The Case of William Smith

Chapter Twenty-nine

Miss Silver had had a busy two days. On Saturday morning, after a short telephone conversation, she put on her hat and coat and went round to New Scotland Yard, where she was received by Sergeant Abbott and presently conducted by him into the presence of Chief Detective Inspector Lamb.

Frank Abbott, as always, derived a sardonic amusement from the ensuing ritual. Having met as old friends, with a hearty handshake on one side and a ladylike one on the other, Miss Silver hoped that the Chief Inspector was well, and enquired after his family.

‘And Mrs. Lamb? I trust she is in very good health… And your daughters? Lily’s little boy must be at a most delightful age.’

His daughters were the Chief Inspector’s weakness. He permitted himself to expatiate on the infant talents of little Ernie.

‘They would call him after me, and they say he looks like me too, poor little beggar.’

Miss Silver beamed.

‘He could not, I am sure, have a worthier ambition. And your second daughter, Violet? Her engagement – ’

Lamb shook his head.

‘Broken off-and just as well, if you ask me. Naval officer and a nice enough chap, but when he’d been away two years and come back they didn’t want to go on with it. She’s got a good confidential job at the Admiralty, and too many friends to want to make up her mind again in a hurry.’

‘And Myrtle?’

His youngest daughter was the core of Lamb’s heart.

‘Wants to train as a nurse,’ he said. ‘Her mother worries over it. Thinks she’ll catch something, but I tell her nurses don’t.’

Miss Silver opined that it was a noble profession. They came to business with a ‘Well now, what can we do for you?’ and one of her delicate coughs.

Seated in an upright chair, her own back as straight, her neatly shod feet in black woollen stockings and Oxford shoes planted side by side upon the office carpet, her hands in their black knitted gloves folded in the lap of a well worn cloth coat, a little tippet of elderly yellowish fur about her neck, and a hat of several years’ standing enlivened by a bunch of purple pansies on her head, Miss Silver gave her whole attention to the case of William Smith.

‘I find myself in a difficult situation,’ she said.

‘Well, what can we do to help you?’

This was Lamb at his most accessible. There had been times in the past when it was he who had been the recipient of help which, however tactfully proffered, had slightly ruffled his temper and their relations. It was not disagreeable to have Miss Silver asking for assistance.

She said, ‘You are so kind,’ and then got briskly to her case.

‘I have some reason to believe that an elderly clerk of the name of Davies was murdered on the seventh of December last. The death followed on a street accident after which he was taken to hospital and is said not to have recovered consciousness. I believe that he was pushed. Here is a memorandum of his place of employment, his private address, and the hospital to which he was taken. I should like to know whether he said anything at all before he died, and I should like to see a transcript of the evidence at the inquest.’

Lamb turned his eyes upon her. Brown in colour and slightly protuberant, they had been compared by his irreverent subordinate to the sweets known as bull’s eyes. He asked,

‘Why do you think he was murdered?’

‘He had just recognized someone who had been missing for seven years, and whose return may prove to be a serious embarrassment to the firm for which he was working.’

The Chief Inspector’s face assumed a tolerant expression.

‘Well now, I should call that a bit far-fetched. There are quite enough accidents to elderly people without calling in murder to account for them.’

Miss Silver coughed.

‘That is very true. But in this case the life of the person recognised by Mr. Davies has been attempted, certainly on three, and possibly on a fourth occasion. One of these attempts was witnessed by Sergeant Abbott.’

Lamb shifted in his chair, brought a refrigerating gaze to bear upon that elegant young man, and said in tones of disfavour,

‘So you’re mixed up in this, are you? I might have known it!’

‘Well, sir – ’

Miss Silver interposed.

‘Permit me, Chief Inspector – ’

She presented the case of William Smith in as short and concise a manner as was possible – the loss of memory and identity; the recognition by Mr. Davies, by Katharine, by Frank Abbott; Mr. Tattlecombe’s ‘accident’; the first and second attacks on William; the tampering with the wheel of his car.

When she had finished Frank took up the tale. He described the attack, telling the Chief Inspector, as he had told Miss Silver, that he was convinced a second blow had been intended, and that in the circumstances it would almost certainly have proved fatal.

Lamb grunted.

‘Not much to go on,’ he said.

Miss Silver gave a slight protesting cough.

