Mr. Yates, a friendly talkative Cockney, quite disposed for company. They were presently left with him, and after a few preliminaries he was asked whether he remembered an accident case in the next bed on December the seventh.

‘Acourse I do. It’s me leg that’s been bad, not me ’ead. Only in for a few hours, poor bloke. Old gentleman like ’im hadn’t got no business dodging around in front of cars after dark – see? The h’eye isn’t quick enough – see? You get flummoxed and down you go. Pity.’

‘Did he say anything at all?’

‘The screens was round his bed,’ said Mr. Yates. ‘Always know a bloke’s going to pop off when they puts the screens round him. Started doing it to me once, but I soon put ’em to rights. It was that little red-headed nurse – pretty gal. And I says to her, “You put those screens round me, and I’ll knock ’em over – see?” She says, “Oh, Yates!” and I says, “Don’t you Oh, Yates me! There wasn’t no one to put screens round when I was born. Eight in a room we was, and if I’m a-going to die I can do it just as well in a crowd as being born – see? Only I ain’t a-going to die, and you can go and tell Sister so with my love.” So she says, “Oh, Yates!” again and goes for Sister. But I never ’ad no screens.’

Miss Silver leaned forward.

‘A very commendable spirit,’ she said. ‘Mr. Yates, are you quite sure that poor Mr. Davies didn’t say anything?’

Yates put his head one one side. He had a little puckered monkey face. His eyes were dancing bright.

‘Well, there wasn’t nothing you could call a message, if that’s what you’re looking for.’

Miss Silver inclined her head graciously.

‘Just anything you heard him say, Mr. Yates – even if it was only a word or two.’

‘Well, it wasn’t nothing really. I shouldn’t ’ave heard it only my leg was bad and I couldn’t seem to get off. There was a bloke down at the far end of the ward playing up, and Nurse trying to settle ’im, when I heard the old bloke behind the screens call out. Not loud – see? “Joan,” he said – leastways that’s what it sounded like.’

‘Joan, or Jones?’ said Miss Silver.

‘I dunno – might ’ave been either – you pays your money and you takes your choice. If ’e’d got anyone belonging to ’im name of Joan, then you can take it it was Joan. And if ’e’d got anyone belonging to ’im name of Jones, then you can take it it was Jones. It might just as well ’ave been one as the other. So if it’s going to be any comfort to anyone, you’d better make up your mind which way you want it to be and stick to it – see?’

Miss Silver coughed.

‘What else did he say?’

Mr. Yates nodded brightly.

‘Said she didn’t believe ’im – jus’ like that. – “She didn’t believe me.” ’ He puckered up the whole of one side of his face in a monkey grin. ‘Coo lumme, I could ’ave told ’im that! Waste of time thinking up lies to tell ’em. ’Orrid unbelieving minds women’s got. So I says, “Never mind, chum,” I says, “you just take it easy.” And ’e says, “She pushed me.” “She didn’t ought to have done that, chum,” I says, and ’e gives a kind of a groan and starts muttering. And bimeby ’e stops and I can’t ’ear nothing, so when Nurse comes along I tells ’er. “I think ’e’s gone,” I says, and so ’e was.’