Black Widow. S. Fowler Wright

know you were here at the time, but if things stand as they do now when the inquest’s resumed, there may be evidence that these threats were made, and there’ll be a vague suspicion against yourself that you’ll find it hard to shake off. I suppose you know how people talk, without troubling to get the facts straight. And if that kind of talk once begins, it gets worse as the years go on.

      “It seems to me that you’ve got more interest than most in getting it properly cleared up, and the truth proved, whatever it may turn out to be.”

      Mr. Redwin listened to this argument with an expressionless face. Then a slight smile of derision came to his lips as he asked: “And you want to make me believe that you can’t see through it without my help? Well, you may be right about that. But I don’t know—”

      The sentence stopped abruptly as a bucolic couple, delayed at the local cattle market, noisily and hastily entered the room.

      The Inspector cursed inwardly, and then considered that there might be no loss on either side if there should be an interval for reflection on that which had been said already.

      He rose and called for his bill.

      “Well,” he said, with as much geniality as he felt able to show, “you might think it over, and we’ll have another chat later.”

      He held out a hand, which was somewhat reluctantly taken, and went out to face the two-mile walk back to the police station. He felt that he would be glad of the quiet opportunity of reviewing a suggestive and yet rather baffling conversation. And after that he would have another talk with Trackfield. He saw that he was not likely to go back tomorrow. There was more in this than appeared. It was unfortunate that he could form no opinion as to what it might be.

      CHAPTER VII.

      “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you since before lunch,” Superintendent Trackfield began, as Inspector Pinkey entered his office, and before he could commence the narrative of his own experiences. “I had Forbes and Fisher on the phone just before noon. They wanted to know when the adjourned inquest would be likely to be held, or if there were any other developments in connection with Sir Daniel’s death. They seemed to want to know more than they liked to ask, and when I told them that you were down here, and had the case in hand, they were anxious to speak to you, if possible, before three o’clock, when they have an appoint­ment with another solicitor, who’s arriving here from London on the two-fifty.”

      “Any idea what it’s about?”

      “I asked that, of course. I told them that we should be more likely to be able to help them if we knew why the information was required. They were very guarded in their reply, but I gathered that it is some financial question regarding Sir Daniel’s estate. I didn’t press it beyond that, as I felt the matter was in your hands. I rang up Bywater Grange, and learned that you were staying there over tonight, but that they weren’t expecting you back until late, so I thought you’d be likely to look in here before long. I promised Fisher I’d ring him up again at two-thirty, and let him know if I’d been able to get in touch with you.”

      “What did you say the name of the firm is?”

      “Forbes and Fisher. They’re the leading firm in these parts. It’s a branch office here.”

      “Didn’t you mention them once before?”

      “Did I? Oh yes. It was they whom Redwin asked to take up his case, and they turned him down.”

      “But he surely wouldn’t have gone to Sir Daniel’s firm? He couldn’t have been his secretary for three years without knowing who his lawyers were.”

      “They didn’t act for Sir Daniel, as far as I’ve heard. His lawyers were a London firm—Scarf, Scarf, and Wheeler. I don’t know how Forbes and Fisher come on the scene now.”

      “Well, we soon shall. And if they want information from us, I think I’ll invite them to say what Redwin asked them to do for him, and why they refused.”

      “You don’t think he was concerned in Sir Daniel’s death?”

      “No, I don’t. But I’ve had lunch with him, and I’ve seldom met anything more suggestive than the things he hints, and won’t say. I haven’t done with him yet.”

      “He must have seen a good deal, living in the house for three years. But we’ve got to remember that he’s a malicious and discredited man.”

      “There’s no doubt he’s malicious. As to being discredited, I should say we ought to reserve opinion till we know more about how he came to leave the house in that sudden way. I shall be interested to hear Lady Denton’s account of that.”

      “You haven’t got anything specific from him so far?”

      “No. He wasn’t easy to handle at first, and the conversation was broken off when some men came into the room. He professed to be very bitter about the enquiries concerning his own movements which you very properly made. I told him that he brought them on himself, and he’d always be under some vague suspicion unless the matter were properly cleared. I can’t say he opened up after that. But he made it plain that he thought it was murder, and that he wasn’t surprised—that was the significant point—that it should have happened soon after he left. He hinted that if we were any good, we should be able to manage without his help.”

      “Well, perhaps we shall. You haven’t been down here for twenty-four hours yet, and things are beginning to stir.”

      It was a generous speech, as Inspector Pinkey could not fail to perceive. The Superintendent might still wonder in his own mind whether it might not have been as well to arrest Adelaide Denton at once, as he had decided to do, and how things might have gone then.

      But he knew that whatever development there might now be would be ascribed—perhaps justly—to the superior technique and wider experience of the Metropolitan officer. Only in one event—if he should ultimately come to the same conclusion as to Lady Denton’s guilt—would Superintendent Trackfield be confirmed in the Chief Constable’s eyes as being adequate to the office he held. He did not exactly desire her conviction. She was an attractive lady, against whom he would have said that such an accusation was absurd a short fortnight ago. But he would not have been normally intelligent—and he was something better than that—had he not seen the position in which he stood.

      Inspector Pinkey was moved to reply with equal generosity, and partial truth: “You mustn’t thank me too much for that. I’ve done no more at the Grange than to confirm what you’d done before. And whatever these lawyers are going to spill, you’d have got without help from me. I shouldn’t wonder if I’m back in London in a couple of days with no more to report than that you were taking the right course when you decided to give the lady a rent-free lodging.”

      “Well, it still points to her. If we could get something more in the way of motive than we have now….”

      “Yes—if, as you say. We may be coming to something we haven’t guessed, and we can’t tell where it’ll point. But it’s about time we gave these gentle­men a ring up.”

      A moment later the Inspector was informed that Mr. Fisher’s voice was at the other end of the wire.

      “Yes,” he said. “Inspector Pinkey from Scotland Yard.”

      “Could you tell me if the adjourned inquest on Sir Daniel Denton is likely to be held at an early date?”

      “I am afraid I can’t give you any information unless I know why it’s required.”

      “It is in connection with an important point which has arisen in the course of the realization of Sir Daniel’s estate.”

      “Realization? Isn’t it rather early for that? I shouldn’t have thought you’d have had time even to prove the will.”

      “Well, perhaps it wasn’t quite the right word. I should explain that we are not the solicitors for Sir Daniel’s estate. We are acting for other interests. The question of proving the will does