The Alington Inheritance

Chapter XXIII

Miss Maud Silver was writing to her niece Ethel. She had just turned the page and sat with her hand poised while she considered how to introduce the subject of Ethel’s younger sister Gladys Robinson. There had been so much trouble with her, and really Ethel had enough anxieties of her own. These recurrent troubles between husband and wife! To be quite candid about it, the marriage had always been an unsuitable one. Gladys was vain, light-minded, and unappreciative. She had been thoroughly spoilt as a child by a silly mother who had dwelt fondly on her looks and entirely neglected the correction of her faults. It was, however, too late to repine over that now. Some kind of peace must be kept between her and her justly exasperated husband. She decided that she would not say anything to Ethel at present. Later on if necessary, but not at this moment when Ethel was sufficiently burdened by the serious illness of her second boy. The dangerous turn of his illness had, thank God, not persisted and he was now doing well, but Ethel should not be subjected to any further anxiety.

She was about to pursue her letter, when the door opened and her faithful Hannah Meadows appeared.

“Will you see Mr. Mottingley, miss?”

Miss Silver did not know the name, and yet it had some fleeting familiarity. She said, “Yes, certainly,” laid down her pen, and got up.

There came into the room one of the largest men she had ever entertained there. It was not only his height, but the width of him. He saw a little lady of an old-fashioned appearance with neatly netted hair and a manner which commanded his respect. He found himself explaining his arrival in a much more subdued manner than he had intended.

“You are Miss Maud Silver?”

“Yes.” Miss Silver came out from behind her writing-table and shook hands. “What can I do for you, Mr. Mottingley? Will you not sit down?”

She indicated a chair with its back to the window. Mr. Mottingley was strongly reminded of his grandmother’s house in Bristol. She had had a lot of furniture like that. You didn’t see it much nowadays. It wasn’t fashionable, and it wasn’t quite old enough to be antique, but it made him feel better. There was something homely about it, as there was about nearly everything in the room. Not the desk though. That was a right-down practical piece of furniture, that was. He fixed his eyes upon Miss Silver and said,

“I can’t make up my mind. I thought I would come and see you and have a talk. I was told about you by Mr. Grimshaw. I have just had a matter of business with him, and he recommended you. Very highly.”

Miss Silver had settled herself in her favourite chair on the other side of the hearth. She recalled the Grimshaw case, a simple affair but one which had necessitated very delicate handling. She smiled and said,

“I have very pleasant recollections of Mr. Grimshaw. I hope that he is well?”

Mr. Mottingley said, “Yes-yes-” with an air of not thinking what he was saying. And then he came to the point. He leaned forward, crushed his great hands together, and said,

“My wife and I, we’ve got a boy-the only one that lived. We lost three, but this one lived. He is twenty-three now-old enough to be putting away childish things and getting down to the business of living. But he’s been a disappointment.”

Miss Silver had taken her knitting-bag from the table beside her and had extracted a baby’s vest of a delicate pink shade. She paused for a moment now and said,

“In what way, Mr. Mottingley?”

“He doesn’t take things seriously. I am a religious man, Miss Silver. Jimmy was brought up to be religious, but that’s one way he’s been a disappointment. And I wouldn’t have you think that he was spoiled. We realized our duty in that respect. Many’s the time we’ve been tempted to pass over a fault because he was the only one we had, but we’ve hardened ourselves for his good-” He came to a stop because he couldn’t go on.

Miss Silver spoke gently.

“And what is the trouble now, Mr. Mottingley?”

“He’s been accused of something he never did. Look, Miss Silver, I’m not one to cover up any faults my son may have. God knows he’s got enough to answer for-I’m not saying he hasn’t. He carried on with this girl, that’s bad enough. But if you ask me to believe that he went down to Hazeldon Heath and murdered her, I say that I don’t believe it. And if you knew Jimmy you wouldn’t believe it either.”

A light broke on Miss Silver. She had placed the name of Mottingley, and the whole story sprang to her mind. If she had not been so taken up with Gladys’ affair she would have got there sooner. Jimmy Mottingley-that was the name of the young man in the Hazeldon Heath murder case, and this was his father. Her expression became even graver than before.

“One minute, Miss Silver. Will you read this letter before you say anything? It will tell you why I have come to you.”

