A Change of Heir by Michael Innes Read Free Book Online Page A

crazy.’ Gadberry tossed Mrs Minton’s letter contemptuously on the table. ‘On the very first evening, at dinner and over our second glass of barley-water, she’d say “How about the mortadella ?” Or she’d say that in whatever way Addison would have said it. And I’d merely goggle at her. Can’t you see?’
    ‘There are difficulties, of course.’ Comberford’s assurance appeared unruffled. ‘But there are ways round them, as well. You’ll come on one way round them when you turn over the page. So carry on.’
    ‘Oh, very well.’ With some reluctance, Gadberry retrieved the letter and resumed his reading.
     
    I was the more gratified in that, as a Boy, you had been not without a censurable Predisposition to take Satisfaction in the Tormenting of the humblest Creatures. There was the Episode of the Belgian Hare; there was the yet more deplorable Episode of the faithful Tiger.
     
    ‘For pity’s sake!’ This time Gadberry threw up his arms in despair. ‘Can’t you see, you fool? What sort of figure should I cut in the course of a little reminiscent chat about the faithful tiger? And who ever heard of a faithful tiger, anyway?’
    ‘My dear chap, Tiger was an Aberdeen terrier. And you’re coming, quite precisely, to the crunch. Just try the next paragraph.’
     
    It is true that, in your Great-uncle’s copious Memoirs, these Incidents were balanced, perhaps outweighed, by numerous Recollections of the less unendearing Traits of your Childhood. It was only a few Days after his Funeral, indeed, that, having your Future much upon my Mind, I thought to refresh my Memory by consulting those valuable Papers. Alas, upon going to the Cupboard in the Library in which I knew them to have long reposed, I made the sad Discovery that they were no longer extant. Such was the noble Modesty of your Great-uncle’s Nature that he had undoubtedly destroyed the entire Series of his interesting Memorabilia shortly before his Demise.
     
    ‘You see?’ It was Comberford who interrupted this time, and he did so in a tone of triumph. ‘The old dotard had scribbled copiously for years on every trivial event of his life. And I carried off the lot.’
    ‘You what ?’
    ‘The day after the funeral. I was inspired, you see. It can only be called that. The thought simply came to me that the stuff might be useful one day. So I nipped into the library and collected it. There’s nothing, absolutely nothing, in the old girl’s memories of my visits to Bruton as a kid that isn’t more than matched in the old boy’s scribblings. Just read the rubbish through, and you can cap every recollection that Aunt Prudence has with half a dozen more. As for what happened in the couple of days I was there for the funeral, I can give you that verbatim . The thing’s foolproof, George. It would be foolproof even if you were a fool – which you’re not.’
    Gadberry stared at Comberford with a kind of fascinated horror. For the first time, the fantastic proposal he was up against seemed to him to have veered into the region of the possible.
    ‘Look here!’ he said wildly, ‘let’s get back to essentials. People just can’t successfully impersonate each other. The mere physical thing’s unworkable. Are we really all that like each other? I don’t believe it. And our mannerisms and intonations and so forth are totally different. The deception would blow up in the first ten minutes.’
    ‘It would blow up then – or never . Le premier pas , as I said before. And we are extravagantly like each other – far more than I could reasonably have hoped. Or rather, you’re extravagantly like me five or six years ago.’
    ‘There you are, then. This isn’t five or six years ago. It’s–’
    ‘Don’t be an ass, George. It’s precisely the point that will make your acceptance instantaneous – not only by Aunt Prudence, but by any remaining servants who were around at the time of the funeral. That’s psychology, old chap.’
    ‘But