The flat was not extensive, consisting merely of two bedrooms, a dining-room, a sitting-room, and what were known as "the usual offices'. It was furnished in an expensive but undistinguished style, its amenities including mirrored panels in the bedroom, and the tiny hall; a plate-glass dining-table; numerous deep chairs covered in oxhide, and lavishly provided with velvet cushions; a glass-fronted bookcase, containing sets of standard authors in tooled calf bindings, which bore all the appearance of having been bought to form part of the room's decoration; an opulent radio-cabinet; several pictures in slightly exotic taste; and such repellent adjuncts as a standard lamp, upheld by a naked bronze female, an alabaster ashtray, surmounted by a silver aeroplane, and a cocktail-cabinet, furnished with an interior light, a bewildering array of bottles, and a complete set of glasses, all of which were embellished with erotic designs.
"In fact," said Hemingway, "the sort of decor that puts very funny ideas into one's head."
A cursory inspection of the flat yielded no clue to Seaton-Carew's profession. It was strangely impersonal, nor did a rapid survey of his pass-sheets, discovered in a drawer of the desk, provide Hemingway with an explanation of his obvious wealth. His investments seemed to be few and orthodox, but on the credit side were numerous sums briefly described as Cash.
"Up to no good," said the cynical Hemingway. "Or perhaps he was only bilking the Inland Revenue," he added charitably. "This place tells us nothing at all, Sandy."
The Inspector, who had gazed with an affronted eye upon the pictures adorning the walls of Mr. Seaton-Carew's bedroom, and who had been noticeably affected by the sybaritic aspect of his bathroom, replied austerely that it told him a great deal.
"That's only prejudice," said Hemingway. "The trouble with you is that you're not broadminded. Ever noticed that all pansies have exactly the same kind of manservant? Funny thing: you can spot 'em at a glance! We'll go and have a nice heart to heart with this specimen!"
But it was soon made manifest that Mr. Francis Caister had not been admitted into his master's confidence. Smoothing his thick, curly locks with one unquiet hand, he said that he had been in Seaton-Carew's employment for eighteen months, and that it had been a very pleasant situation, Mr. Seaton-Carew being a gentleman as was often out to meals. He did not think that his master had been in business. If he might, he would describe him as a gentleman of leisure. Questioned, he was a little vague on the subject of Seaton-Carew's visitors: he had had so many. He recalled Mr. Butterwick, however, and said, with a genteel cough, that that was a young gentleman as took things to heart, as one might say. Quite hysterical sometimes, he had been, particularly if he found another young gentleman, or, as it might be, a lady visiting Mr. Seaton-Carew.
"Did Mr. Seaton-Carew entertain many ladies?" asked Hemingway.
"Well," replied Caister coyly, "not what one would properly term ladies. But," he added, with a touch of vicarious pride, "he used to visit in very nice houses."
"Had he any relatives?"