He handed her over a letter in a thick square envelope. As she took it, a memory stirred in her. She unfolded the letter which it contained, and the memory which it conveyed became clearer and stronger. It was a long time since she had seen Miss Twisledon’s writing, but as she read the letter she was back across the years which had elapsed since she had last seen her. She looked up and inclined her head.

“I remember Miss Twisledon,” she said. “She was a most dependable woman.”

The rather unusual phrase struck Mr. Mottingley as appropriate. He said,

“Yes, she is that,” and continued, “Would you be so good as to read what she says?”

Miss Silver turned back to the letter in her hand-

“My dear Mr. & Mrs. Mottingley,

I am writing without any delay at all to say that I don’t believe a word of it-about Jimmy, I mean of course. That is to say, I can believe that he got into trouble with the girl. I remember her of course, and a determined, bold-faced piece she was. I never liked her, and I see no reason to pretend that I did, just because she has got herself murdered. What I am quite sure of is that Jimmy didn’t do it. As you know, he was one of my boys in Sunday School, and what I didn’t know about them all wasn’t worth knowing. Jimmy’s faults were plain enough-I don’t need to tell you about them. But that he would strike a young woman down and strangle her is a thing that I find quite impossible to believe. And impossible things don’t happen. Now, will you be guided by me? I urge you very strongly to get in touch with Miss Silver, 15 Montague Mansions, S.W. You will remember the horrible affair of the Poisoned Caterpillars and my connection with it. It was Miss Silver who exposed the whole plot and saved an innocent family from a most distressing accusation. I can never say enough for the support and comfort she afforded me during a time of the deepest anxiety. Do get in touch with her. Show her this letter if you want to. I think she will remember me. She sent me a very kind message a little while ago by the Ridleys, whom you will remember. They met her in the Midlands, where she was staying with a niece.

Yours very sincerely

Kate Twisledon.”

Miss Silver finished the letter and handed it back to Mr. Mottingley.

“I remember Miss Twisledon perfectly,” she said. “I think I should trust her judgment, unless she has changed very much.”

“I have known her for twenty years, and she hasn’t changed at all,” said Mr. Mottingley. “A fair wonder with boys, that was what she was. She’s gone to nurse an elderly relative, and she’s very much missed in the church, I can tell you that. And now will you listen to me? About this affair-Jimmy went down to Hazeldon on Saturday. He was going to see this girl-he had an appointment with her. But he started late. He started late because my wife called out to him just as he was about to leave the house, and she did that because an old friend had come in -one that had known Jimmy as a boy. She had moved away, and she was back on a visit, and my wife wanted her to see him. Well, it was half past six before he got away, and that they can both swear to. His story is that he drove down to Hazeldon and up on to the Heath. He left his car and came back to some gorse bushes near the road, which was the place she had set for them to meet. Well, he walked up and down for a bit, and he wondered whether she had gone because he was late. And he thought that wouldn’t be like her. And he was quite right, it wouldn’t. A more determined young woman I never set eyes on, and that’s the truth. I don’t say it excuses Jimmy for what he did, but I do say that she asked for it, and got nothing but what she asked for.”

Miss Silver’s eyes were upon his face. They had a very keen look.

“Mr. Mottingley,” she said, “are you justifying murder?”

“I! Miss Silver, what do you mean? I’m telling you the sort of girl she was!”

She watched him closely. There was no doubt that he was badly shocked.

He said, “No-no. I don’t know what I said to give you any such impression. Jimmy has been sinful enough, God knows, but he wouldn’t do murder. Look here, Miss Silver, there are some that could do it if they were wrought up. And there are others that couldn’t. Now Jimmy’s one of them. I swear it, and I’m not one to swear lightly.”

Miss Silver said, “I see that I misunderstood you. If you will go over what has passed, you will, I think, agree that there were grounds for my mistake.”

He said very earnestly, “Miss Silver, if I believed that Jimmy had killed that girl I shouldn’t be here now asking you to get him free. I should be telling him that he’d got to face the consequences of his own act.” A scarlet flush passed over his face. “It would be hard to do, but I’d be doing it. Thank God I haven’t got to. He’s a sinner, and he’ll suffer for his sin. But he’s not liable to the law. That I say, and that I’ll stick to. Will you help me to prove it?”

Miss Silver looked at the massive face with its scarlet flush. She looked at the great hands clenched until the knuckles showed as white as bone. She said,

“Yes, Mr. Mottingley.”