"Arthur Fane needed that money. So he—"
"He helped in the disposal of the body?" interposed Ann.
"That's right, my wench. The little scene you witnessed, of Arthur comin' to the door in his shirtsleeves, didn't suggest an assignation. It suggested work: spade-work.
"What they did with the body we don't know and we're not likely to. The only thing we can be sure of is that it's not buried near Leckhampton Hill, where
Hubert later said it was. But you can't wonder that Arthur Fane talked about murder in his sleep." H.M. looked at Vicky.
"From then on dates Hubert's changed place in the household — which you, ma'am, misinterpreted. Y'see, we tend to forget that there are certain advantages about the position of a person who's bein' blackmailed. He can demand a better room in the house, and the sort of food he wants at table. He can say, 'Burn it all, if I'm being bled to the tune of a couple of thousand pounds, I'm going to get something out of it.' Also, he can make the blackmailer pretty uncomfortable too.
"He can keep remindin' the blackmailer, by sly little digs (as Hubert did), that they're in the same boat together. If Hubert Fane was a murderer, he could make ruddy sure Arthur kept in mind how a respectable solicitor helped dispose of the body and raked in the cash for doin' it. Think back over everything you ever heard Hubert say, and see if it doesn't sound different now.
"But Hubert had already decided that the blackmailer was goin' to die."
A stir went through the group.
"Ah!" murmured Rich. "Now we come to it."