“Any possibility of anyone getting access to your safe?” pursued Shelley.

“Lord, no!” answered Samuel, horrified. “The stuff a lawyer keeps is pretty explosive, you know, Inspector. Doesn’t do to take any risks, or let anyone know anything about it. Professional secrets and all that sort of thing, you see.”

“I see,” said Shelley, looking at the mass of papers with keen interest. “Now, what has he got there, that he leaves in your charge?”

“Oh,” said the solicitor, with a shrug of his shoulders, “all the usual stuff, you know—deeds of houses, share certificates, copies of agreements made with publishers, and so on.”

“Is his will there?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Shelley was more than a trifle surprised at this. He had imagined that Arnell would certainly have left his will in charge of his lawyer.

“No.” Samuel grinned. “Old Arnell was not a very trusting man in some respects. He didn’t trust lawyers farther than he could see them, anyhow. We didn’t make his will. I don’t even know if he made one.”

“Queer,” said Shelley.

“Not so queer as you might think. After all—although this is an entirely unprofessional thing to say—making a will is a perfectly easy, straightforward business if you aren’t aiming at any silly, complicated way of leaving your money. A lawyer is really necessary only if you want to tie your cash up in some complex fashion. And I imagine that Arnell would leave it all to his daughter. She’s his only relative, as far as I’m aware. And he could easily make that will himself.”

“I see,” said Shelley. “Well, just glance through that collection of documents, will you? After all, the will might be there. You never know, do you?”

“Okay,” said the lawyer, and turned out the contents of the box on to his desk.

One by one he went through the documents that it contained, examining each with some care, and then placing them in a neat pile by his side. At the end of this performance, when all the documents had been dealt with in turn, he leaned back in his chair with a sigh, and shook his head mournfully.

“No go, I’m afraid,” he said.

“Not there, eh?” Shelley was gravely disappointed, for he had counted on finding the will here.

“No. To tell the truth, I didn’t expect to find it, Inspector. As I told you, Arnell was a queer old bird in many ways, and I thought it very unlikely that he would leave the will in my care.”

“Where do you think we should be likely to find it?” asked Shelley.

“Couldn’t say,” replied Samuel non-committally. Then his face lit up, as if a new idea had suddenly occurred to him. “D’you know,” he said, “the old fellow had a safe deposit? Maybe his will would be there.”