Patricia Wentworth - The Case of William Smith

‘Did he take anything?’

‘No – because Abbott came up.’ There was a short pause. Then he said, ‘There was one odd thing – at least I think it’s odd, because I can’t account for it. You know I was knocked right out, and then I came round and Abbott was there, and my hat had come off and he picked it up – ’

‘Yes.’

‘There was a street lamp not so far ahead, and Abbott had a torch. What I mean to say is, it was pretty murky, but I saw something on the pavement and I picked it up.’

‘What was it?’

‘I thought it was a piece of paper or a bill. As a matter of fact it was a letter. I thought it must have fallen out of my pocket, so I just slipped it back there – I’d got my raincoat on. But this morning when I had a look at it, it was a note from Mrs. Salt to Mr. Tattlecombe – and that’s what I thought was odd.’

Katharine’s brush was arrested.

‘Why should Mrs. Salt write him notes when he’s lying in bed in her house? Or am I being stupid?’

William laughed.

‘That’s just what I thought. And then I saw there was a date, and it was quite an old letter. He must have got it just before he had his accident. I remember his saying Mrs. Salt had written to ask him to go up there on the Sunday. What beats me is, how did that note get into my pocket? Because it must have been in my pocket, or it couldn’t have fallen on to the pavement, and I couldn’t have picked it up. Not that it matters of course. There – I’ve finished my duck!’ He reached for another and dipped his brush.

After a little silence Katharine said,

‘You know, this is a most dreadfully uneconomic way of turning out these creatures. If they were factory-made, you’d clear about double the profit.’

‘Yes, I know. Just before his accident I had got Mr. Tattlecombe to the point of agreeing to something of the sort. He didn’t like it, but I’d got him to the point of saying I could make enquiries. We’re protected by our patents, so there was no reason why we shouldn’t go ahead. As I said to him, if the children round about here like the animals, the children in other places probably will too, and if they like them, why shouldn’t they have them?’

She looked up and smiled.

‘Yes – why shouldn’t they? What did you do about it?’

‘I wrote to Eversleys – ’ He checked on the name. ‘That’s funny, isn’t it? I never thought of it before. I don’t know why I didn’t, because when you said your name it did just seem to me – ’ he drew his thick fair brows together in a frown and gazed at her in a concentrated sort of way – ‘it did just seem to me as if – well, as if I’d heard it before.’

‘Did it?’

She spoke so softly that he could hardly hear the words.

‘Yes, it did. I didn’t connect it with Eversleys, but of course that’s what it was. It sounds awfully stupid, but the fact is, I was – well, I was thinking too much about you. I mean, I was thinking you were just exactly what we wanted, and Miss Cole was being a bit difficult, so I hadn’t much attention left over for things like names. But it ought to have struck me afterwards, only somehow it didn’t. People’s surnames don’t seem to belong to them the way their other names do.’

Katharine’s heart beat as hard as if she were seventeen and her first proposal looming. She thought, ‘He’s trying to tell me that he thinks of me as Katharine. Oh, my darling, how sweet, and how ridiculous!’ She said,

‘I know just what you mean. I don’t think of my friends by their names at all.’

He considered that.

‘Don’t you? How do you think of them?’

‘I don’t think I can describe it. Not names – or faces – it’s just something that is them and not anyone else.’

‘Yes – I know what you mean.’

‘You were going to tell me about Eversleys. What happened?’

He was still frowning.

‘I suppose there’s no connection?’

She gave him her lovely smile.

‘Well, that’s just what there is – a connection.’

‘But they’re in a pretty big way.’

‘I’m a poor relation. Go on and tell me what happened. You wrote to them. What did they say?’

‘They asked me to come and see them.’

Katharine bent over her duck.

‘Did you go?’

‘Yes, I went, but it wasn’t any good.’

She half looked up, checked herself, and looked down again.

‘Tell me what happened.’

‘There’s nothing to tell. I went in. I didn’t see either of the partners. I came out again, and bumped into an old boy in the street.’

She bent lower.

‘What sort of an old boy?’

‘Looked like a clerk – highly respectable. First I thought he was tight, and then I thought he was ill. He asked me who I was, and I told him. Seemed a bit odd, the whole thing, but he said he was all right and went off.’

‘But you saw someone inside, in the office?’

‘Yes – Mr. Eversley’s secretary.’

‘What was she like?’

He laughed.

‘She?’

‘Wasn’t it a woman? Secretaries are as a rule.’

‘Yes – rather a good-looking one. Not young, but quite a looker. I was trying to catch you out. I wanted to see if you knew her.’

‘I know you were. I do. Her name is Miss Jones. She’s Cyril Eversley’s secretary – he’s the senior partner. She’s been there a long time – something like fifteen years. Very efficient, and as you say, quite a looker.’ She lifted her eyes to his face. ‘What happened when you saw her?’

‘Well, just nothing. She’d given me rather a late appointment, just on six o’clock. Neither of the partners was there, and the office was packing up. She didn’t seem inclined to give me very much time. I showed her some of the creatures and asked if the firm would be interested in manufacturing them under our patents, but she hardly looked at them.’

‘What did she look at?’ said Katharine.

‘Well – me. My word she’s got a gimlet eye! I got the feeling I was a base-born black beetle all right. She said she didn’t think the things were in their line, but she’d tell Mr. Eversley about them and let me know. A couple of days later I got a line to say that Mr. Eversley wasn’t interested.’

Katharine went back to her duck.

‘When was all this?’

‘Oh, just before Mr. Tattlecombe went into hospital.’

‘Then – who actually wrote the original letter – you, or Mr. Tattlecombe?’

‘Oh, I did.’

‘Wrote it, or typed it?’

She heard him laugh.

‘You’ve never seen my writing, or you wouldn’t ask! I didn’t actually want them to turn us down, you know. It was in my very best typing, beautiful and legible and clear.’

‘And the signature?’

‘Oh, a quite recognizable William Smith.’

Katharine said slowly and carefully,

‘That sounds like a frightful cross-examination. But I thought as I do know him, I could perhaps find out whether Cyril Eversley ever saw your letter. He mightn’t have, you know – he does leave quite a lot to Miss Jones. And I thought it would be easier if I knew what sort of letter it was, and whether it was signed by you or by Mr. Tattlecombe.’ She looked up to find him frowning and her colour rose. ‘Oh, I’m sorry!’

The frown changed to an expression of dismay.

‘No – no – why do you say that? It’s most awfully good of you. I was just thinking – ’

‘What?’

William registered candid surprise.

‘I don’t know. I got a sort of a come-over. I don’t even know what it was about. You said you’d find out if Eversley had ever had my letter, and I went into a sort of spin. The result of being cracked over the head, I expect – nothing to do with what you were saying. But I don’t think I’ll do anything more until Mr. Tattlecombe is about again. I don’t think he’d like it if he thought I was doing things while he was out of the way. You don’t feel as if I was being ungrateful, do you? Because I shouldn’t like you to think anything like that.’