“You never know with Kenneth,” replied Giles. “Quite probably not.” He cast the Superintendent an appraising look. “By the way, what does the sight of you portend, Hannasyde? Business or pleasure?”
“Both,” returned Hannasyde. “It was a great pleasure to me to work with you, you know.”
“Very nicely put, but it won't wash. I know nothing about the late Gregory Matthews.”
The Superintendent's eyes twinkled. “Now, now, Mr Carrington! None of that Holmes-stuff! Of course it's the Matthews case.”
“Was he poisoned?” asked Giles.
“Yes, he was. Nicotine. I shall want to go through his papers.”
“All right. Tomorrow suit you?”
Hannasyde nodded. “We shan't find anything. We're five days behind this murder. And they have to put me on it! Tell me what you know about Matthews, Mr Carrington.”
“Nothing much. He's been a client of ours for about five years. Digby Bryant used to handle his affairs, and Matthews came to us when he died. I gather he didn't hit it off with young Bryant. He hasn't troubled us much. A few routine jobs. I wasn't in his confidence.”
“Know how he made his money?”