SPREADING HIS WINGS
A disagreeable surprise awaited him when he reached St. Paul's
Churchyard. Taking it for granted that everything would now belong to
Gladys, he was prepared to act as her representative and sole
relative, and, if needs be, carry things off with a high hand--above
and beyond all else, he was desirous of gaining access to certain
documents whose existence constituted a peril to him. To that end he
arrived before his usual time, being conscious that this was an
occasion on which it might be an advantage to be first on the field.
To his disgust he found that at least two persons were in front of
him, and that they were both in what had been his uncle's private
room. One was Mr. Andrews, the managing man, the other was a
square-jawed individual, whose blue cheeks pointed to a life-long
struggle with a refractory beard. He was seated, as one in authority,
in his uncle's own chair behind his uncle's own table. They were
busily conversing as Rodney came unannounced into the room, but
paused to stare at him.
"This," explained Mr. Andrews to the man in the chair, "is Mr. Rodney
Elmore--the nephew I was telling you about."
There was a lack of deference in the speaker's tone which the young
gentleman resented, and had resented in silence more than once in the
days which were past; but the time for silence was gone. He had been
making up his mind on that point on his way to the City. Recognising,
from the bearing of the two men in front of him, that a new and,
as yet, unknown factor bade fair to figure on the scene, with
characteristic readiness he arrived at an instant resolution. Ignoring
Andrews, he addressed himself to the man in the chair.
"May I ask, sir, who you are?"
The stranger's penetrating eyes were set deep in his head; he fixed
them on the young gentleman's face with a steady stare of evident
surprise. Rodney returned him stare for stare.
"You may ask, young gentleman, and, though I seriously doubt if
you are entitled to ask, I don't mind telling you. My name is
Wilkes--Stephen Wilkes; I am your late uncle's legal adviser, and
am here to safeguard the interests he has left behind."
"Then, Mr. Wilkes, be so good as to get out of that chair."
Mr. Andrews looked at the speaker in shocked amazement.
"Mr. Elmore! You forget yourself! How dare you speak like that to a
gentleman in Mr. Wilkes's position."
For answer, Rodney turned to the managing man, addressing him as
curtly and peremptorily as if he had been some menial servant.
"Andrews, leave the room!"
The other's eyes opened still wider; probably he had never been so
spoken to before, even by his late master in his most irascible moods.
He drew up his spare and rather bowed figure with what he perhaps
meant to be a touch of dignity.
"Mr. Elmore, the consequences will be very serious if you talk to me
like that."
"The consequences will be very serious if you don't obey my orders."
"Your orders?"
"My orders. Are you going to leave the room, or am I to put you out?"
"Steady, young gentleman, steady. I have been your uncle's legal
adviser for perhaps more years than you have been in the world, and
am, therefore, intimately acquainted with his wishes. I am here to see
those wishes carried out. I understand that you occupied a very humble
position in this office, and, though accident made you his relative,
you were not in possession of your uncle's confidence. Your position
is in no way altered by his death, and you have no right to issue what
you call orders here--emphatically not to Mr. Andrews. If there is any
question as to who is to leave the room, it is certainly not Mr.
Andrews who must go, but you."
"Mr. Wilkes, I do not propose to bandy words, and when I have once
pointed out that you entirely misapprehend the situation on that
subject I have done. All that Mr. Patterson had is now his daughter's,
including this business and all that it implies. I am here as Miss
Patterson's representative."
"Indeed! By whom appointed?"
"By Miss Patterson. I may inform you that Miss Patterson will shortly
be my wife."
"Is that so? This is news. Since when has that arrangement been made?"
"Your words imply a sneer and an impertinence. That being so, I
decline to enter into any further details with you beyond a bare
statement of the fact."
"Are you not taking too much for granted in asserting that everything
is left to Miss Patterson?"
"I have not a doubt of it; with the exception, possibly, of some small
legacies. He left a will?"
"He did."
"Is it in your possession?"
"It is."
"Then I must ask you to produce it at once."
"Produce it? To whom?"
"To me. Miss Patterson has instructed me to request you to hand it
over at once to my keeping."
