“Matters have gone very well,” rejoined Anthony. “There is still one little point upon which I am not yet quite clear, but I hope to clear that up before many hours have passed. I also wish to amend with all apologies a statement that I made—rather carelessly perhaps—to you!” He swung one leg over the other and clasped the knee with his two hands. “I told you, Daventry, that I would introduce the police to the murderer of Mason the night-watchman—and you yourself to the murderer of Laurence P. Stewart! I was wrong!” He paused, and Peter looked up! What had gone wrong to cause Anthony Bathurst to retract a statement like that? Disillusionment on that score came quickly. “I was wrong,” repeated Anthony, “inasmuch as I shall have the pleasure, my dear Daventry, of introducing you to both murderers.”
“I’m sure I shall be charmed,” murmured Peter, responsively. “But before that happens I should like to be enlightened a bit. What do you make of that wretched will?”
“You shall see, Daventry,” responded Anthony, ignoring the last question, “my final plans are not quite complete—they will be to-night—when they are—you shall know more. I shall have to take Goodall into my confidence, too—I’ve promised him as much.” His words coincided with the sound of the latter’s voice outside the door. Anthony went to the door and beckoned to him. The Inspector came, scratching his head thoughtfully.
“That will—Mr. Bathurst! You must have noticed how young Stewart kept away from it all the time during lunch—yet I’ll swear it was the only thing that he was really thinking about. I can’t help feeling that that will contains the key to the whole business!” He made the statement emphatically, and watched Anthony’s face carefully to see the effect of his words.
But Mr. Bathurst’s face remained impassive. “What do you think, yourself?” persisted Goodall—definitely putting the opinion to the test.
“I think it certainly had something to do with the second murder,” conceded Anthony. “But possibly not altogether in the way you think.” He turned the subject. “What about that Personal message in the ‘Telegraph,’ Goodall? You never told me what you made of it.”
The Inspector fished out a newspaper cutting. “I certainly must congratulate you again over that, Mr. Bathurst,” he declared. “The telephone number mentioned is assuredly that of Blanchard’s Hotel—though I don’t altogether see how you got on to it—the ‘M. S.’ could also be linked up with the affair to read ‘Mary Stuart,’ but even there——”
Anthony cut in. “I was actually looking for something of the sort,” he confessed. “I had thought previously that the ‘Agony Column’ might very probably prove to be one of their most likely means of communication! The combination of ‘M. S.’ and ‘Both-well’ was too strong a coincidence to be passed over without investigation.” He paused to see how the Inspector would take this last remark.
Goodall’s eyes opened! “Well, I’m blessed,” he exclaimed. “I see now what you mean—I’m afraid I missed the second point—that was real smart now.”
Peter held out his hand for the paragraph, which he read with interest. Interest which was all the more intense on account of the explanation that had preceded it. Anthony’s next words brought both him and the Inspector to a keener alertness. “Make sure your revolver’s in working order, Daventry, and you, Inspector, keep those handcuffs close to you. I sha’n’t ask you to wait very much longer now. I want to have a chat with Stewart this evening before the funeral to-morrow morning—then all we shall have to do will be to await events. Somehow I don’t think we shall be kept in suspense very long. Our birds are a bit impatient now I fancy.” The door opened suddenly to admit Morgan Llewellyn.