‘No objection at all,’ said Hemingway. ‘In fact, I’d like him to be present.’

Eleven

Stephen, fetched from the billiard-room, came with an ill-grace, disclaiming the slightest interest in the contents of his uncle’s desk. Mottisfont, who had followed him, surprised everyone by declaring that as Nathaniel’s partner he considered he had a right to be present. Joseph seemed to feel that this was mere officiousness, and said that he hardly thought Nat’s private papers could be of interest to his business partner. However, the Inspector, whose obliging demeanour was making Valerie open her eyes wider and wider, said that he had no objection to Mottisfont’s presence either.

‘It seems to me that it is my presence which is entirely superfluous,’ said Stephen. ‘If you expect me to be able to throw any light on obscurities I can tell you now that I shan’t be able to.’

‘No, no, Stephen; of course you must be present!’ Joseph said, taking his arm.

Valerie said, as soon as they were out of earshot: ‘Well! I never expected a Scotland Yard person to be so decent!’

‘Too decent by half,’ said Paula scornfully.

‘Yes,’ agreed Roydon. ‘You want to be very much on your guard with those smooth-spoken chaps. They’re simply trying to trap you.’

Mrs Dean laughed in a very robust way, and said that there were no traps for her girlie to fall into, she thanked God. This had the effect of making everyone recall duties that would remove them to widely distant parts of the house, and the party disintegrated.

Meanwhile, Nathaniel’s study, which was situated in the west wing, and approached by a wide corridor, had been unlocked, and entered. Stephen switched on the electric stove, and began to fill his pipe. Joseph permitted himself a slight shudder at the sight of Nathaniel’s sanctum, and pulled himself together with an obvious effort. He turned to Blyth, and said: ‘I think you know why my nephew sent for you. There is one very important matter –’

‘I had better tell you at once that no will was ever drawn up by my firm for your brother, Mr Herriard,’ interrupted the solicitor.

‘So that’s that,’ said Stephen.

‘In the absence of any will –’

‘But there is a will!’ Joseph said.

Everyone looked at him, Hemingway not less intently than the rest.

‘How do you know?’ demanded Mottisfont. ‘I only know that Nat had a stupid dislike of making a will!’

‘Yes, yes, but he did make one. I helped him to draw it up.’ Joseph looked towards the Inspector, adding: ‘I ought to mention, perhaps, that when I was a young man my father mapped out a legal career for me. I’m afraid I was always a feckless creature, however, and –’

‘You can spare us the story of your life,’ said Stephen. ‘Most of us know it already. When did you help Uncle Nat to draw up a will?’

‘When he had pleurisy so badly in the spring,’ replied Joseph. ‘It was on his mind, and, indeed, it had for long been on mine. You mustn’t think that I coerced him in any way. I only put it to him that the thing ought to be done, and saw to it that it was all legal, as far as my little knowledge went. I quite thought he’d have deposited it with you, Blyth.’