"Then, if that is so, I am afraid that, for the moment, I have no
choice but to ignore the young lady's request. I will see Miss
Patterson."
"Miss Patterson will decline to see you."
"She will decline to see me? On what grounds?"
"It is not necessary that she should state any grounds. Any
communication you wish to have with Miss Patterson must be through me
or her solicitor. Do I understand that you finally refuse to do as she
requests, and hand me her father's will?"
"If you were not a very young man, Mr. Elmore, I should say that you
were a foolish one; but possibly youth is your extenuation. The will
will be produced at the proper time, in the proper place, to the
proper person; it will certainly not be handed to you."
"Then Miss Patterson's solicitor will at once take steps which will
compel its instant production."
"Miss Patterson's solicitor? You really are a remarkable young man! I
am Miss Patterson's solicitor. It was her father's wish that I should
continue to act for her, as I acted for him."
"You will do nothing of the kind. If Mr. Patterson has left any legal
powers to that effect, his daughter will resort to every process of
law to effect your removal; your refusal to withdraw will not redound
to your credit. You say you have been his legal adviser for more years
than I am old. Mr. Patterson was a bad husband and a bad father. He
utterly neglected his daughter; he did nothing to show that he had any
of a parent's natural feelings; although she respected his every wish
and he had no complaint to make of her, he was wholly indifferent to
both her welfare and her happiness; he saw as little of her and did as
little for her as he could. In many respects he was to her both a
reproach and a shame, the sole object of his existence being his own
gross physical enjoyment. Without being, perhaps, what is called an
habitual drunkard, he habitually drank too much, and was frequently
intoxicated in her presence. He was an evil-liver--with his relations
with notorious women you are probably better acquainted than I am;
she, unfortunately, has good reason to know that they were of a
discreditable kind. To crown an ill-spent career he has taken his own
life, under circumstances which can hardly fail to be the cause of
scandal, which may leave a brand on her for the remainder of her life,
though she is still only a girl. You apparently pride yourself on
having been confidential adviser to such a man through a great number
of years. Is it strange, therefore, that she would rather that
somebody else should advise her? Think it over; you will yourself
perceive that it is not strange; I am sure that will be the feeling of
a court of law. Now, Mr. Wilkes, I must again ask you to get out of
that chair."
"And if I refuse?"
Rodney moved to the other side of the table, took Mr. Wilkes--who was
not a big man--by either elbow, lifted him as if he were a child, and
deposited himself on the chair in his place. The solicitor, who had
made not the slightest show of resistance, stood ruefully rubbing his
arms.
"I believe you have put both my elbows out of joint, you young
ruffian."
Rodney was placidity itself.
"Have you never heard of Jiu-jitsu, Mr. Wilkes? You know even better
than I do that you are a trespasser on these premises, and that a
trespasser is a person towards whom one is entitled to use all
necessary force."
Taking a bunch of keys out of his jacket pocket, he inserted one in
the lock of the drawer which was in front of him. Mr. Wilkes surveyed
the proceeding with obvious surprise.
"What keys are those?"
"These are my uncle's keys. They were handed to me by Miss Patterson,
with instructions to go through her father's private papers and
documents, and so ensure their not being tampered with by persons who
certainly have not her interest at heart."
"If you take my earnest advice, young gentleman, you will not touch
anything which is in those drawers. If you are not careful you will go
too far."
"I will not take your advice, Mr. Wilkes--whether earnest or
otherwise. I observe, Andrews, that you are still there. There are one
or two remarks which I wish to make to Mr. Wilkes in private. Once
more, are you going to leave this room?"
The managing man looked at the lawyer as if for advice and help in the
moment of his hesitation.
"Perhaps," said Mr. Wilkes, replying to his unspoken question, "you
had better go. You will commit yourself to nothing by going."
"Whereas," observed Elmore, with his smiling glance fixed on the
managing man, "you will commit yourself to a good deal by not going,
because I shall not only put you out of this door, but into the
street. So far as this office is concerned, that will be the end of
you. I will take steps which will ensure your never entering it
again."
