“Whew!” he whistled, as he read one of these documents. He then looked furtively at George Fiske, who was occupied with some clerical work which had to be done at once. Without a word Inspector Garson handed the letter to Bert Bayliss, signifying by a gesture that he was to read it.
After a glance at signature and date, Bayliss read the whole letter:
Sunday Afternoon,
September 9th.
My Dear Mr. Hemmingway:
After our talk of yesterday morning, I feel that I must express more fully my appreciation of your declaration of confidence in me, and my gratitude therefor. I was to surprised when you asked me to act as executor of your will that I fear I was awkward and disappointing in my response. But, believe me, dear sir. I am deeply grateful for your trust in me and I want to assure you that I will perform all the duties of which you told me to the very best of my ability, though I hope and pray the day is far off when such need shall arise. I am not a fluent talker and so take this means of telling you that a chord of my nature was deeply touched when you asked me to assume such a grave responsibility. I am, of course, at your service for further discussion of these matters, but I felt I must formally assure you of my gratitude for your kindness and of my loyalty to your interests. As to the revelation you made to me, it was so sudden and such a surprise, I can not bear to think your suspicions are founded on the truth; but as you requested, I will observe all I can without seeming intrusive or curious. I have in safe keeping the papers you entrusted to my care, and I hope our present relations may continue for many happy years.
Faithfully yours,
George Fiske.
With his usual quick eye for details, Bayliss noted that the letter was dated two days before (that is, the day before the murder, which occurred Monday night); it was postmarked at the Clearbrook post-office Sunday-evening, and had therefore, been delivered to Mr. Hemmingway by the first post Monday morning. This was corroborated by the rubber-stamped line at the top of the first page, which read: “Received, September 10.”
The letter was among a lot labeled “To be answered,” and it seemed to Bayliss a very important document.
“I think,” he said aloud to the Inspector, “that we would be glad to have Mr. Fiske tell us the circumstances that led to the writing of this manly and straightforward letter.”
George Fiske looked up at the sound of his name. “Has that come to light?” he said, blushing a little at being thus suddenly brought into prominence. “I supposed it would, but somehow I didn’t want to refer to it until some one else discovered it.”
“Tell us all about it,” said Bayliss, in his pleasant, chummy way, and at once Fiske began.
“Last Saturday morning,” he said, “Mr. Hemmingway had a long talk with me. He expressed his satisfaction with my work as his secretary and kindly avowed his complete trust and confidence in my integrity. He then asked me if I would be willing to act as executor of his estate, when the time should come that such a service was necessary. He said it was his intention to bring the whole matter before his lawyer in a few days, but first he wished to be assured of my willingness to act as executor. He told me, too, that he would add a codicil to his will, leaving me a moderate sum of money. All of this was on Saturday morning, and when I left at noon, as I always do on Saturdays, he gave me a large bundle of securities, and also his will, asking me to keep them for him for a few days.”
“You have his will, then?” asked Inspector Garson quickly.