‘Ah!’ said Mrs Cutts. ‘And supposin’ my young gentleman should come ’ome and look for them letters, as it might be tonight, wot a peck of trouble I might be in. Do right and shame the devil is my motter, but motters won’t feed a fambly o’ children when a ’ard-workin’ woman loses ’er job — now, will they, sir?’
I thought the time had come to lend an air of business to the bargain. I drew a five-pound note from my pocket, and let it crackle pleasantly between my fingers. Her eyelids twitched, but she said nothing.
‘Before we go any further,’ I said, ‘I must look at the letters and see that they are actually from the person you mention, and that they are of genuine interest to me. In the meanwhile, since I have put you to some trouble—’
I pushed the note towards her, but held my hand over it.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘I don’t mind lettin’ you ’ave a look. Looks breaks no bones, as the sayin’ is.’ She fumbled in a remote pocket beneath her skirt and produced a small packet of papers.
‘My eyes ain’t so good as they was,’ she added, with sudden caution. ‘ ’Ere, Archie!’
The ferrety youth (who must have been listening at the door) answered the summons with suspicious promptness. I noticed that he had provided himself with a formidable-looking stick and immediately pushed my chair back against the wall. Mrs Cutts slowly detached one letter from the bundle, and spread it out flat on the table, disengaging it from its folds with a well-licked thumb.
‘W’ich one is this, Archie?’
The youth glanced sideways at the letter and replied:
‘That’s the do-something-quick one, Mother.’
‘Ah! and wi’ch is the one about the pore gentleman as was done in in a play?’
‘ ’Ere you are, Mother.’
She slid the letters across to meet my hand. I released the note; she released the letters and the exchange was effected.
These were the letters numbered 43 and 44, and dated August 2nd and October 5th respectively, as above. If you will glance back to them, you will see that they offered valuable evidence.
I at once recognised them for genuine documents in my stepmother’s handwriting.
‘How many letters have you?’
‘Well there’s more than I ’ave ’ere. But them as I ’old in my ’and w’ich makes eight, countin’ them two, is the ones as ’ud interest anybody as wanted to know w’y a gentleman might die sudden.’
‘Are there any that say definitely how he died or what he died of?’
‘No,’ said Mrs Cutts. ‘I wouldn’t deceive a gentleman like you, sir. Tell the truth, likewise fair and square. Them eight letters, sir, is wot they calls excitements to murder, and would be so considered by any party as might ’appen to receive them. But as for saying in so many words “weed-killer” or “prussic acid”, I will not say as you will find them words in black and white.’
‘That, of course, detracts from their value,’ I said carelessly. ‘These letters are evidence of sad immorality, no doubt, Mrs Cutts, but it’s one thing to wish a person dead and another to kill him.’
‘There ain’t sech a great difference,’ said Mrs Cutts, a little shaken. ‘It says in the Bible — “ ’E that ’ateth ’is brother is a murderer,” now, don’t it, sir? And there’s some as sits on juries ’as the same way of thinkin’.’
‘Maybe,’ said I, ‘but all the same, it’s not proof.’
‘Very good, sir,’ said Mrs Cutts with dignity. ‘I wouldn’t contradict a gentleman. You ’and me them letters back, Archie. The gentleman don’t want ’em. Ef Mr Lathom ’ad any sense ’e’d burn the rubbishin’ stuff, and so I’ll tell ’im, clutterin’ up the place.’
‘I don’t say that, Mrs Cutts,’ said I, holding on to the letters. ‘They are of interest, but not of as much interest as I thought they might be. What value did you think of placing on them?’
‘To them as knew ’ow to use ’em’ — here Mrs Cutts appeared to size me up from head to toe — ‘letters like them might be worth a ’undred pounds apiece.’
‘Rubbish,’ said I. ‘I’ll give you fifty pounds for the lot, and that’s more than they’re worth.’
I put the two letters back on the table and flicked at them disdainfully.
‘Fifty pound!’ shrieked Mrs Cutts, ‘fifty pound! And me riskin’ losin’ a job as is worth more than that any day in recommendations and perks, not countin’ my money regular every week!’
She gathered the letters together and began to tie the packet up again.
‘Mr Lathom ’ud give five times that much to know as they wos safe,’ she added.
‘Not he,’ said I. ‘I doubt if he has as much as a hundred pounds in the world. Whereas, if your son likes to come round with me to my hotel, I can give him cash on the nail.’
‘No,’ said Mrs Cutts. ‘I can’t let them letters go. Supposin’ Mr Lathom wanted to read ’em and they wasn’t there.’
‘That’s your affair,’ said I. ‘If you don’t want to sell them, you can keep them. If I were you I’d put them back quickly where you found them, and say nothing to Mr Lathom about it. There’s such a thing as blackmail, you know, Mrs Cutts, and judges are pretty strict about it.’
Mrs Cutts laughed scornfully.
‘Blackmail! Nobody ain’t goin’ to charge theirselves with murder, and don’t you think it.’
‘There’s no murder there,’ said I. ‘Good-night.’
I rose to go. The woman let me get as far as the door and then came after me.
‘See ’ere, sir. You’re a gentleman, and I don’t want to be ’ard on a gentleman wot’s pore father ’as died sudden. Give me two ’undred pound, and I’ll let yer take copies of ’em and Archie shall go with you and bring ’em back.’
‘Copies don’t count so well in a court of law as originals,’ I said.
‘They could be swore to,’ said Mrs Cutts.
‘Not at this time of night,’ said I.
The youth Archie leaned across and whispered to his mother. She nodded and smiled her unpleasant smile.
‘See ’ere, sir, I’ll risk it. Archie shall bring you them letters to your ’otel in the mornin’ and you shall take copies and ’ave them swore to afore a lawyer. I dursn’t let you ’ave them, really I dursn’t, sir. I’m takin’ a sad risk as it is for a respectable woman.’
‘Very well,’ I replied. ‘But copies are only worth a hundred pounds to me at the very outside.’
‘You’re makin’ a very ’ard bargain, sir.’
‘It’s that or nothing,’ said I.
‘Well, sir, if you say so. I’ll send Archie round at ten o’clock, sir.’
I agreed to this and walked away, glad to get out. I lay awake all night, fancying that Mrs Cutts would go to Lathom in the interval and make better terms with him.
However, Archie was there with the letters in the morning as agreed, and I took him and them round to a solicitor’s where typed copies were made and sworn. I also made an affidavit that I recognised the writing of the originals as being in my stepmother’s handwriting. I then paid the lad the agreed hundred pounds in Treasury notes, and dismissed him.