MARIE BELLOC LOWNDES - British Murder Mysteries Collection: 17 Books in One Edition. Marie Belloc Lowndes
pretty, smart little lady—who will provide the mystery and the sensation, sir. She’ll be the principal witness for the Crown.”
Mr. Oram felt very much disturbed on hearing this piece of information.
“I do not regard myself as being in any sense Mrs. Lexton’s legal representative,” he said stiffly. “With regard to this lady, I am simply acting as Mr. Miles Rushworth’s solicitor.”
And now, just as he was reaching out for his hat and coat, feeling more perturbed than he would have cared to acknowledge, a client for whom he had a great regard called to see him. Though John Oram was not the kind of man who changes his mind lightly when he saw whose name was engraved on the card which had been brought in to him, the lawyer at once made up his mind that he must spare time for this visitor.
For one thing, her business must be serious, for she lived in the country, and this was the first time she had ever called on him without first making an appointment. Further, she was a widowed lady he had known since he was quite a young man, and for whom he had a very high esteem, and, it might almost be said, affection. But he had despised her husband, and he did not really like her son—though the son had none of the faults which had brought his father to ruin. Lastly, Mr. Oram was willing to see this client because she was a woman of few words. She would tell him at once why she wished to see him, and then she would go away.
“Show Mrs. Gretorex in,” he said quickly.
“There is a young lady with her, sir.”
“A young lady?”
Did that mean that Roger Gretorex was thinking of getting married? If so, unless the girl had money, he would be doing a very foolish and improvident thing. Mr. Oram did not really think that this was at all likely to be the reason for Mrs. Gretorex’s unexpected visit; but a solicitor is apt to consider every possibility.
However, Mr. Oram’s old friend and client came unaccompanied through the baize door of his private room. Mrs. Gretorex had left Enid in the waiting-room, for there were certain things which she knew she would have to say, and which she felt she could only say when alone with the solicitor.
As she looked at her old lawyer’s stern face, though the expression on it was just a little softer than usual, even her high courage faltered.
“Perhaps you know, Mr. Oram,” she said in a low voice, “what it is that has brought me here this morning?”
“No,” he said, surprised, “I have no idea at all, Mrs. Gretorex——”
He could see she was very much disturbed, and he drew forward a chair. After all, it wouldn’t hurt that frivolous little widow to wait for an extra half-hour or so for the two thousand pounds Miles Rushworth was so rashly presenting to her free and for nothing. Mr. Oram’s knowledge of human nature told him that probably a very great deal more money was coming Ivy’s way from the same source as this money came from.
Mrs. Gretorex bent a little forward. She fixed her sunken eyes, for she had not slept at all the night before, on the lawyer’s face.
“Roger has been arrested on the charge of having murdered a man called Jervis Lexton——”
“Roger arrested on a charge of murder? God bless my soul!”
He took off his eyeglasses and began cleaning them mechanically with a small piece of wash-leather which he kept for that purpose.
Here was indeed a complication! And a very troublesome as well as a painful complication, from his point of view. His own connection with the Gretorex family was hereditary. His grandfather had been, not only the lawyer, but the very close friend and trustee, of Mrs. Gretorex’s father-in-law. As for the rich Rushworths, they were in Mr. Oram’s estimation mere upstarts compared to the ancient, if now impoverished, county family.
“If you don’t mind,” he said suddenly, “I’ll send for Finch. In a case of this sort two heads are better than one. Also Finch can take notes of any information you can give me about the matter.”
Mrs. Gretorex would much rather have told her story to this good old friend alone. But she saw the sense of his suggestion, and they both waited in silence till the head clerk came in.
Mrs. Gretorex rose and shook hands with Mr. Finch. She was well acquainted with him, and she had always liked him.
“May I tell Finch what you have just told me?” Mr. Oram asked.
She bent her head, overwhelmed with a passion of agony and shame.
“Mrs. Gretorex has brought bad news, Finch. Her son has just been arrested on the charge of having caused the death, I presume by the administration of arsenic, of Mr. Jervis Lexton. I take it”—and he looked very straight into the younger man’s face—“that you had no notion of this fact, when you told me, this morning, that you had heard that an arrest was about to be effected in connection with the Lexton affair?”
Alfred Finch prided himself on his self-control, and wise lack of emotion, where anything connected with business was concerned. But his face was full of dismay as he answered instantly, “No name at all was mentioned, sir. I was simply told that an arrest was imminent.”
He turned to Mrs. Gretorex. “When was it that Mr. Roger was arrested?” He had known “Mr. Roger” from childhood.
Tears welled up to her tired eyes. “Last evening,” she answered.
“I wish he’d sent for us at once,” Finch exclaimed. “It’s always important to get one’s blow in first, and especially over a matter of this kind.”
“My son was arrested at Anchorford House. I came up by the night train, as the police inspector from Lynchester said he would be brought to town the first thing this morning. I suppose he is in London by now.”
Finch looked at his employer.
“In that case, don’t you think, sir, that I’d better go off at once and try to find Dr. Gretorex? Let me see. Where would he be charged?”
Mentally he answered his own question. Then he observed, “I hope he made no statement to the police?”
“He wished to make a statement, but the inspector advised him not to do so.”
“You think, Finch, that you’d better go off now, instantly?”
“I’m sure of it, sir. Even now, I fear I shall be too late to stop his saying something he’d best keep to himself.”
“I feel quite sure he has nothing to hide,” said Mrs. Gretorex rather stiffly. But neither of the two men made any comment on that.
Mr. Oram was the first to break the silence.
“Very well, Finch. You go off,” he said. “Start at once! And of course no expense is to be spared?”
He glanced at his client, and she quickly nodded.
“Meanwhile, I’ll make rough notes of any information that Mrs. Gretorex is good enough to give me. But I don’t suppose she really knows very much.”
And then in a serious tone he asked her, “Were you yourself acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Lexton?”
He put the question just as the other man was leaving the room, and Mrs. Gretorex saw Finch stay his steps. It was clear that he wished to hear her answer.
“I’ve never seen Mr. Lexton; but Mrs. Lexton spent a week-end at Anchorford last winter.”
Both men noticed the somewhat embarrassed way in which Roger Gretorex’s mother answered that question.
At last, reluctantly, Finch shut the door. How useful it would be, sometimes, to find oneself in two places at once!
Being the manner of woman she was, Mrs. Gretorex did not try to conceal anything of what was in her heart from her old and trusted friend.
“I am absolutely certain, Mr. Oram, that Roger had nothing to do with Mr. Lexton’s death.