She slipped the paper knife under the flap; it lifted; it opened cleanly, just as Miss Booth’s step resounded in the passage.
Miss Climpson adroitly dropped the paper knife behind the stove and thrust the envelope, with the flap doubled back to prevent it from resticking itself, behind a dish cover on the wall.
“The water’s ready!” she cried blithely. “Where are the bottles?”
It is a tribute to her nerve that she filled them with a steady hand. Miss Booth thanked her, and departed upstairs, a bottle in each hand.
Miss Climpson pulled the will from its hiding place, drew it from its envelope and glanced swiftly through it.
It was not a long document, and in spite of the legal phraseology, its purport was easily gathered. Within three minutes she had replaced it, moistened the gum and stuck the flap down again. She put it in her petticoat pocket—for her garments were of a useful and old-fashioned kind—and went to hunt in the pantry. When Miss Booth returned, she was making tea peacefully.
“I thought it would refresh us after our labours,” she remarked.
“A very good idea,” said Miss Booth; “in fact, I was just going to suggest it.”
Miss Climpson carried the teapot to the sitting room, leaving Miss Booth to follow with the cups, milk and sugar on a tray. With the teapot on the hob and the will once more lying innocently on the table, she smiled and breathed deeply. Her mission was accomplished.
Letter from Miss Climpson to Lord Peter Wimsey.
.
My dear Lord Peter,
As my telegram this morning will have informed you, I have succeeded!! Though what excuse I can find in my conscience for the methods I have used, I don’t know! but I believe the Church takes into account the necessity of deception in certain professions, such as that of a police detective or a spy in time of warfare, and I trust that my subterfuges may be allowed to come under that category. However, you will not want to hear about my religious scruples! So I will hasten to let you know what I have discovered!!
In my last letter I explained the plan I had in mind, so you will know what to do about the Will itself, which was duly despatched by Registered Post this morning under cover to Mr. Norman Urquhart. How surprised he will be to get it!!! Miss Booth wrote an excellent covering letter, which I saw before it went, which explains the circumstances and mentions no names!! I have wired to Miss Murchison to expect the package, and I hope that when it comes she will contrive to be present at the opening, so as to constitute yet another witness to its existence. In any case, I should not think he would venture to tamper with it. Perhaps Miss Murchison may be able to investigate it in detail, which I had not time to do (it was all most adventurous! and I am looking forward to telling you all about it when I come back), but in case she is not able to do so, I will give you the rough outline.
The property consists of real estate (the house and grounds) and a personalty (am I not good at legal terms??) which I am not able to calculate exactly. But the gist of it all is this:—
The real estate is left to Philip Boyes, absolutely.
Fifty thousand pounds is left to Philip Boyes also, in cash.
The remainder (is not this called the residue?) is left to Norman Urquhart, who is appointed sole executor.
There are a few small legacies to Stage Charities, of which I did not manage to memorise any particulars.
There is a special paragraph, explaining that the greater part of the property is left to Philip Boyes in token that the testatrix forgives the ill-treatment meted out to her by his family, for which he was not responsible.
The date of the Will is , and the witnesses are Eva Gubbins, housekeeper, and John Briggs, gardener.
I hope, dear Lord Peter, that this information will be enough for your purpose. I had hoped that even after Miss Booth had enclosed the Will in a covering envelope I might be able to take it out and peruse it at leisure, but unfortunately she sealed it for greater security with Mrs. Wrayburn’s private seal, which I had not sufficient dexterity to remove and replace, though I understand it is possible to do so with a hot knife.
You will understand that I cannot leave Windle just yet—it would look so odd to do so immediately after this occurrence. Besides, I am hoping, in a further series of “sittings,” to warn Miss Booth against Mrs. Craig and her “control” Fedora, as I am quite sure that this person is quite as great a charlatan as I am!!!—and without my altruistic motives!! So you will not be surprised if I am away from town for, say, another week! I am a little worried about the extra expense of this, but if you do not think it justified for the sake of safety, let me know—and I will alter my arrangements accordingly.
Wishing you all success, dear Lord Peter,
“Bunter,” said Lord Peter, looking up from this letter, “I knew there was something fishy about that will.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“There is something about wills which brings out the worst side of human nature. People who under ordinary circumstances are perfectly upright and amiable, go as curly as corkscrews and foam at the mouth, whenever they hear the words ‘I devise and bequeath.’ That reminds me, a spot of champagne in a silver
