'Well, let's make a start. Who gets your money if you were to die?'

Miss Blacklog said rather reluctantly:

'Patrick and Julia. I've left the furniture in this house and a small annuity to Bunny. Really, I've not much to leave. I had holdings in German and Italian securities which became worthless, and what with taxation, and the lower percentages that are now paid on invested capital, I can assure you I'm not worth murdering – I put most of my money into an annuity about a year ago.'

'Still, you have some income, Miss Blacklog, and your nephew and niece would come into it.'

'And so Patrick and Julia would plan to murder me? I simply don't believe it. They're not desperately hard up or anything like that.'

'Do you know that for a fact?'

'No. I suppose I only know it from what they've told me… But I really refuse to suspect them. Someday I might be worth murdering, but not now.'

'What do you mean by someday you might be worth murdering, Miss Blacklog?' Inspector Craddock pounced on the statement.

'Simply that one day – possibly quite soon – I may be a very rich woman.'

'That sounds interesting. Will you explain?'

'Certainly. You may not know it, but for more than twenty years I was secretary to and closely associated with Randall Goedler.'

Craddock was interested. Randall Goedler had been a big name in the world of finance. His daring speculations and the rather theatrical publicity with which he surrounded himself had made him a personality not quickly forgotten. He had died, if Craddock remembered rightly, in 1937 or 1938.

'He's rather before your time, I expect,' said Miss Blacklog. 'But you've probably heard of him.'

'Oh, yes. He was a millionaire, wasn't he?'

'Oh, several times over – though his finances fluctuated. He always risked most of what he made on some new coup.'

She spoke with a certain animation, her eyes brightened by memory.

'Anyway he died a very rich man. He had no children. He left his fortune in trust for his wife during her lifetime and after her death to me absolutely.'

A vague memory stirred in the Inspector's mind.

'Immense Fortune to come to Faithful Secretary' – something of that kind.

'For the last twelve years or so,' said Miss Blacklog with a slight twinkle, 'I've had an excellent motive for murdering Mrs. Goedler – but that doesn't help you, does it?'

'Did – excuse me for asking this – did Mrs. Goedler resent her husband's disposition of his fortune?' Miss Blacklog was now looking frankly amused.

'You needn't be so very discreet. What you really mean is, was I Randall Goedler's mistress? No, I wasn't. I don't think Randall ever gave me a sentimental thought, and I certainly didn't give him one. He was in love with Belle (his wife), and remained in love with her until he died. I think in all probability it was gratitude on his part that prompted his making his will. You see, Inspector, in the very early days, when Randall was still on an insecure footing, he came very near to disaster. It was a question of just a few thousands of actual cash. It was a big coup, and a very exciting one; daring, as all his schemes were; but he just hadn't got that little bit of cash to tide him over. I came to the rescue. I had a little money of my own. I believed in Randall. I sold every penny I had out and gave it to him. It did the trick. A week later he was an immensely wealthy man.

'After that, he treated me more or less as a junior partner. Oh! they were exciting days.' She sighed. 'I enjoyed it all thoroughly. Then my father died, and my only sister was left a hopeless invalid. I had to give it all up and go and look after her. Randall died a couple of years later. I had made quite a lot of money during our association and I didn't really expect him to leave me anything, but I was very touched, yes, and very proud to find that if Belle predeceased me (and she was one of those delicate creatures whom everyone always says won't live long) I was to inherit his entire fortune. I think really the poor man didn't know who to leave it to. Belle's a dear, and she was delighted about it. She's really a very sweet person. She lives up in Scotland. I haven't seen her for years – we just write at Christmas. You see, I went with my sister to a sanatorium in Switzerland just before the war. She died of consumption out there.'

She was silent for a moment or two, then said:

'I only came back to England just over a year ago.'

'You said you might – be a rich woman very soon… How soon?'

'I heard from the nurse attendant who looks after Belle Goedler that Belle is sinking rapidly. It may be – only a few weeks.'

She added sadly:

'The money won't mean much to me now. I've got quite enough for my rather simple needs. Once I should have enjoyed playing the markets again – but now… Oh, well, one grows old. Still, you do see, Inspector, don't you, that if Patrick and Julia wanted to kill me for a financial reason they'd be crazy not to wait for another few weeks.'

'Yes, Miss Blacklog, but what happens if you should predecease Mrs. Goedler. Who does the money go to then?'

'D'you know, I've never really thought. Pip and Emma, I suppose…'

Craddock stared and Miss Blacklog smiled.

'Does that sound rather crazy? I believe, if I predecease Belle, the money would go to the legal offspring – or whatever the term is – of Randall's only sister. Sonia Randall had quarrelled with his sister. She married a man whom he considered a crook and worse.'

'And was he a crook?'

'Oh, definitely, I should say. But I believe a very attractive person to women. He was a Greek or a Roumanian or something – what was his name now – Stamfordis, Dmitri Stamfordis.'

'Randall Goedler cut his sister out of his will when she married this man?'

'Oh, Sonia was a very wealthy woman in her own right. Randall had already settled packets of money on her, as far as possible in a way so that her husband couldn't touch it. But I believe that when the lawyers urged him to put in someone in case I predeceased Belle, he reluctantly put down Sonia's offspring, simply because he couldn't think of anyone else and he wasn't the sort of man to leave money to charities.'

'And there were children of the marriage?'

'Well, there are Pip and Emma.' She laughed. 'I know it sounds ridiculous. All I know is that Sonia wrote once to Belle after her marriage, telling her to tell Randall that she was extremely happy and that she had just had twins and was calling them Pip and Emma. As far as I know she never wrote again. But Belle, of course, may be able to tell you more.'

Miss Blacklog had been amused by her own recital.

The Inspector did not look amused.

'It comes to this,' he said. 'If you had been killed the other night, there are presumably at least two people in the world who would have come into a very large fortune. You are wrong, Miss Blacklog, when you say that there is no one who has a motive for desiring your death. There are two people, at least, who are vitally interested. How old would this brother and sister be?'

Miss Blacklog frowned.

'Let me see… 1922… no – it's difficult to remember… I suppose about twenty-five or twenty-six.'

Her face had sobered. 'But you surely don't think-'

'I think somebody shot at you with the intent to kill you. I think it possible that that same person or persons might try again. I would like you, if you will, to be very very careful, Miss Blacklog. One murder has been arranged and did not come off. I think it possible that another murder may be arranged very soon.'

II

Phillipa Haymes straightened her back and pushed back a tendril of hair from her damp forehead. She was

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