"Even Gregory is a great deal better than Pierre Lansquenet ever was!
Of course marrying a man who serves in a shop would have been
unheard of in my day - but a chemist's shop is much better than a
haberdasher's - and at least Gregory seems quite respectable." She
paused and added: "Does this mean that Susan gets the income Richard
left to Cora?"
"Oh no. The capital of that will be divided according to the
instructions of Richard's will. No, poor Cora had only a few hundred
pounds and the furniture of her cottage to leave. When outstanding debts
are paid and the furniture sold I doubt if the whole thing will amount
to more than at most five hundred pounds." He went on: "There will have
to be an inquest, of course. That is fixed for next Thursday. If Timothy
is agreeable, we'll send down young Lloyd to watch the proceedings on
behalf of the family. He added apologetically: "I'm afraid it may
attract some notoriety owing to the - er - circumstances."
"How very unpleasant! Have they caught the wretch who did it?"
"Not yet."
"One of these dreadful half-baked young men who go about the
country roving and murdering, I suppose. The police are so incompetent."
"No, no," said Mr Entwhistle. "The police are by no means incompetent. Don't imagine that, for a moment."
"Well, it all seems to me quite extraordinary. And so bad for
Timothy. I suppose you couldn't possibly come down here, Mr Entwhistle? I
should be most grateful if you could. I think Timothy's mind might be
set at rest if you were here to reassure him."
Mr Entwhistle was silent for a moment. The invitation was not unwelcome.
"There is something in what you say," he admitted. "And I shall
need Timothy's signature as executor to certain documents. Yes, I think
it might be quite a good thing."
"That is splendid. I am so relieved. Tomorrow? And you'll stay the night? The best train is the 11.20 from St Pancras."
"It will have to be an afternoon train, I'm afraid. I have," said Mr Entwhistle, "other business in the morning..."
II
George Crossfield greeted Mr Entwhistle heartily but with, perhaps, just a shade of surprise.
Mr Entwhistle said, in an explanatory way, although it really explained nothing:
"I've just come up from Lytchett St Mary."
"Then it really was Aunt Cora? I read about it in the papers and I
just couldn't believe it. I thought it must be someone of the same
name."
"Lansquenet is not a common name."
"No, of course it isn't. I suppose there is a natural aversion to
believing that anyone of one's own family can be murdered. Sounds to me
rather like that case last month on Dartmoor."
"Does it?"
"Yes. Same circumstances. Cottage in a lonely position. Two elderly
women living together. Amount of cash taken really quite pitifully
inadequate one would think."
"The value of money is always relative, said Mr Entwhistle. "It is the need that counts."
"Yes - yes, I suppose you re right."
"If you need ten pounds desperately - then fifteen is more than
adequate. And inversely also. If your need is for a hundred pounds,
forty-five would be worse than useless. And if it's thousands you need,
then hundreds are not enough."
George said with a sudden flicker of the eyes: "I'd say any money came in useful these days. Everyone's hard up."
"But not desperate," Mr Entwhistle pointed out. "It's the desperation that counts."
"Are you thinking of something in particular?"
"Oh no, not at all." He paused then went on: "It will be a little
time before the estate is settled; would it be convenient for you to
have an advance?"
"As a matter of fact, I was going to raise the subject. However, I
saw the Bank this morning and referred them to you and they were quite
obliging about an overdraft."
Again there came that flicker in George's eyes, and Mr Entwhistle,
from the depths of his experience, recognised it. George, he felt
certain, had been, if not desperate, then in very sore straits for
money. He knew at that moment, what he had felt subconsciously all
along, that in money matters he would not trust George. He wondered if
old Richard Abernethie, who also had had great experience in judging
men, had felt that. Mr Entwhistle was almost sure that after Mortimer's
death, Richard Abernethie had formed the intention of making George his
heir. George was not an Abernethie, but he was the only male of the
younger generation. He was the natural successor to Mortimer. Richard
Abernethie had sent for George, had had him staying in the house for
some days. It seemed probable that at the end of the visit the older man
had not found George satisfactory. Had he felt instinctively, as Mr
Entwhistle felt, that George was not straight? George's father, so the
family had thought, had been a poor choice on Laura's part. A
stockbroker who had had other rather mysterious activities. George took
after his father rather than after the Abernethies.
Perhaps misinterpreting the old lawyer's silence, George said with an uneasy laugh:
"Truth is, I've not been very lucky with my investments lately. I
took a bit of a risk and it didn't come off. More or less cleaned me
out. But I'll be able to recoup myself now. All one needs is a bit of
capital. Ardens Consolidated are pretty good, don't you think?"
Mr Entwhistle neither agreed nor dissented. He was wondering if by
any chance George had been speculating with money that belonged to
clients and not with his own? If George had been in danger of criminal
prosecution -
Mr Entwhistle said precisely:
"I tried to reach you the day after the funeral, but I suppose you weren't in the office."
"Did you? They never told me. As a matter of fact, I thought I was entitled to a day off after the good news!"
"The good news?"
George reddened.
"Oh look here, I didn't mean Uncle Richard's death. But knowing
you've come into money does give one a bit of a kick. One feels one must
celebrate. As a matter of fact I went to Hurst Park. Backed two
winners. It never rains but it pours! If your luck's in, it's in! Only a
matter of fifty quid, but it all helps."
"Oh yes," said Mr Entwhistle. "It all helps. And there will now be
an additional sum coming to you as a result of your Aunt Cora's death."
George looked concerned.
"Poor old girl," he said. "It does seem rotten luck, doesn't it? Probably just when she was all set to enjoy herself."
"Let us hope the police will find the person responsible for her death," said Mr Entwhistle.
"I expect they'll get him all right. They're good, our police. They
round up all the undesirables in the neighbourhood and go through 'em
with a tooth comb - make them account for their actions at the time it
happened."
"Not so easy if a little time has elapsed," said Mr Entwhistle. He
gave a wintry little smile that indicated he was about to make a joke.
"I myself was in Hatchard's bookshop at 3.30 on the day in question.
Should I remember that if I were questioned by the police in ten days'
time? I very much doubt it. And you, George, you were at Hurst Park.
Would you remember which day you went to the races in - say - a month's
time?"
