Part 14 (1/2)
”The photograph is a fact,” agreed Bill Thorpe with un-diminished amiability.
”And so is the name of Jenkins not being on this memorial.”
”The evidence is before our very eyes, as the conjurors say.”
”And the police say Grace Jenkins wasn't my mother.”
Bill Thorpe looked down at her affectionately. ”I reckon that makes you utterly orphan, don't you?”
She nodded.
”Quite a good thing, really,” said Thorpe easily.
Henrietta's head came up with a jerk. ”Why?”
”I don't have to ask anyone's permission to marry you.”
She didn't respond. ”I'm worse than just orphan. I don't even know who I am or who my parents were.”
”Does it matter?”
”Matter?” Henrietta opened her eyes very wide.
”Well, I can see it's important with-say-s.h.i.+re Oak Majestic. A bull's got to have a good pedigree to be worth anything.”
”I fail to see any connection,” said Henrietta icily.
”I'm not in love with your ancestors...”
The verger ambled up behind them. ”Found what you were looking for, sir, on that memorial?”
”What's that? Oh, yes, thank you, verger,” said Thorpe. ”We found what we were looking for all right.”
”That's good, sir. Good afternoon to you both.”
Not unexpectedly, Mr. Felix Arbican or Messrs. Waind, Arbican & Waind, Solicitors, shared Henrietta's view rather than Bill Thorpe's on the importance of parentage. He heard her story out and then said, ”Tricky.”
”Yes,” agreed Henrietta politely. She regarded that as a gross understatement.
”It raises several-er-legal points.”
”Not only legal ones,” said Henrietta.
”What's that? Oh, yes, quite so. The accident, for instance.” Arbican made a gesture of sympathy. ”I'm sorry. There are so many cars on the road these days.” He brought his hands up to form a pyramid under his chin. ”She was walking, you say...”
”She was.”
”Then there should be less question of liability.”
”There is no question of where the blame for the accident lies,” said Henrietta slowly. ”Only the driver still has to be found.”
”He didn't stop?”
She shook her head.
”Nor report it to the police?”
”Not that I've heard.”
”That's a great pity. If he had done, there would have been little more to do-little more from a professional point of view, that is, than to settle the question of responsibility with the insurance company, and agree damages.”
Henrietta inclined her head in silence.
”And they usually settle out of court.”
Henrietta moistened her lips. ”There is to be an inquest... on Sat.u.r.day morning.”
”Naturally.”
”Is Berebury too far for you to come?”
”You want me to represent you? If your-er-mother was a client of mine at one time-and it seems very much as if she must have been, then I will certainly do that.”
”The Inspector told me she came to you once...”
”A long time ago.”
”You don't recall her?”
Arbican shook his head.
Henrietta lapsed back in her chair in disappointment ”I was so hoping you would. I need someone who knew her before very badly...”
”Quite so.” The solicitor coughed. ”I think in these-er- somewhat unusual circ.u.mstances my advice would be that you should first establish if a legal adoption has taken place. That would put a different complexion on the whole affair. You say there are no papers in the house whatsoever?”
”None. There was this burglary, you see...”
Arbican nodded. ”It doesn't make matters easier.”
”No.”
”In the absence of any written evidence we could begin a search of the court adoption registers...” Henrietta looked up eagerly.
”But it will necessarily be a slow business. There are about forty County Courts, you see, and-er-several hundred Magistrates' Courts.”
”I see.”
”A will,” said Arbican cautiously, ”might clarify matters.”
”In what way?”