Strong Poison: Chapter 19 - Miss Climpson and the Wrayburn Will

SPEAKER_1 (0:00)

Chapter 19 Miss Climpson stayed the night in the spare bedroom.

Catherine A. Climpson (0:06)

The best thing, she said, will be for you to write a little letter to Mr. Urquhart, explaining about the seance, and saying that you thought it best and safest to send the will on to him.

SPEAKER_1 (0:21)

He will be very much surprised, said Miss Booth. I wonder what he will say.

Lawyers don't believe in spirit communications as a rule, and he'll think it rather funny that we should have managed to open the safe.

Catherine A. Climpson (0:32)

Well, but the spirit led us directly to the combination, didn't it? He could hardly expect you to ignore a message like that, could he?

The proof of your good faith is that you are sending the will straight to him. And it would be as well, don't you think, if you asked him to come up and check the other contents of the safe and have this combination altered?

SPEAKER_1 (1:01)

Wouldn't it be better if I kept the will and asked him to come for it?

Catherine A. Climpson (1:04)

But perhaps he requires it urgently.

SPEAKER_1 (1:08)

Then why hasn't he been to fetch it? Miss Climpson noted with some irritation that where spiritualistic messages were not concerned, Miss Booth showed signs of developing an independent judgment.

Catherine A. Climpson (1:19)

Perhaps he doesn't know yet that he wants it. Perhaps the spirits foresaw an urgent need that will only arise tomorrow.

SPEAKER_1 (1:30)

Oh, yes, that's quite likely.

If only people would avail themselves more fully of the marvelous guidance given to them, so much might be foreseen and provided for. Well, I think you are right. We will find a big envelope to fit it, and I will write a letter, and we will send it by the first post tomorrow.

Catherine A. Climpson (1:47)

It had better be registered, said Miss Climpson. If you will entrust it to me, I will take it down to the post office first thing.

SPEAKER_1 (1:57)

Will you? That will be a great relief to my mind.

Well, now, I'm sure you're as tired as I am, so I'll put on a kettle for the hot water bottles, and we'll turn in. Will you make yourself comfy in my sitting room? I've only got to put the sheets on your bed.

What? No, indeed. I can do it in a moment. Please don't bother. I'm so used to making beds.

Catherine A. Climpson (2:18)

Then I'll see to the kettles, said Miss Climpson. I simply must make myself useful.

SPEAKER_1 (2:24)

Very well. It won't take long. The water is quite hot in the kitchen boiler. Left alone in the kitchen with a kettle bumping and singing on its way to boiling point, Miss Climpson wasted no time.

She tiptoed quickly out again and stood with ear cocked at the foot of the stairs, listening to the nurses' footsteps as they pattered into the distance. Then she slipped into the little sitting room, took up the will in its sealed envelope and a long thin paper knife, which she had already marked down as a useful weapon, and hastened back to the kitchen. It is astonishing how long a kettle which seems to be on the verge of boiling will take before the looked-for jet of steady steam emerges from its spout.

Delusive little puffs and deceptive pauses in the song tantalise the watcher interminably. It seemed to Miss Climpson that there would have been time to make twenty beds before the kettle boiled that evening. But even a watched pot cannot absorb heat forever.

After what appeared to be an hour but was actually about seven minutes, Miss Climpson, guilty and furtive, was holding the flap of the envelope before the scalding steam.

Catherine A. Climpson (3:25)

I mustn't hurry, said Miss Climpson. Oh, blessed saints, I mustn't hurry or I shall tear it.

SPEAKER_1 (3:31)

She slipped the paper knife under the flap. It lifted. It opened cleanly, just as Miss Booth's step resounded in the passage.

Miss Climpson adroitly dropped the paper knife behind the stove and thrust the envelope, with the flap doubled back to prevent it from re-sticking itself behind a dish cover on the wall. The water's ready, she cried blithely.

Catherine A. Climpson (3:52)

Where are the bottles?

SPEAKER_1 (3:55)

It is a tribute to her nerve that she filled them with a steady hand.

Miss Booth thanked her and departed upstairs, a bottle in each hand.

Miss Climpson pulled the will from its hiding place, drew it from its envelope and glanced swiftly through it. It was not a long document, and in spite of the legal phraseology, its purport was easily gathered. Within three minutes she had replaced it, moistened the gum and stuck the flap down again. She put it in her petticoat pocket, for her garments were of a useful and old-fashioned kind, and went to hunt in the pantry. When Miss Booth returned, she was making tea peacefully.