After another brief moment of hesitation, with a glance of what was
very like reproach towards the lawyer, Andrews quitted the room, with
the air of one who was both bewildered and hurt. So soon as he had
gone Mr. Wilkes observed:
"Mr. Elmore, you are taking a very great deal upon yourself; you
certainly have the courage of youth, but be warned by me, don't take
too much. If it is shown that your uncle's depositions are not what
you are taking it for granted they are, your position will be rendered
more difficult by the attitude you are now taking up."
"I care nothing for any warning which comes from you, Mr. Wilkes. Why
did my uncle commit suicide?"
"What do you mean by asking me such a question? Do you imagine that if
I knew I should tell you?"
"Does that mean that you know?"
"It means nothing of the sort; but it does mean that if I had any such
secret knowledge, the only person to whom I should breathe a word of
it would be his daughter."
"That you certainly would not do. Miss Patterson's heartfelt prayer is
that she may never know. That he had some shameful reason is plain; if
it can be kept from her it shall be; if it reaches her through you,
you will deserve to be whipped."
"Mr. Elmore, I knew your father."
"That's more, Mr. Wilkes, than I ever did."
"His end was like your uncle's."
"So I learned from my uncle before--he ended. And it is because the
shame of what he did seems to rest on me, in the mouths of such as
you, that I am resolved to shield my cousin--if I can. I imagine that,
in a strictly scientific sense, you are, in part, responsible for my
uncle's fate."
"How do you arrive at that--somewhat startling conclusion?"
"You aided and abetted him in what he did."
"Indeed! As how?"
"I happen to know that you were more than once his companion when he
was in the society of certain notorious women, with whose character
you were undoubtedly as well acquainted as he was."
"And if I was--what then?"
"If, on more than one occasion, A is in the company of B when B is in
the act of committing a crime, what is the inference we draw as
regards A?"
"You really are a remarkable young man!"
"More. On more than one occasion you have borrowed money from Mr.
Patterson."
"We have had business relations for many years."
"Did he ever borrow money from you?"
"No; because he did not do the class of business I did."
"Exactly. At this moment you are his debtor in a considerable sum."
"I don't know from whom you get your information, but if it is from
your uncle you must be perfectly well aware that the whole matter is
on a proper footing, and that there can be no reasonable doubt as to
my fulfilling my engagements both in the letter and the spirit."
"Still, you have been in the habit of borrowing money from your
client, sometimes, I believe, to save yourself from a difficult
position. Possibly his will contains a clause relieving you of your
indebtedness; possibly, also, a court of law will see its way to
relieve Miss Patterson from any obligation to accept your services. I
will not detain you any longer, Mr. Wilkes. Good morning. Please don't
gossip with the employes as you go out."
Mr. Wilkes looked as if he would have said a good deal; but Mr. Elmore
had already begun to write a letter--there was an air of complete
indifference about him which apparently brought him to the conclusion
that it might perhaps be as well to say nothing. He took his hat off
the table and went out in silence. Presently Rodney, ringing the bell,
said to the lad who answered:
"Take that letter to the address which is on the envelope at once, and
bring me an answer; also tell Mr. Andrews that I wish to speak to
him."
Shortly the managing man appeared in the doorway. One felt that he had
hesitated whether or not to come, and that he was oppressed by
something like a sense of shame at the thought of having yielded. The
young gentleman, leaning back, regarded him with the pleasant little
smile which, so far, had not left him--it was odd of what a number of
subtle inflections his manner was capable without once disturbing the
smile.
"Sit down, Andrews; take this chair."
The other did as he was told, sitting on the extreme edge, leaning
slightly forward, his long legs crooked in front of him, his hands
resting on his knees.
"How old are you, Andrews?"
Instead of replying to the question, the managing man started off on a
line of his own.
"Mr. Elmore, you must excuse my remarking that, so far as I am
concerned, I don't understand the position at all."
"You will, Andrews, shortly. I always have felt that your mental
processes were perhaps a trifle slow."
"I have been in this office, boy and man, practically my whole life
long; I'm older than your uncle was, and I was here before he came. He
was with Harding and Fletcher before he took this business over, and,
so to speak, he took me with it. It was a solid business then, and
it's a solid business still--indeed, it's even better than it was. I'm
almost--if not quite--as well known in the City as he was; he would
have been the first to tell you that with the continued success I have
had something to do. He was, in some ways, a difficult man to deal
with; but no man had a better head for business--if he gave his
confidence, you might be sure it was deserved, and he had entire
confidence in me."
