‘He was still asleep,’ he explained. ‘He’s getting up now. A chambermaid seems to have called him four times but it didn’t make any impression.’ ‘Well, we’d better go and see the nitwit,’ said Frankie, rising.
‘And then I must buy a toothbrush and a nightgown and a sponge and a few other necessities of civilized existence. I was so close to Nature last night that I didn’t think about any of them. I just stripped off my outer covering and fell upon the bed.’ ‘I know,’ said Bobby. ‘So did I.’ ‘Let’s go and talk to Rose Chudleigh,’ said Frankie.
Rose Chudleigh, now Mrs Pratt, lived in a small cottage that seemed to be overflowing with china dogs and furniture. Mrs Pratt herself was a bovine-looking woman of ample proportions, with fish-like eyes and every indication of adenoids.
‘You see, I’ve come back,’ said Bobby breezily.
Mrs Pratt breathed hard and looked at them both incuriously.
‘We were so interested to hear that you had lived with Mrs Templeton,’ explained Frankie.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Mrs Pratt.
‘She’s living abroad now, I believe,’ continued Frankie, trying to give an impression of being an intimate of the family.
‘I’ve heard so,’ agreed Mrs Pratt.
‘You were with her some time, weren’t you?’ asked Frankie.
‘Were I which, ma’am?’ ‘With Mrs Templeton some time,’ said Frankie, speaking slowly and clearly.
‘I wouldn’t say that, ma’am. Only two months.’ ‘Oh! I thought you’d been with her longer than that.’ ‘That was Gladys, ma’am. The house-parlourmaid. She was there six months.’ ‘There were two of you?’ ‘That’s right. House-parlourmaid she was and I was cook.’ ‘You were there when Mr Savage died, weren’t you?’ ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am.’ ‘You were there when Mr Savage died?’ ‘Mr Templeton didn’t die – at least I haven’t heard so. He went abroad.’ ‘Not Mr Templeton – Mr Savage,’ said Bobby.
Mrs Pratt looked at him vacantly.
‘The gentleman who left her all the money,’ said Frankie.
A gleam of something like intelligence passed across Mrs Pratt’s face.
‘Oh! yes, ma’am, the gentleman there was the inquest on.’ ‘That’s right,’ said Frankie, delighted with her success. ‘He used to come and stay quite often, didn’t he?’ ‘I couldn’t say as to that, ma’am. I’d only just come, you see.
Gladys would know.’ ‘But you had to witness his will, didn’t you?’ Mrs Pratt looked blank.
‘You went and saw him sign a paper and you had to sign it, too.’ Again the gleam of intelligence.
‘Yes, ma’am. Me and Albert. I’d never done such a thing before and I didn’t like it. I said to Gladys I don’t like signing a paper and that’s a fact, and Gladys, she said it must be all right because Mr Elford was there and he was a very nice gentleman as well as being a lawyer.’ ‘What happened exactly?’ asked Bobby.
‘I beg your pardon, sir?’ ‘Who called you to sign your name?’ asked Frankie.
‘The mistress, sir. She came into the kitchen and said would I go outside and call Albert and would we both come up to the best bedroom (which she’d moved out of for Mr – the gentleman – the night before) and there was the gentleman sitting up in bed – he’d come back from London and gone straight to bed – and a very ill-looking gentleman he was. I hadn’t seen him before. But he looked something ghastly, and Mr Elford was there, too, and he spoke very nice and said there was nothing to be afraid of and I was to sign my name where the gentleman had signed his, and I did and put “cook” after it and the address and Albeit did the same and I went down to Gladys all of a tremble and said I’d never seen a gentleman look so like death, and Gladys said he’d looked all right the night before, and that it must have been something in London that had upset him. He’d gone up to London very early before anyone was up.
And then I said about not liking to write my name to anything, and Gladys said it was all right because Mr Elford was there.’ ‘And Mr Savage – the gentleman died – when?’ ‘Next morning as ever was, ma’am. He shut himself up in his room that night and wouldn’t let anyone go near him, and when Gladys called him in the morning he was all stiff and dead and a letter propped up by his bedside. “To the Coroner,” it said. Oh! it gave Gladys a regular turn. And then there was an inquest and everything. About two months later Mrs Templeton told me she was going abroad to live. But she got me a very good place up north with big wages and she gave me a nice present and everything. A very nice lady, Mrs Templeton.’ Mrs Pratt was by now thoroughly enjoying her own loquacity.