“That’s a point. I’m surprised he saw you, though. Gentlemen of the law always prefer to go about things in the proper way.”
“He gave me ten minutes, maybe quarter of an hour. I showed him what I’d brought. He got about as excited as I reckon gentlemen of the law ever get, then his servant came in to say a taxi had come for him and Mrs. Pearson. He wanted me to leave the … papers there for him to look at later. I wasn’t about to do that, with no knowing what’d become of them. I swore to the person who lent it—them—to me that I’d return them unharmed. They’re irreplaceable.”
“Originals. Not official records then.”
“That’s as may be. I was good and ready to get out of the city, begging Dr. Samuel Johnson’s pardon, and I didn’t want to let another day pass without seeing my gal!”
“Yet you didn’t exactly hurry here from Worcester.”
“I’ve always liked to get to know foreign places. And after being adrift in strange country in Florida, I wanted to be familiar with the territory hereabouts. You never know when it’ll come in handy.”
“I don’t mind,” Martha said earnestly. “I’m just happy that he’s safe.”
Safety was questionable, Daisy thought, or at least relative. If Sam was as honest and open as she would like to believe, he might be in danger. But she recognised the truth of Alec’s accusation that she always, when mixed up in a case, took one of the suspects “under her wing,” and found it hard to believe ill of him or her. Her faith was sometimes misplaced. For Martha’s sake she wanted Sam to be innocent, so she viewed him through rose-coloured spectacles.
“What time did your train get in?” Alec asked.
“It was due at Worcester Shrub Hill at about twenty past eleven, but it arrived a few minutes late.”
Sam had been in Worcester at the time of Raymond’s fall. However, it would have been an astonishing coincidence for him to have happened to spot Raymond—assuming he could recognise him—at a moment when he was vulnerable.
Coincidences do happen, Daisy reminded herself. She suspected Sam had the quick wits to take advantage of an unexpected opportunity.
“You’ll understand that I’m going to do some checking,” Alec told him.
“I might understand if you’ll tell me what this is all about!”
“Fair’s fair.” Alec’s account of the string of odd incidents was a model of conciseness.
By the end, Sam was frowning. “Yes,” he said slowly, “I see why you have to look into every possibility. I—No, I think I’d better keep my own counsel for the moment.”
“And your eyes open.”
“And—believe me—my eyes open! Who—” The telephone bell interrupted him.
Alec automatically reached for the receiver, hesitated with a glance at Sam, then picked it up. “Fletcher here.” He listened for a moment, grimaced, said, “Yes, Ernest, put her through.” Holding out the receiver and sliding the stand across the desk towards Daisy, he informed her, “Your mama.”
“Blast!” She gingerly put the receiver to her ear, as Alec shepherded the others out. “Mother?”
“Daisy! What’s this I hear?”
“I don’t know, Mother, until you tell me.”
“I gather the ne’er-do-well husband of Violet’s unfortunate protégée has turned up like a bad penny.”
Unfortunate in the sense of undesirable, not unlucky, Daisy felt sure. And she’d considered Martha her own protégée, not Violet’s. But where the dowager was concerned, the less said the better. “Samuel Dalrymple has arrived, yes.”
“The innkeeper.”
“The sailor, Mother.”
“Even worse. One may hope that now Violet will see the folly of becoming intimate with such impossible people.”
Time to change the subject. “How is Violet?”
“If you ever came to see us, you’d know.”
“I’ve been several times, Mother! Even though I’m rather busy helping Geraldine entertain her guests.”
“What does she expect with such an ill-assorted, ill-bred party? I assume your husband hasn’t yet worked out who is Edgar’s heir.”
“It’s not his responsibility.”
“What’s the use of having a policeman in the family if he can’t separate the pretenders from the real?”
“It’s Tommy Pearson’s job. The lawyer.”
“If Edgar had had the sense to stay with the lawyers who served the family for centuries, all this nonsense would have been finished with years ago.”