"Hear, hear! Go on; I like to hear you."
"When he said a thing he meant it. It's always been a joke among those
who knew him that Graham Patterson's word was as good as a bank-note.
He has told me more than once that when he was gone----"
"He anticipated going?"
"Not more than other men; only, he was methodical and liked to have
everything in order, and, if he could help it, leave nothing to
chance. He has told me, as I have said, more than once, that when he
was gone--since he only had a daughter--he had arranged that the whole
management of the business should be in my hands, and that he had left
me a small share in it. He said, frankly, some time ago that he would
give me a share in it then and there; if it weren't that he was the
kind of man who never would get on with a partner; and that was the
case--often he was difficult. I am sure, from what he told me, that it
will be found that he has left the management of the business in my
hands, as well as a share. What I don't understand, therefore, is on
what grounds you are taking up the position you appear to be doing. I
am far from wishing to have any unpleasantness with you, Mr. Elmore,
but I do not understand."
"I represent Miss Patterson."
"But I represent the business--which was her father's, not hers."
"But it's hers now, you yourself admit that you only expect to be left
a small share."
"But I'm left the management."
"That's--I am far from wishing to have any unpleasantness with you,
Mr. Andrews, but--you must know that that's all tuppence."
"Pray, Mr. Elmore, what do you mean by that? A will's a will; its
terms are not to be lightly set aside."
"You have not told me how old you are, Mr. Andrews, but you have told
me that you are my uncle's senior."
"So far as head for business goes, I am as young as ever I was."
"I will not contradict you. I am inclined to think that you are as you
were--thirty, forty years ago--that is, in a commercial sense, a
thousand years behind the times."
"You have no right to say that. What do you know about business--a
young man like you?"
"I am a man of business, Mr. Andrews."
"I was not aware of it until this moment."
"You will be more clearly aware of it before long. I was prepared to
marry my cousin had she been penniless, as only the other day--if she
married me--she bade fair to be. In that event I would have made her
fortune, and my own, as sure as you are sitting there. As events have
turned out, so far from being penniless, she is, shall we say, the
three-fourths proprietor of a flourishing business, with, probably,
all the capital at her command which is needed for its development.
Under such circumstances, why should I not devote my energies to the
aggrandisement of her business? If I do, do you suppose for one
instant--will or no will--that the management of affairs will be in
your hands? That you will lead, and I shall follow? Absurd, Andrews;
the business has reached a stage at which it can branch out
advantageously in a dozen different directions."
"I believe there's something in what you say--if it's in the hands of
the right man."
"I am the right man! In the case of equipment of the modern man of
business, if he has a head upon his shoulders, youth is his strongest
card--it assures his being abreast of the procession. I know what can
be done with this business, and it shall be done; I'll do it. In ten
years it shall rank among the greatest of its kind in the City of
London--in the world; if you live till then you'll own it."
"I'm a bachelor. I've saved enough to keep me in comfort. The business
has been to me both wife and child, I could not love it better if it
were my own. If I were sure that it would grow and flourish, always on
a solid basis, I shouldn't care so much about myself; but it would
break my heart, if, for any cause whatever, it were to go to pieces."
"It won't; you'll see. We'll talk about it again when the exact
conditions of my uncle's will are known. Whatever they turn out to be,
I shouldn't be surprised if you and I get on better together than at
this moment you may suppose--you'll find that I like to get on with
everyone. By the way, there is one disagreeable matter which, if we
are to arrive at a perfect understanding, I ought to speak to you
about. Are you aware that during the last few years various small acts
of dishonesty have taken place in this office?"
"Mr. Elmore! I never heard of it."
"My uncle knew; he was speaking to me on the subject only a day or two
ago. I fancy he even knew who the culprit was. He told me that there
were proofs of what he more than hinted at locked up in one of his
drawers. It was because of what he said that I was so anxious to go
through his papers before anyone else could get at them."
"I hope, Mr. Elmore, you are not imputing dishonesty to me?"
