Mrs Pargeter 01; A Nice Class of Corpse

∨ A Nice Class of Corpse ∧

18

On the morning of the 7^th of March the inquest on Mrs Selsby was held in Worthing.

Newth was present as the one who had discovered the body; Dr Ashington was present as Mrs Selsby’s physician and as the one who had examined the body; Mr Holland was there as a representative of the deceased; and Miss Naismith was there, because she was the proprietress of the Devereux and felt that she should know about everything that concerned the hotel.

As Dr Ashington had predicted, there were no complications. Mrs Selsby, because of her considerable frailty and failing eyesight, was reckoned to have taken a false step on the landing of the Devereux Hotel and fallen down the stairs. No negligence was attributable to anyone, and a verdict of Accidental Death was recorded.

♦

When the inquest party had returned to the Devereux, another formal meeting was held. All of the residents, along with Newth and Loxton, were summoned to the Seaview Lounge by Miss Naismith and told that Mr Holland had an announcement to make.

Although Mrs Pargeter had a shrewd idea that the announcement did not concern her, she went to the Lounge and made a point of sitting in a chair against the wall opposite the bay window, from which position she could see the faces of all of the others.

As soon as they were assembled (they had to wait ten minutes for Mrs Mendlingham, who had apparently dozed off in her room), Mr Holland turned to Mrs Pargeter and confirmed what she had anticipated.

“I regret, Mrs Pargeter, that, for reasons of which I believe you are aware, what I have to say does not apply to you. If you would rather leave us to discuss the matter on our own…?”

“No, no. I’m fine here,” she replied breezily.

Mr Holland, perhaps recognising that he could not bring any spark of intelligence or originality to his work, made sure that he brought a full measure of pomposity. Addressing a large assembly gave him ample opportunity to show off his armoury of long words and convoluted syntax, and he indulged this to such an extent that there was a long and confusing preamble before he got to the meat of his message.

While he rambled on, Mrs Pargeter covertly glanced around, noting the expressions of the listeners. Miss Naismith looked serenely genteel, displaying, as was proper, no emotion; and yet Mrs Pargeter felt certain that the proprietress knew the burden of the solicitor’s message. Colonel Wicksteed looked acutely interested, as if he were watching a cricket match; Mr Dawlish vaguely confused, as if he were trying to find out where the cricket match was being played.

Miss Wardstone bore an expression of reptilian smugness, and Eulalie Vance looked as if she were selecting which of her vast wardrobe of reactions should be shown off when Mr Holland’s denouement came. Lady Ridgleigh’s eyes were closed, and the bony fingers of one hand were pressed to her temple, as if she had a headache. Newth and Loxton looked respectful, if slightly bored, and on Mrs Mendlingham’s face was a look of pure, evil glee.

It would be interesting, Mrs Pargeter thought, to see how those expressions changed when the announcement was finally made.

“…and the provisions of this extremely unusual will are that the residue of her estate shall be divided equally amongst those residents and full-time staff of the Devereux Hotel who have been here for more than six months.” He turned to Mrs Pargeter. “Which is why, of course, I began by apologising to you.”

But she did not hear his words. She was far too interested in the changing faces of the others in the room.

Miss Naismith, as anticipated, showed no reaction, save possibly a more serene serenity.

Colonel Wicksteed kept slapping his thigh and saying, “Well, I’ll be damned!”

Mr Dawlish let out a thin, high, continuous giggle.

Miss Wardstone’s smugness deepened, while Eulalie Vance kept clapping her hands together and emitting inappropriately girlish cries of joy.

Lady Ridgleigh had slumped back in her chair with an abandonment that might have arisen from exhaustion or from relief.

Newth looked pale and was pressing a hand to his chest. Loxton had suddenly and unaccountably burst into tears.

And Mrs Mendlingham’s glee was now manifesting itself in cackles of triumphant laughter.