Late, Late in the Evening

'Look like? I hardly remember. I suppose he was of average height, not noticeably tall or particularly short. He appeared to be of late middle-age, but I did not receive the impression that he was elderly. Apart from that, my memory fails me. He did not recall my brother to my mind and at first I doubted his claim. In fact, I still do, but it seemed so difficult and probably so expensive to prove him to be an impostor that I took the advice of my lawyers and did not attempt it. Besides, I will admit that something-his voice, I think-did stir some chord in my memory.'

'I think, you know, that it would be as well if you viewed the body. I could easily arrange with the authorities for you to do so,' I told her.

'Quite unnecessary,' she said, very firmly indeed. 'I have not set eyes on Ward since the day he made his impudent claim and should hardly recognise him again. Besides, if he has been residing with the Landgraves all this time, it must be the same man. I do not understand your questioning it.'

'Oh, I am not questioning it,' I said. 'You told me, when first we corresponded on the subject, that you had doubts of the man's true identity and that you had expressed those doubts to your lawyers. I suppose they are a reliable firm?'

'Reliable? Whatever do you mean? They are Price, Price, Whitstable and Price of County Street. They have been our family lawyers for years.'

'Ah, yes,' I said, having gained my objective, which was to find out the name of the firm without having to put a direct question to her. 'I have heard of them. No doubt they gave you the right advice.'

'It was the only advice they could give, considering the circumstances. It has saved me some thousands of pounds in costs, most likely. I was thankful to settle with Ward for his keep and his five pounds a week.'

'Surely a very modest claim for him to have made?'

'Oh, he wanted ten, but I beat him down.'

'But I thought you told me that this estate is entailed in the male line and that he was the rightful heir.'

'He did not wish to inherit. He could not have kept up the place or paid the servants. I received the impression that he was destitute or very nearly so.'

All this, of course, my dear Sir Walter, I had been told before, as you know, but it was helpful to hear it stated categorically all over again and it reinforced my resolution to contact Price, Price, Whitstable and Price and attempt to persuade one of the partners who had seen Mr Ward, when he visited them five years before, to come down and view the body so as to clear up any doubt as to whether their and Mrs Kempson's Mr Ward was also Mrs Landgrave's Mr Ward. It was the Widow Winter's attitude as well as the discrepancies in the attitudes and behaviour of the two, as described by Mrs Kempson and Mrs Landgrave which interested me. It was quite likely that Mr Ward's mental state had deteriorated over five years, but the self-confident individual who had challenged Mrs Kempson and a reputable firm of London lawyers to prove he was not her brother scarcely approximated to what I had been told in the village of the silent, snuff-taking, idiosyncratic stranger who had lived with the Landgraves during the five years which preceded his death.

The next thing which happened, dear Sir Walter, was very curious indeed. In spite of my suggestion-made more than once-that I was trespassing overlong on her hospitality and that there was nothing I could do for her except to advise her to stay with her daughter and son-in-law in London for a bit if she felt lonely and nervous at the manor house, Mrs Kempson had repeatedly told me that she was glad of and grateful for my company. On the morning following my visit to Mrs Landgrave and the others in the village, however, she appeared to be excited by a letter which she had opened at the breakfast table.

'Oh, how very nice!' she exclaimed. 'It is from Nigel. He is able to spend a day or two with me and is coming tomorrow. Oh!' Her expression changed. 'He wonders whether he can have me all to himself, as he has much to discuss with me. Now that is a little tiresome of him. He knows I have you staying with me.'

I was glad enough of an excuse to take my departure from Hill House in order to obtain more freedom of movement than I could enjoy as Mrs Kempson's guest, so I agreed at once that it was only to be expected that when Mr Nigel had the opportunity to visit her, and as they saw so little of one another in the ordinary way, they should wish to be alone together. I suggested that I should take my leave of her immediately, so that the servants could tidy my room and have everything in apple-pie order for Mr Nigel's arrival on the morrow. She seemed greatly relieved and attempted explanations which I thought it better to cut short.

I am writing this letter, therefore, from Mrs Landgrave's pleasant, semi-detached villa residence, where I have arranged to take over (temporarily) Mr Ward's two rooms.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE WRONGFUL HEIR

Living in Mr Ward's quarters is a revealing and pleasant experience. The Clifton children have been summoned home and, although I miss their company, it is a relief to be alone and untrammelled. This is no place for infants who know as much as Margaret and Kenneth do, and I am also keeping an eye open on my own account, for matters are coming to a head.

You will hardly need to ask why I say this when I tell you of the latest developments in this murder-ridden village. As I mentioned in my last letter, the strange discrepancies between the account Mrs Kempson gave me of Mr Ward and the descriptions of him which I have had from the children and Mrs Landgrave suggested that I should bring in an outside witness to look at the body before the inquest on it was held.

I hoped to persuade Mrs Kempson to collaborate with me in getting her lawyers to appoint one of their number to come down. I even thought that curiosity might induce her to visit the town mortuary herself to assist in the identification, and this proved to be the case.

Fortunately my official standing with the Home Office meant that no obstacles were put in my way by the local people, and yesterday the three of us, Mrs Kempson, Mr Iowerth Price and myself were able to visit the town mortuary and inspect the features of the deceased.

They meant nothing to me, of course, so far as identifying them was concerned, as I had never met the living Mr Ward, but the effect on my companions was instantaneous and, to me, gratifying. My hunch, if you care to call it that, although I prefer to have it thought that I had based it on sound psychological evidence, has proved to be correct. Neither the lawyer nor Mrs Kempson had any hesitation in declaring that the body they were shown was not that of the person who had introduced himself to them five years previously as Mrs Kempson's