'Enquiries?' said Mr Cadwalladine, now definitely alarmed. 'What sort of enquiries?'
'I can't be too certain at the moment but I thought I had better let you and your client know that he is dead,' said Frensic.
'Dead?' croaked Mr Cadwalladine.
'Dead,' said Frensic.
'Good Lord. How very unfortunate.'
'Quite,' said Frensic. 'Though from Piper's point of view 'unfortunate' seems rather too mild a word, particularly as he appears to have been murdered.'
This time there was no mistaking Mr Cadwalladine's alarm. 'Murdered?' he gasped. 'You did say 'murdered'?'
'That's exactly what I said. Murdered.'
'Good God,' said Mr Cadwalladine. 'How very dreadful.'
Frensic said nothing and allowed Mr Cadwalladine to dwell on the dreadfulness of it all.
'I don't quite know what to say,' Mr Cadwalladine muttered finally.
Frensic pressed home his advantage. 'In that case if you will just give me the name and address of your client I will convey the news to him myself.'
Mr Cadwalladine made negative noises. 'There's no need for that. I shall let him know.'
'As you wish,' said Frensic. 'And while you're about it you had also better let him know that he will have to wait for his American advance.'
'Wait for his American advance? You're surely not suggesting...'
'I am not suggesting anything. I am merely drawing your attention to the fact that Mr Hutchmeyer was not privy to the substitution of Mr Piper for your anonymous client and, that being the case, if the police should unearth our little deception in the course of their enquiries...you take my point?'
Mr Cadwalladine did. 'You think Mr...er...Hutchmeyer might...er...demand restitution?'
'Or sue,' said Frensic bluntly, 'in which case it would be as well to be in a position to refund the entire sum at once.'
'Oh definitely,' said Mr Cadwalladine for whom the prospect of being sued evidently held very few attractions. 'I leave the matter entirely in your hands.'
Frensic ended the conversation with a sigh. Now that he had passed some of the responsibility on to Mr Cadwalladine and his damned client he felt a little better. He took a pinch of snuff and was savouring it when the phone rang. It was Sonia Futtle calling from New York. She sounded extremely distressed.
'Oh Frenzy I'm so sorry,' she said, 'it's all my fault. If it hadn't been for me this would never happened.'
'What do you mean your fault?' said Frensic. 'You don't mean you...'
'I should never have brought him over here. He was so happy...' she broke off and there was the sound of sobs.
Frensic gulped. 'For God's sake tell me what's happened,' he said.
'The police think it was murder,' said Sonia and sobbed again.
'I gathered that from your telegram. But I still don't know what happened. I mean how did he die?'
'Nobody knows,' said Sonia, 'that's what's so awful. They're dragging the bay and going through the ashes of the house and...'
'The ashes of the house?' said Frensic, trying desperately to square a burnt house with Piper's presumed death by drowning.
'You see Hutch and I went out in his yacht and a storm blew up and then the house caught fire and someone fired at the firemen and Hutch's cruiser tried to ram us and exploded and we were nearly killed and...'
It was a confused and disjointed account and Frensic, sitting with the phone pressed hard to
