“I don’t know what Mrs. Peasgood could have known about it,” said Nurse Forbes with a sniff, “her permission was not asked in the matter.”
“Certainly not- but you know how these ideas get about. But, I say- if there was a will, why wasn’t it produced?”
“I didn’t say that, Mr. Simms-Gaythorpe. There was no will. The lawyer came to draw up a power of attorney, so that Miss Whittaker could sign cheques and so on for her aunt. That was very necessary, you know, on account of the old lady’s failing powers.”
“Yes- I suppose she was pretty woolly towards the end.”
“Well, she was quite sensible when I took over from Nurse Philliter in September, except, of course, for that fancy she had about poisoning.”
“She really was afraid of that?”
“She said once or twice, ‘I’m not go to die to please anybody, Nurse.’ She had great confidence in me. She got on better with me than with Miss Whittaker, to tell you the truth, Mr. Simms-Gaythorpe. But during October, her mind began to give way altogether, and she rambled a lot. She used to wake up sometimes all in a fright and say, ‘Have they passed it yet, Nurse?’ – just like that. I’d say, ‘No, they haven’t got that far yet,’ and that would quiet her. Thinking of her hunting days, I expect she was. They often go back like that, you know, when they’re being kept under drugs. Dreaming, like, they are, half the time.”
“Then in the last month or so, I suppose she could hardly have made a will, even if she had wanted to.”
“No, I don’t think she could have managed it then.”
“But earlier on, when the lawyer was there, she could have done so if she had liked.”
“Certainly she could.”
“But she didn’t?”
“Oh, no. I was there with her all the time, at her particular request.”
“I see. Just you and Miss Whittaker.”
“Not even Miss Whittaker most of the time. I see what you mean, Mr. Simms-Gaythorpe, but indeed you should clear your mind of any unkind suspicions of Miss Whittaker. The lawyer and Miss Dawson and myself were alone together for nearly an hour, while the clerk drew up the necessary papers in the next room. It was all done then, you see, because we thought that a second visit would be too much for Miss Dawson. Miss Whittaker only came in quite at the end. If Miss Dawson had wished to make a will, she had ample opportunity to do so.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” said Mr. Simms-Gaythorpe, rising to go. “These little doubts are so apt to make unpleasantness in families, don’t you know. Well, I must be toddlin’ now. I’m frightfully sorry you can’t come to us, Nurse- my wife will be so disappointed. I must try to find somebody else equally charmin’ if possible. Goodbye.”
Lord Peter removed his hat in the taxi and scratched his head thoughtfully.
“Another good theory gone wrong,” he murmured. “Well, there’s another string to the jolly old bow yet. Cropper first and then Crofton- that’s the line to take, I fancy.”
Part II. The Legal Problem
“The gladsome light of jurisprudence.”
SIR EDWARD COKE
Chapter 10 The Will Again
“The Will! the will! We will hear Caesar’s will!”
JULIUS CAESAR
Oh, Miss Evelyn, my dear, oh, poor dear!”
The tall girl in black started, and looked round.
“Why, Mrs. Gulliver- how very, very kind of you to come and meet me!”
“And glad I am to have the chance, my dear, all owing to these kind gentlemen,” cried the landlady, flinging her arms round the girl and clinging to her to the great annoyance of the other passengers pouring off the gangway. The elder of the two gentlemen referred to gently put his hand on her arm, and drew them out of the stream of traffic.
“Poor lamb!” mourned Mrs. Gulliver, “coming all this way by your lonesome and poor dear Miss Bertha in her grave and such terrible things said, and her such a good girl always.”
“It’s poor Mother I’m thinking about,” said the girl. “I couldn’t rest. I said to my husband, ‘I must go,’ I said, and he said, ‘My honey, if I could come with you I would, but I can’t leave the farm, but if you feel you ought to go, you shall, he said.”
“Dear Mr. Cropper- he was always that good and kind,” said Mrs. Gulliver “but here I am, forgittin’ all about the good gentlemen as brought me all this way to see you. This is Lord Peter Wimsey, and this is Mr. Murbles, as put in that unfortnit advertisement, as I truly believes was the beginnin’ of it all. ’Ow I wish I’d never showed it to your poor sister, not but wot I believe the gentleman acted with the best intentions, ’avin’ now seen ’im, which at first I thought ’e was a wrong’un.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said Mrs. Cropper, turning with the ready address derived from service in a big restaurant. “Just before I sailed I got a letter from poor Bertha enclosing your ad. I couldn’t make anything of it, but I’d be glad to know anything which can clear up this shocking business. What have they said it is- murder?”
“There was a verdict of natural death at the inquiry,” said Mr. Murbles, “but we feel that the case presents some inconsistencies, and shall be exceedingly grateful for your co-operation in looking into the matter, and also in connection with another matter which may or may not have some bearing upon it.”
“Righto,” said Mrs. Cropper. “I’m sure you’re proper gentlemen, if Mrs. Gulliver answers for you, for I’ve never known her mistaken in a person yet, have I, Mrs. G? I’ll tell you anything I know, which isn’t much, for it’s all a horrible mystery to me. Only I don’t want you to delay me, for I’ve got to go straight on down to Mother. She’ll be in a dreadful way, so fond as she was of Bertha, and she’s all alone except for the young girl that looks after her, and that’s not much comfort when you’ve lost your daughter so sudden.”
“We shall not detain you a moment, Mrs. Cropper,” said Mr. Murbles. “We propose, if you will allow us, to accompany you to London, and to ask a few questions on the way, and then- again with your permission- we should like to see you safely home to Mrs. Gotobed’s house, wherever that maybe.”
“ Christchurch, near Bournemouth,” said Lord Peter. “I’ll run you down straight away, if you like. It will save time.”
“I say, you know all about it, don’t you?” exclaimed Mrs. Cropper with admiration. “Well, hadn’t we better get a move on, or we’ll miss this train?”
“Quite right,” said Mr. Murbles. “Allow me to offer you my arm.”
Mrs. Cropper approving of this arrangement, the party made its way to the station, after the usual disembarkation formalities. As they passed the barrier on to the platform Mrs. Cropper gave a little exclamation and leaned forward as though something had caught her eye.
“What is it, Mrs. Cropper?” said Lord Peter’s voice in her ear. “Did you think you recognised somebody?”
“You’re a noticing one, aren’t you?” said Cropper. “Make a good waiter- you would- not meaning any offence, sir, that’s a real compliment from one who knows. Yes, I did think I saw someone, but it couldn’t be, because the minute she caught my eye she went away.”
“Who did you think it was?”
“Why, I thought it looked like Miss Whittaker, as Bertha and me used to work for.”
“Where was she?”
“Just down by that pillar there, a tall dark lady in a crimson hat and grey fur. But she’s gone now.”
“Excuse me.”
Lord Peter unhitched Mrs. Cropper from his arm, hitched her smartly on to the unoccupied arm of Mr. Murbles, and plunged into the crowd. Mr. Murbles, quite unperturbed by this eccentric behaviour, shepherded the two women into an empty first class carriage which Mrs. Cropper noted, bore a large lable, “Reserved for Lord Peter Wimsey and party.” Mrs. Cropper made some protesting observation about her ticket, but Mr. Murbles merely replied that everything was provided for, and privacy could be more conveniently secured in this way.