She found a council in progress. There was the Hon. Freddy Arbuthnot, looking amiable, Chief Inspector Parker, looking worried, Lord Peter, looking somnolent, and Bunter, who having introduced her, retired to a position on the fringe of the assembly and hovered there looking correct.
“Have you brought us news, Miss Murchison? If so, you have come at the exact right moment to find the eagles gathered together. Mr. Arbuthnot, Chief Inspector Parker, Miss Murchison. Now let’s all sit down and be happy together. Have you had tea? or will you absorb a spot of something?”
Miss Murchison declined refreshment.
“H’m!” said Wimsey. “The patient refuses food. Her eyes glitter wildly. The expression is anxious. The lips are parted. The fingers fumble with clasp of the bag. The symptoms point to an acute attack of communicativeness. Tell us the worst, Miss Murchison.”
Miss Murchison needed no urging. She told her adventures, and had the pleasure of holding her audience enthralled from the first word to the last. When she finally produced the screw of paper containing the white powder, the sentiments of the company expressed themselves in a round of applause, in which Bunter joined discreetly.
“Are you convinced, Charles?” asked Wimsey.
“I admit that I am heavily shaken,” said Parker. “Of course, the powder must be analysed—”
“It shall, embodied caution,” said Wimsey. “Bunter, make ready the rack and thumbscrew. Bunter has been taking lessons in Marsh’s test, and performs it to admiration. You know all about it too, Charles, don’t you?”
“Enough for a rough test.”
“Carry on then, my children. In the meanwhile, let us sum up our feelings.”
Bunter went out and Parker, who had been making entries in a notebook, cleared his throat.
“Well,” he said, “the matter stands, I take it, like this. You say that Miss Vane is innocent, and you undertake to prove this by bringing a convincing accusation against Norman Urquhart. So far, your evidence against him is almost entirely concerned with motive, bolstered up by proofs of intent to mislead enquiry. You say that your investigations have brought the case against Urquhart to a point at which the police can, and ought to, take it up, and I am inclined to agree with you. I warn you, however, that you still have to establish evidence as to means and opportunity.”
“I know that. Tell us a new one.”
“All right, as long as you know it. Very well. Now Philip Boyes and Norman Urquhart are the only surviving relations of Mrs. Wrayburn, or Cremorna Garden, who is rich, and has money to leave. A number of years ago, Mrs. Wrayburn put all her affairs into the hands of Urquhart’s father, the only member of the family with whom she remained on friendly terms. On his father’s death, Norman Urquhart took over those affairs himself, and in 1920, Mrs. Wrayburn executed a Deed of Trust, giving him sole authority to handle her property. She also made a will, dividing her property unequally between her two great nephews. Philip Boyes got all the real estate and £50,000, while Norman Urquhart took whatever was left and was also sole executor. Norman Urquhart when questioned about this Will, deliberately told you an untruth, saying that the bulk of the money was left to him, and even went so far as to produce a document purporting to be a draft of such a will. The pretended date of this draft is subsequent to that of the Will discovered by Miss Climpson, but there is no doubt that the draft itself was drawn out by Urquhart, certainly within the last three years and probably within the last few days. Moreover, the fact that the actual Will, though lying in a place accessible to Urquhart, was not destroyed by him, suggests that it was not, in fact, superseded by any subsequent testamentary disposition. By the way, Wimsey, why didn’t he simply take the will and destroy it? As the sole surviving heir, he would then inherit without dispute.”
“Perhaps it didn’t occur to him. Or there might even be other relatives surviving. How about that uncle in Australia?”
“True. At any rate he didn’t destroy it. In 1925 Mrs. Wrayburn became completely paralysed and imbecile, so that there was no possibility of her ever enquiring into the disposition of her estate or making another will.
“About this time, as we know from Mr. Arbuthnot, Urquhart took the dangerous step of plunging into speculation. He made mistakes, lost money, plunged more deeply to recover himself, and was involved to a large extent in the great crash of Megatherium Trust, Ltd. He certainly lost far more than he could possibly afford, and we now find, from Miss Murchison’s discoveries—of which I must say that I should hate to have to take official notice—that he had been consistently abusing his position as Trustee and employing Mrs. Wrayburn’s money for his private speculations. He deposited her holdings as security for large loans, and embarked the money thus raised in the Megatherium and other wildcat schemes.
“As long as Mrs. Wrayburn lived, he was fairly safe, for he only had to pay to her the sums necessary to keep up her house and establishment. In fact, all the household bills and so on were settled by him as her man of affairs under Power of Attorney, all salaries were paid by him, and so long as he did this, it was nobody’s business to ask what he had done with the capital. But as soon as Mrs. Wrayburn died, he would have to account to the other heir, Philip Boyes, for the capital which he had misappropriated.
“Now in 1929, just about the time that Philip Boyes quarrelled with Miss Vane, Mrs. Wrayburn had a serious attack of illness and very nearly died. The danger passed, but might recur at any moment. Almost immediately afterwards we find him becoming friendly with Philip Boyes and inviting him to stay at his house. While living with Urquhart,
