“That was the next thing, Mr. Arbuthnot, I wished to ask you—about the financial position of the various members of the family.”
“Obviously, I can give you only very approximate figures. When the death duties are paid I fancy Sir William’s capital will be worth about £500,000 to his legatees. He has been up to the present allowing Austin £1,000 a year, and Miss Ponson and Cosgrove £500 each. His will preserves the same proportion between them—Austin gets £150,000, and Miss Ponson and Cosgrove £75,000 each, the remainder, about £200,000, going to Lady Ponson.”
“Suppose any of these four should die intestate?”
“If that question should arise the deceased’s share is to be divided between the survivors in the same proportions as was Sir William’s money. It is a little complicated, but it would mean for example that if Austin were to die without leaving a will, Lady Ponson would get about £90,000 and Cosgrove and Enid £30,000 each of Austin’s £150,000.”
“Has Austin any means other than this £1,000 a year?”
“Not very much, I fancy. He has written a good deal on social and scientific subjects, which must bring him in something, and he had a legacy of £5,000 from his Uncle John. But I don’t suppose he has more than twelve or thirteen hundred a year.”
“And Cosgrove? You do not know exactly how he is fixed financially?”
“No, except that from his point of view he is in low water.”
“Do you happen to know anything about a Miss Lois Drew of Halford?”
“Yes,” the lawyer returned with a grimace, “I do. The last day Sir William was in here he was telling me about her. It appeared Austin had been smitten by the young lady, and some rumours of it had reached Sir William. He was extremely annoyed at the idea, because, though he admitted that so far as he knew Miss Drew was personally all that could be desired, her social standing was not good. Of course, you and I may think that rather Victorian, but the old man had achieved so many of his ambitions, he could not bear to see his last—that of social position—thwarted. Indeed, he spoke of altering his will if the matter came to a head.”
“You didn’t know then that they are engaged?”
The lawyer seemed considerably surprised.
“You don’t say so? No, I did not know. It was a rumour only Sir William spoke of.”
“Austin told me they fixed it up on week, but it is to be kept private still.”
There seemed no question, then, about the cause of the quarrel. Indeed, the more Tanner heard, the more essential the most searching test of Austin’s alibi became.
“There is just one other point, Mr. Arbuthnot,” the Inspector went on, and he told the lawyer about the cheques, marked X. Upon these, however, the latter could throw no light.
“And you know of no one who had a quarrel with Sir William, or who for any reason might desire his death?”
“No one. Quite the opposite. Sir William was universally liked and respected.”
Tanner was silent for a moment, considering if he had obtained all the information he was likely to get from the solicitor. Deciding he had, he rose.
“Well, Mr. Arbuthnot, let me express my gratitude for the way you have met me. I am sorry for having been such a nuisance.”
“All in the day’s work, Mr. Tanner,” the solicitor returned as he shook hands and bowed his visitor out.
Tanner left Lincoln’s Inn, and after making a call at the Yard, took the next train back to Halford.
V
Inspector Tanner Becomes Convinced
After dinner that same evening Inspector Tanner, having lit his pipe, and selected the most comfortable armchair he could find, set himself to take stock of his position, and see just where he stood with his new case.
He realised that the lawyer’s communication contained food for thought. Certainly a lot of the information he had gained seemed to point in a rather unmistakable way to Austin. That the latter had murdered his father he felt it hard to believe, and yet he had known men to be convicted on slighter evidence than that he already held. Absentmindedly pressing down the tobacco in his pipe, he closed his eyes, and tried to view the facts he had learnt in a proper perspective.
Here was a son who had never been able to get on with his father, so much so that they could not live in the same house. To the father he had been a continual disappointment, and no doubt that irritation would show in the father’s manner, and could not but increase the bad blood between them. It was true they had agreed to differ, and Sir William had allowed Austin £1,000 a year, but agreeing to differ did not necessarily prevent very unpleasant feelings on both sides, and as for the money, though it seemed handsome at first sight, it was very small compared to what Sir William might have paid without missing it.
From what Tanner had seen of Austin and his villa, he thought the latter must be living at the rate of well on to a thousand a year. That was to say, nearly at the rate of his income. Under these circumstances he falls in love and decides to marry. The lady would have but a small dot, if any. The two of them must therefore live on what had before been enough for Austin only. What does Austin do? He sees his father , probably to tell him the news, and possibly to ask for an increased allowance. As in the ordinary course of nature a large portion of Sir William’s money would soon become his in any case, this would not be an unreasonable demand. But what does Sir William answer? Tanner could only surmise, but from what the dead man had said to Mr. Arbuthnot it was