‘It is difficult to believe in such a series of coincidences. An accident to Mr. Davies just after he had recognized William Smith. An accident on that same evening to Mr. Tattlecombe in circumstances which rendered it possible that he had been mistaken for William Smith. Two separate attacks on William Smith after visiting Mr. Tattlecombe in Selby Street. And now the tampering with the wheel of his car. The trouble is that suspicion appears to be equally divided between someone connected with the firm of Eversleys and someone in the household at Selby Street. It is difficult to see how anyone in the firm could have been aware that William Smith would pay those two visits to Mr. Tattlecombe. He did not even go by appointment, and this would seem to make it likely that Miss Emily Salt may have been the assailant. She appears to be a person of unstable mentality, and to have resented Mr. Tattlecombe’s testamentary dispositions in favour of William Smith. She is, I am informed, a tall and powerful woman. Mr. Tattlecombe’s mackintosh was hanging in the hall. It would, I think, be difficult to tell a woman wearing such a garment from a man on the kind of night Sergeant Abbott has described. The first attack on William Smith was almost at Mrs. Salt’s door. On the second occasion Emily Salt could easily have followed him. It is not easy to see how anyone from the firm could have done so. On the other hand it seems impossible to suspect Emily Salt of the death of Mr. Davies, or of the accident to Mr. Tattlecombe, since she and her sister-in-law Mrs. Salt were present at a chapel Social on the evening of December the seventh. I have made a few local enquiries, and I find that Mrs. and Miss Salt were assisting in the preparations between five and seven, and that they were back in the hall before eight o’clock, where they remained until half-past ten. It would not, therefore, have been possible for Emily Salt to have been concerned in these two “accidents”, and during the period when the wheel was tampered with she was laid up in bed with influenza under the care of Mrs. Salt. I find myself unable to believe that two independent and unconnected series of attempts are being made upon William Smith, yet on the evidence at present before us it is very difficult to attribute all these attempts to the same agency.’

The Chief Inspector smiled. He said dryly,

‘If they ever were attempts, Miss Silver.’

There was a pause, slightly tinged with something not amounting to displeasure but tending that way. When she thought it had lasted long enough, Miss Silver coughed and said,

‘I am, naturally, not asking you to accept conclusions on which you have only hearsay evidence, and as to which I am not myself fully satisfied. I merely invite you to pursue some discreet investigations. You can call for the evidence in that inquest. You can, perhaps, discover whether either of the Eversley partners, Mr. Cyril and Mr. Brett, are in financial difficulties. I would not press you if I were not quite seriously troubled as to the personal safety of William Smith.’

Lamb continued to survey her with that tolerant smile.

‘William Smith being William Eversley?’

‘Precisely. He is also the senior partner, with a controlling interest in the business. When I add that Mrs. Eversley told me that her dividends were not forthcoming until there was active intervention on the part of a third trustee – Mr. Cyril and Mr. Brett Eversley being the other two – you will, I think, be prepared to admit that there are some grounds for my apprehension.’

Lamb frowned. He was remembering previous occasions on which Miss Silver had entertained apprehensions which had been rather dreadfully realised. He tapped the table and said,

‘Eversley won’t thank you for stirring up trouble about his firm.’

Miss Silver drew herself up.

‘That is the very last thing which I have in mind.’ She relaxed suddenly into one of her charming smiles. ‘Indeed, Chief Inspector, I have far too much confidence in your delicacy and discretion to suggest, as you yourself appear to be suggesting, that your department cannot make some discreet enquiries without precipitating a scandal.’

Lamb threw up his hands and broke into a hearty laugh.

‘Well, well – when you put it like that! Just give Frank here all the particulars you want, and I’ll see what we can do. You’ll have to excuse me – I’ve got a conference. And you know, if I hadn’t, I’d be afraid to stay. Some day you’ll be getting me into trouble.’

Miss Silver coughed.

‘There is just one thing more.’

He had drawn back his chair and laid a big hand on the arm preparatory to rising. Checking momentarily, he restrained a frown and said in a good-humoured voice,

‘Now, now, you mustn’t keep me, or I shall be getting into the trouble I was talking about.’

Miss Silver assumed a gracious and friendly air.

‘Your time is indeed valuable and I will not trespass upon it. I would merely ask that you will have a person who is closely connected with this case placed under constant observation.’

Lamb withdrew his hand, placed it upon a solid knee, and leaned forward a little.

‘What person?’

‘Miss Mavis Jones.’

‘Why?’

Miss Silver submitted her reasons in an efficient manner, observing in conclusion,

‘I would not urge this course upon you if I were not persuaded of its vital importance.’

Lamb was really frowning now.

‘Can’t say I see much case for it myself.’

Miss Silver met his look with a very grave one.

‘My dear Chief Inspector, I have before now urged that a similar course of action should be taken. I beg that you will recall those occasions and decide for yourself whether my requests were then justified.’

Lamb again remembered with some unwillingness that when Miss Silver’s suggestions had in the past been disregarded the consequences had not always been such as to minister to his peace of mind. It came to him in the blunt, plain English which we talk in our own minds that there were men who would be alive today if he had done what Miss Silver had asked him.

Her voice interrupted his thought persuasively.

‘I do really believe that Mr. William Eversley’s life is in very grave danger.’

He got to his feet in a hurry.

‘Now, now, you know, you’re making me late. I suppose you’ll have to have your way – you generally do. Tell Frank what you want, and we’ll look after it for you.’

Miss Silver smiled upon him benignly.

‘You are always so kind.’

When the door closed behind him after a cordial handshake, Frank Abbott observed with malice,

‘You’ve got him rattled, you know. He thinks you keep a broomstick, and the unlicensed broomstick is naturally anathema to any government department, which would rather let its murderers go free than have them brought to book in an unorthodox manner.’

Miss Silver regarded him with indulgent reproof.

‘My dear Frank, you talk great nonsense.’