"To you, my good Andrews! Do you think I don't know an honest man when
I see one? In that respect I am like my uncle. I am as sure as I am
sure of anything that you are as honest a man as I am--rest quite easy
on that score. I only wished to point out that while you supposed
yourself to be keeping a sharp eye on everything, and that nothing
which took place in the office escaped your notice, these
irregularities were taking place beneath your very nose. However, on
that subject also I may have to speak to you again later. Still
another point. The inquest on my uncle is to be held to-day at
Victoria Station. As you will readily understand, Miss Patterson is
not in a condition to appear at such an inquiry, if her presence can
be dispensed with; we are advised it can. She wishes me to ask you if
you will appear at the inquiry, and give such formal evidence as may
be required. I don't know what questions will be asked you. Frankly,
can you throw any light on any cause which may have induced his rash
act? I take it he had no financial reason?"
"Absolutely none, of that I'm convinced. He had all the money he
wanted, and there was nothing wrong with the business. It's a mystery
to me."
"I fancy it will remain a mystery. Why some men and women make away
with themselves is a mystery which only they themselves could have
solved."
"I don't understand why you and he didn't get on better together."
"Nor I; to me it was a great disappointment. As you have said, he was
difficult. He may have felt that my ideas on business matters were
different from his, and didn't like it."
"Perhaps if he had lived it would have been different."
"We shall never know what, in that case, might have happened. May I
take it that, in the matter of the inquest, you will do as Miss
Patterson asks?"
"I will--certainly."
"Thank you. You increase the debt which she is conscious she owes you
as her father's right-hand man, and which, whatever the terms of his
will may be, she will never forget."
The lad entered to whom he had entrusted the letter.
"Mr. Parmiter has come back with me, sir; he's outside."
"Good; show him in. I think, Mr. Andrews, that, as the inquest is
timed for noon, you had better be starting."
The old man went out, and a young one came into the room--a young man,
with a student's face and fair hair. Although his cheeks were pale,
his appearance was not unprepossessing. Elmore greeted him with
outstretched hands.
"Clarence, old man, it's very good of you to come right away like
this. I hope it's not seriously inconvenienced you."
"Not a bit. Between ourselves, I was sitting in the office twiddling
my thumbs and wondering what I should do now I'd finished reading the
paper."
"I'll give you something to do. Sit down. You've heard what's happened
to my uncle?"
"I remember your telling me you were with an uncle, but I don't know
how many uncles you have nor to which of them you're referring."
"I have, or, rather, had, only one uncle, and last night he committed
suicide in the Brighton train."
"Great Scott! Whatever for?"
"That's it. I'll tell you in as few words as possible what the
position is. He's left a daughter, an only child, who is now an
orphan, to whom I'm engaged to be married. To her he was not--well,
all that a father might have been; he drank, and he womanised."
"Did he? Nice man!"
"That's precisely what he was not--a nice man. She knew very little
about his private affairs, though quite as much as she wanted. He may
have killed himself because he was financially wrong, though,
personally, I doubt it, or for any one of a score of reasons. You'll
guess the state of mind she's in."
"Naturally; in a case like that it's those who are left who suffer
most."
"Of course. She's anxious, before all else, to know where she
stands--that is, to know the worst. His affairs were in the hands of
a solicitor named Wilkes."
"I know him--Stephen Wilkes; he's an able man."
"Maybe. But she doesn't want him for her solicitor all the same for
that, for reasons on which, later, I may enlarge. She's asked me if I
knew anyone who would act for her. I suggested you."
"Thank you, Rodney. You always were a fellow who'd do a chap a good
turn if you would."
"Nonsense! Do you think that I don't know you--even in the old
schooldays? You're as clever a man as you'd be likely to meet in a
long day's journey, and as dependable. You mayn't have the largest
practice in London to-day, but you will have. What's more, I'd trust
you with my bottom dollar, which is more than you can say of the
general run of solicitors nowadays. I told her so."
"I'll try my best to prove worthy of your commendation."
"I've no fear of that, not the least. You may consider Miss Patterson
your client, and me; and we may both of us turn out to be quite good
clients before we've done. I've asked you to come here in order to
give you your first instructions."
