30 The Fingerprint by Patricia Wentworth

Author:Patricia Wentworth [Wentworth, Patricia]
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-THREE

MR. MAUDSLEY ARRIVED at half past ten, having taken the night train from Edinburgh and breakfasted at his own house. He was a man of about sixty with a pleasant voice and an agreeable manner. His features were good, and if he had put on a couple of stone in the last year or two he carried it well. After a short interview with Detective Inspector Abbott during which the main facts of the case were put before him he suggested that the will should be opened and the beneficiaries acquainted with its contents.

They came into the study. With Mrs. Fabian and Georgina Mr. Maudsley was on terms of old acquaintance. Johnny Fabian and Anthony Hallam he had known as boys. Mirrie Field and Miss Silver were strangers to him. Mirrie came in with her hand on Johnny’s arm, her eyes wide and enquiring, like a kitten in a place it does not know. Whilst greetings and condolences were passing she stood as close as she could and kept her hold of him. Mr. Maudsley’s ‘I needn’t say how shocked I was to hear the news’ having met with its due response, and a few more murmured words having been added, he went over to the writing-table and sat down there. When everyone was settled he spoke.

‘I have here Mr. Field’s will, of which I am executor. In the circumstances I think the best thing I can do is to acquaint you with its provisions.’

His manner was grave and formal. His glance travelled from one to another. Chairs had been placed in a rough semicircle – Frank Abbott sitting close up to the table on the extreme right; beyond him Miss Maud Silver in a small armless chair; next to her Mirrie Field and Johnny Fabian, their seats pushed close together and her hand still holding his sleeve. She wore the white wool jumper and grey skirt which she had put on yesterday. Anthony Hallam came next, his face set and rather gloomy, and beyond him Georgina, very pale.

Mrs. Fabian had been given Jonathan Field’s big chair, but for all the comfort it afforded her she might just as well have had a wooden stool. She sat stiffly upright in a black coat and skirt usually reserved for funerals and held her hands tightly clasped together in her lap. She mustn’t, mustn’t let herself think that Jonathan had possibly made any provision for her. It was true that she had been asked to come in and hear the will read, but that would just be because she had lived for such a long time at Field End and had brought Georgina up. At the most there might be some small legacy that would cover the expense of a move, say ten or twenty pounds. But no, she mustn’t even let herself count on that, and she must be on her guard against displaying the least sign of disappointment. Dear Mamma had brought her up to believe that a lady did not show her feelings in public.

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