At Bertram's Hotel - Agatha Christie [29]
“No, I don’t,” said Egerton. “The only hope is to settle out of court. It might even be held that you’ve rendered yourself liable to criminal prosecution.”
“Oh, look here, Richard, that’s carrying things a bit far.”
There was a small discreet buzz on Egerton’s desk. He picked up the telephone receiver with a frown.
“I thought I said I wasn’t to be disturbed.”
There was a murmur at the other end. Egerton said, “Oh. Yes—Yes, I see. Ask her to wait, will you.”
He replaced the receiver and turned once more to his unhappy looking client.
“Look here, Freddie,” he said, “I know the law and you don’t. You’re in a nasty jam. I’ll do my best to get you out of it, but it’s going to cost you a bit. I doubt if they’d settle for less than twelve thousand.”
“Twelve thousand!” The unfortunate Freddie was aghast. “Oh, I say! I haven’t got it, Richard.”
“Well, you’ll have to raise it then. There are always ways and means. If she’ll settle for twelve thousand, you’ll be lucky, and if you fight the case it’ll cost you a lot more.”
“You lawyers!” said Freddie. “Sharks, all of you!”
He rose to his feet. “Well,” he said, “do your bloody best for me, Richard old boy.”
He took his departure, shaking his head sadly. Richard Egerton put Freddie and his affairs out of his mind, and thought about his next client. He said softly to himself, “The Honourable Elvira Blake. I wonder what she’s like…” He lifted his receiver. “Lord Frederick’s gone. Send up Miss Blake, will you.”
As he waited he made little calculations on his desk pad. How many years since—? She must be fifteen—seventeen—perhaps even more than that. Time went so fast. “Coniston’s daughter,” he thought, “and Bess’s daughter. I wonder which of them she takes after?”
The door opened, the clerk announced Miss Elvira Blake and the girl walked into the room. Egerton rose from his chair and came towards her. In appearance, he thought, she did not resemble either of her parents. Tall, slim, very fair, Bess’s colouring but none of Bess’s vitality, with an old-fashioned air about her; though that was difficult to be sure of, since the fashion in dress happened at the moment to be ruffles and baby bodices.
“Well, well,” he said, as he shook hands with her. “This is a surprise. Last time I saw you, you were eleven years old. Come and sit here.” He pulled forward a chair and she sat down.
“I suppose,” said Elvira, a little uncertainly, “that I ought to have written first. Written and made an appointment. Something like that, but I really made up my mind very suddenly and it seemed an opportunity, since I was in London.”
“And what are you doing in London?”
“Having my teeth seen to.”
“Beastly things, teeth,” said Egerton. “Give us trouble from the cradle to the grave. But I am grateful for the teeth, if it gives me an opportunity of seeing you. Let me see now; you’ve been in Italy, haven’t you, finishing your education there at one of these places all girls go to nowadays?”
“Yes,” said Elvira, “the Contessa Martinelli. But I’ve left there now for good. I’m living with the Melfords in Kent until I make up my mind if there’s anything I’d like to do.”
“Well, I hope you’ll find something satisfactory. You’re not thinking of a university or anything like that?”
“No,” said Elvira, “I don’t think I’d be clever enough for that.” She paused before saying, “I suppose you’d have to agree to anything if I did want to do it?”
Egerton’s keen eyes focused sharply.
“I am one of your guardians, and a trustee under your father’s will, yes,” he said. “Therefore, you have a perfect right to approach me at anytime.”
Elvira said, “Thank you,” politely. Egerton asked:
“Is there anything worrying you?”
“No. Not really. But you see, I don’t know anything. Nobody’s ever told me things. One doesn’t always like to ask.”
He looked at her attentively.
“You mean things about yourself?”
“Yes,” said Elvira. “It’s kind of you to understand. Uncle Derek—” she hesitated.
“Derek Luscombe, you mean?”
“Yes. I’ve always called him uncle.”
“I see.”
“He’s very kind,” said Elvira, “but he’s not the sort of person