"I'm all ears."
"Mr. Wilkes is in possession of my uncle's will; he himself says so.
Miss Patterson wanted him to hand it over to me to pass on to her, but
he declined. Can't you persuade him, acting on Miss Patterson's
behalf, to produce the will at the earliest possible moment--say this
afternoon at four, in her house in Russell Square--and make known its
contents then and there? She'll not sleep till she knows the worst."
"I can try what my persuasive powers will do. Presumably he knows its
contents?"
"Presumably, since it is even probable that he drew it up."
"By it he may be appointed to some office of trust."
"Exactly. That's one of the things she wants to know; because, if he
is, she'll leave no stone unturned to get him out of it. His relations
with her father were such that she'll not be induced to have relations
of any kind with him."
"I see; that's how it is. Persons may be interested whose presence he
may think desirable at the reading and who are not accessible at such
short notice."
"There's nothing in that, Clarence. Candidly, some woman may be
interested; it's only surmise on my part, but it's possible, and her
presence would neither be essential nor advisable. There's the feeling
that whatever her father may have done, Wilkes will not be considering
her interests only--that's why she wants you. Get him to attend this
afternoon in Russell Square with the will; that'll prove to her that I
knew what I was about in suggesting you."
"I'll do my utmost, but you clearly understand that I can't force the
man. There's an etiquette in such matters; he'll be perfectly in order
if he stands on it."
"Do your best, Clarence--that's all I ask, and, if possible, let me
know how it's going to be inside an hour. I want to keep Miss
Patterson posted in what is taking place. If you only knew what a
state of mind she's in!"
When Mr. Parmiter had gone, Rodney, having given instructions that, if
it could be avoided, he was not to be disturbed, subjected the
contents of the drawers in his uncle's writing-table to a thorough
examination. He came across some interesting items. There was a small
leather-bound memorandum-book, which was locked. He opened it with a
key which was on his uncle's private bunch. In a flap attached to the
cover were some cheques which had been duly presented and paid and
some other papers. A glance at the contents of the book showed that
they principally related to him, after a fashion which occasioned him
surprise, blended with amusement. He had no idea that in his uncle the
detective instinct had been so strongly developed. He tore the cheques
and other papers into tiny bits, made a bonfire of them on an iron
shovel, and ground the ashes into powder. The book itself he slipped
into his jacket pocket. In one of the drawers was a canvas bag,
containing quite a number of gold coins, while in a letter-case were
several bank-notes. He put the bag into another of his pockets, just
as it was, and transferred the notes to a letter-case of his own. He
chanced just then to be hard pressed for ready cash, as, indeed, was
his every-day condition. Should certain eventualities arise, the
possession of that money might prove to be of the very first
importance. In still another drawer he found an envelope which was
endorsed, in his uncle's handwriting, "Draft of my Will." He studied
the sheet of ruled foolscap which he took out of it with every
appearance of absorbed interest. It was not a very lengthy document.
When he had read it he laid it on the table, drew a long breath, and
smiled.
"That's all right! It mayn't be all that Gladys would have liked it to
be, but it might have been so much worse; it will serve. A good deal
may depend on the exact wording; but, anyhow, between us we ought to
be able to shape a will like that so that it shall mean, in the not
very far-off future, that I shall be a millionaire--unless I'm a
greater fool than I suppose. I'd like to wager a trifle that in me
there's the stuff that goes to the making of a modern millionaire, and
if the will as it stands is on those lines, it ought to give me at
least an outside chance of proving it. Here's to you, Uncle P., and,
if people can see from the other side, how happy the knowledge that
your daughter and your business are in such capable hands should make
you."
A lad came in with an envelope.
"A messenger boy has just brought this, sir."
The note within ran:
"DEAR RODNEY,--I have carried out your first instructions to the
letter, so I have begun well. Mr. Wilkes will be in Russell Square
this afternoon at four with the will. Unless I hear from you to the
contrary, I shall be there at half-past three--to be introduced to
Miss Patterson, to receive any further instructions, and to be at hand
in case I am wanted generally. You might let me have a message by
bearer.--Yours sincerely,
"CLARENCE PARMITER."