Agatha Christie – Why Didn’t They Ask Evans?

‘There’s M. R. Rivington, Onslow Square. He’s possible.

And there’s a William Rivington at Hampstead. I think Onslow Square and Tite Street are the most likely ones. The Rivingtons, Bobby, have got to be seen without delay.’ ‘I think you’re right. But what are we going to say? Think up a few good lies, Frankie. I’m not much good at that sort of thing.’ Frankie reflected for a minute or two.

‘I think,’ she said, ‘that’ll you have to go. Do you feel you could be the junior partner of a solicitors’ firm?’ That seems a most gentlemanly role,’ said Bobby. t! was afraid you might think of something much worse than that. All the same, it’s not quite in character, is it?’ ‘How do you mean?’ ‘Well, solicitors never do make personal visits, do they?

Surely they always write letters at six and eightpence a time, or else write and ask someone to keep an appointment at their office.’ ‘This particular firm of solicitors is unconventional,’ said Frankie. ‘Wait a minute.’ She left the room and returned with a card.

‘Mr Frederick Spragge,’ she said, handing it to Bobby. ‘You are a young member of the firm of Spragge, Spragge, Jenkinson and Spragge, of Bloomsbury Square.’ ‘Did you invent that firm, Frankie?’ ‘Certainly not. They’re Father’s solicitors.’ ‘And suppose they have me up for impersonation?’ ‘That’s all right. There isn’t any young Spragge. The only Spragge is about a hundred, and anyway he eats out of my hand. I’ll fix him if things go wrong. He’s a great snob – he loves lords and dukes, however little money he makes out of them.’ ‘What about clothes? Shall I ring up Badger to bring some along?’ Frankie looked doubtful.

‘I don’t want to insult your clothes, Bobby,’ she said. ‘Or throw your poverty in your teeth, or anything like that. But will they carry conviction? I think, myself, that we’d better raid Father’s wardrobe. His clothes won’t fit you too badly.’ A quarter of an hour later, Bobby, attired in a morning coat and striped trousers of exquisitely correct cut and passable fit, stood surveying himself in Lord Marchington’s pier glass.

‘Your father does himself well in clothes,’ he remarked graciously. ‘With the might of Savile Row behind me, I feel a great increase of confidence.’ ‘I suppose you’ll have to stick to your moustache,’ said Frankie.

‘It’s sticking to me,’ said Bobby. ‘It’s a work of art that couldn’t be repeated in a hurry.’ ‘You’d better keep it, then. Though it’s more legal-looking to be clean-shaven.’ ‘It’s better than a beard,’ said Bobby. ‘Now, then, Frankie, do you think your father could lend me a hat?’

CHAPTER 17 Mrs Rivington Talks

‘Supposing,’ said Bobby, pausing on the doorstep, ‘that Mr M.

R. Rivington of Onslow Square is himself a solicitor? That would be a blow.’ ‘You’d better try the Tite Street colonel first,’ said Frankie.

‘He won’t know anything about solicitors.’ Accordingly, Bobby took a taxi to Tite Street. Colonel Rivington was out. Mrs Rivington, however, was at home.

Bobby delivered over to the smart parlourmaid his card on which he had written: ‘From Messrs Spragge, Spragge, Jenkinson Spragge. Very Urgent.

The card and Lord Marchington’s clothes produced their effect upon the parlourmaid. She did not for an instant suspect that Bobby had come to sell miniatures or tout for insurances.

He was shown into a beautifully and expensively furnished drawing-room and presently Mrs Rivington, beautifully and expensively dressed and made up, came into the room.

‘I must apologize for troubling you, Mrs Rivington,’ said Bobby. ‘But the matter was rather urgent and we wished to avoid the delay of letters.’ That any solicitor could ever wish to avoid delay seemed so transparently impossible that Bobby for a moment wondered anxiously whether Mrs Rivington would see through the pretence.

Mrs Rivington, however, was clearly a woman of more looks than brains who accepted things as they were presented to her.

‘Oh, do sit down!’ she said. ‘I got the telephone message just now from your office saying that you were on your way here.’ Bobby mentally applauded Frankie for this last-minute flash of brilliance.

He sat down and endeavoured to look legal.

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