Free Ways and Means by Henry Cecil Page A

never will.’
    Mr Mallet looked sympathetic. ‘I’m terribly sorry. Try to tell me about it. Your wife has left you for another man?’
    Basil looked surprised. ‘That’s very quick of you.’
    ‘It’s my job. How long has it been going on?’
    ‘I can’t say exactly. I wouldn’t have believed it possible. It’s my oldest friend who’s done it, damn him — but I’ll get her back yet.’
    ‘Then you’ve not come for a divorce?’
    ‘Not if I can help it. Anyway, there are no grounds — none that I can prove at the moment.’
    ‘Where is your wife now?’
    ‘She’s gone to live in his flat.’
    ‘Grounds enough for divorce, I should say, if you want it.’
    ‘His wife is there too.’
    ‘Oh, I see. That does make a difference. Please tell me all about it from the start.’
    Half an hour later Mr Mallet, in Basil’s presence, dictated the following letter to Nicholas:
    Dear Sir, I have been consulted by my client Mr Basil Merridew in regard to his domestic affairs. My client informs me that as a direct and intended result of your behaviour his wife has left him and gone to stay with you and your wife. Our client is devoted to his wife and is desperately anxious for her to return. I am, therefore, to request you to ask Mrs Merridew to go home at once. Her husband is waiting anxiously for her and prepared to forget the past if she will only come back. It is for this reason that I say no more about your conduct in this affair or about the consequences which will follow if Mrs Merridew does not return within four days.
    Basil approved the letter.
    ‘Try not to worry too much,’ counselled Mr Mallet. ‘I’ll let you know if I have any reply, but I hope that you may hear something first.’
    ‘You’re very kind.’
    A few days later Basil received a message asking him to call on Mr Mallet.
    ‘I’ve had a reply,’ said the solicitor. ‘Not very satisfactory, I’m afraid.’
    This is what Nicholas had written:
    Dear Sir, Your client’s effrontery does not surprise me. His wife has come to us of her own free will for protection. Nevertheless, in view of the threat implied in your letter and the fact that I do not wish to be involved in legal proceedings, I asked Mrs Merridew if she would return to your client. I am bound to say that I did so against the will of my wife and with a feeling of great reluctance. I felt ashamed of asking anyone to live with your client. I was not surprised when Mrs Merridew said that she would prefer to jump into the Thames and added that, if we turned her out, that is what she would do rather than return to your client. May I ask what you as an officer of the law would do in such a case? I believe Mrs Merridew to be desperate. If I turn her out she may commit suicide. If she did, would I not be a party to that crime? Would not your client? Would not you? In the light of these facts, do you and your client still request me to send Mrs Merridew home?
    ‘The blackguard,’ said Basil. ‘A tissue of lies. We’ve never had a quarrel — not that you could speak of. As I told you, she was devoted to me until that little rat started to come between us. Well, what are we to do?’
    ‘It’s not easy. At the moment you’ve nothing but your own evidence, and I can only guess at what your wife and Drewe will say.’ Mr Mallet thought for a moment. Then he said:
    ‘I think our next course will be to write and ask if Mrs Merridew has any objection to being examined by a psychologist. If she objects, we’ll have to think again. If she agrees, however, we should be able to find out whether she really is in the frame of mind Mr Drewe suggests. If their story is correct, she’s terrified of living with you. A psychologist should be able to find out whether she really is. If your story’s true, she isn’t in the least afraid.’
    ‘Of course my story’s true.’
    ‘Naturally, I accept your word, Mr Merridew. It isn’t for me to try the case, but to do my best for you. Now,