LITMIR.BIZ

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effect. The clerk shuffled off with it into an inner office. He reappeared a few minutes later with the information that Mr Mowbray would make an exception to his invariable rule and see the superintendent at once.

      Hanslet passed into the inner room and found himself confronted by a wizened old man with a peevish and distinctly unwelcoming expression. From his appearance Hanslet guessed that he had been interrupted in his quiet after-lunch doze. The lawyer glared at him.

      ‘Well, Superintendent,’ he wheezed, ‘what is your business?’

      ‘Not a particularly pleasant one, I’m afraid,’ Hanslet replied. ‘Mr Victor Harleston, of eight Matfield Street, was one of your clients, I believe?’

      ‘Was!’ exclaimed the lawyer. ‘Was? Is, you mean. What about him?’

      ‘He died under extremely suspicious circumstances about nine o’clock this morning,’ Hanslet replied equably.

      ‘Eh! What’s this?’ exclaimed the lawyer. ‘Why wasn’t I told about it before?’

      ‘The information has been conveyed to you at the earliest possible moment, Mr Mowbray. Perhaps you will be good enough to give me certain information respecting your late client.’

      The lawyer looked at him obliquely. ‘I must first demand an explanation of the words you used just now,’ he replied. ‘Suspicious circumstances, I think you said. In what way were the circumstances of my client’s death suspicious?’

      ‘It is believed that Victor Harleston died as the result of acute poisoning,’ said Hanslet deliberately.

      ‘Then an inquest will be held?’ Mr Mowbray snapped.

      ‘That is so. It is in view of this inquest that I am asking for information.’

      ‘Well, what do you want to know?’

      ‘First of all I should like information as to Victor Harleston’s age, occupation, and so forth.’

      ‘Victor Harleston was forty-two. He has for many years been employed as a clerk by Messrs. Slater & Knott, Accountants, Chancery Lane. I have every reason to believe that his work has given his employers the fullest satisfaction.’

      ‘Did he possess means beyond his salary?’ Hanslet asked.

      The lawyer glanced at him suspiciously. ‘He enjoys the proceeds of a trust established by his father,’ he replied.

      ‘Were there any conditions attaching to this?’

      This question seemed to rouse the lawyer from his apathy. ‘A most ridiculous affair altogether,’ he exclaimed. ‘Victor’s father, Peter, was always doing the most unaccountable things. He made this foolish will without consulting me and I always told him that trouble would come of it.’

      ‘May I ask for an outline of the provisions of the will, Mr Mowbray?’

      ‘Well, I suppose you’ve a right to know,’ the lawyer replied ungraciously. ‘Peter Harleston began life as a van boy. After that he became an assistant in a greengrocer’s shop. He managed to save money and when his employer died he bought the business. He made a very good thing of it and at the time of his death he was the owner of the house in Matfield Street, and had other investments amounting to between ten and fifteen thousand pounds in all.

      ‘Peter Harleston married twice. By his first wife he had Victor and a girl who died young. By his second wife, he had a boy Philip and a year later a girl, Janet. Peter and his second wife died within a few months of one another, about three years ago.

      ‘Peter was one of those people who imagine that after they are gone their children will squander the money which they have so laboriously amassed. He imagined that he had found a way of preventing this. Victor was already in a good position in an accountant’s office. Philip he provided for by buying him a small share in a fruit farm which carried with it the position of manager. Victor as the eldest son and the one who took most after his father secured the lion’s share. Peter, in that ridiculous will of his, left him the house in Matfield Street, with reversion to Philip if Victor died without issue. The remainder of Peter’s estate was to be formed into a Trust so long as he provided a home for his half-sister Janet. Those were the testator’s actual words. There was no explanation of this exceedingly vague term. There was no provision made for Janet getting married or for her wishing to leave her half-brother’s roof of her own accord. Of course, had I been consulted I should never have allowed such lamentable looseness of expression.’

      ‘And in the event of Victor’s death?’ Hanslet suggested.

      ‘I’m coming to that, I’m coming to that,’ replied the lawyer testily. ‘In that case, the proceeds of the Trust were to be divided. If Victor had married, his widow, or, failing her, his children, were to receive one-third share. The remaining two-thirds were to be enjoyed by Philip and Janet in equal proportion. If Victor had not married, the proceeds of the Trust were to be divided equally between Philip and Janet.’

      ‘The three children were, of course, aware of the contents of their father’s will?’

      ‘Naturally. It was my business to inform them. In fact, Philip came to see me not long ago. He wished to know whether it would be possible for the Trustees to provide for his sister independently. He inquired as to Janet’s condition should she decline to continue to live with her half-brother.’

      ‘I should be interested to know what you told him.’ said Hanslet.

      ‘Told him! My dear sir, I could only refer him to the conditions of the will. Victor was to enjoy the proceeds of the Trust so long as he provided a home for Janet. Whether she availed herself of that home did not affect the issue. If she left it, Victor was under no obligation to support her. He would, however, be bound to re-admit her should she at any time decide to return.’

      This Hanslet thought was sufficient for the moment. He took his leave of the lawyer, and, since he found himself in that neighbourhood, he decided to call upon Victor Harleston’s employers in Chancery Lane. He ascertained that the offices of Slater & Knott were situated in Cobalt Buildings, and proceeded thither. He was received by Mr Knott, a keen, alert looking man of between thirty and forty, who seemed very much surprised to hear of the sudden death of his employee.

      ‘Why, I’ve never known Harleston have a day’s illness,’ he exclaimed. ‘I couldn’t understand it when he didn’t turn up this morning. I don’t think he’s missed a day for years. In fact, if I didn’t hear in the course of the day, I intended to go round and see him after office hours and find out what was the matter.’

      ‘Has Victor Harleston seemed in his usual health and spirits lately?’ Hanslet asked.

      Mr Knott smiled. ‘Health, yes,’ he replied. ‘As for spirit, well, he never displayed any exuberance in that respect. He was always a quiet, rather morose sort of chap who seemed to avoid his fellow-men. I have an idea that he disliked friendship because of the expense attached to it. So far as I know he never drank, and smoked only the cheapest cigarettes he could buy. He was the last person in the world to spend a penny when a halfpenny would do as well.’

      ‘He carried out his duties efficiently?’ Hanslet asked.

      ‘Perfectly. Like a machine without any imagination. In our profession that’s not a bad thing in its way. I suppose you’ve got the idea of suicide in your mind. I can only tell you straight out that I know of no reason why Harleston should have committed suicide. No financial or business reasons, I mean. But fellows like that who have no resources beyond themselves often do these unaccountable things.’

      ‘Can you tell me if Harleston has any connection with a firm of Novoshave in Oxford Street?’

      Mr Knott looked at the superintendent, sharply. ‘May I ask what makes you ask that question?’

      ‘Only this. I found some of their headed notepaper in his desk at Matfield Street.’

      Mr Knott seemed relieved. ‘Oh, is that all!’ he exclaimed. ‘Naturally,

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