“I don’t know,” she replied. “I think the first step is to get out of this hotel, which is much too expensive for me. I have a few pounds in the bank, but that won’t last very long.”
At his earnest entreaty she agreed to see a solicitor and appoint him to save whatever was possible from the wreckage of Sir John’s estate. Two hours passed like as many minutes, until Timothy remembered that he had an appointment with a London reporter—one Brennan. Brennan he had known in his cinema days, and Timothy literally fell upon his neck.
“I’ve nothing to tell the boys that hasn’t already been told,” he said, putting down the newspaper which Brennan handed to him. “I am as anxious for news as you are. Have there been any developments?”
“None,” said the reporter, “except that Sir John had no money at the bank and no money could be found in the house.”
Timothy nodded.
“That I know,” he said, “all his securities were drawn out two days ago. That was the stuff that Cartwright was after.”
“Does Miss Maxell know——” Brennan began.
“She does know and she took it like a brick.”
“It was about twenty thousand pounds,” Brennan went on. “The only other clue the police have is that the safe was opened by Maxell’s duplicate key. The old man had two sets made, one of which he used to keep in his combination safe in his bedroom and the other he carried around with him. Miss Maxell told a story that the night before the murder Lady Maxell asked her to secure possession of the keys in order to open a bureau.”
Timothy nodded.