“Samuel Horsingforth,” he read, “Sta. Irica, Portugal.” Then he looked up at his subordinate. “You have done very well, Masterman. This is really all that is essential.”
Masterman, well-pleased, saluted again.
“I thought it would be, sir. And it was really all we had time for. Miss Hoyle is not an easy nut to crack.”
Chapter XIX
John Steadman was hard at work in Luke Bechcombe's study. He was finding his co-executor, the Rev. James Collyer, of very little use. It was rumoured that the rector had had a nervous breakdown; at any rate it appeared impossible to get him up to town and documents requiring his signature had to be sent to Wexbridge Rectory by special messenger.
Steadman was cogitating over this fact in some annoyance and deliberating the advisability of applying for the appointment of another executor, when he heard the sound of a taxi stopping before the door, and looking up he saw Inspector Furnival getting out. He went into the hall to meet him.
The inspector was looking grave and perturbed.
“Have you heard?” he questioned breathlessly.
“Nothing!” Steadman answered laconically.
“Mrs. Carnthwacke was murderously assaulted this morning in her own carriage in one of London's best-known thoroughfares!”