"I thought you were riding him a bit hard, Chief."
"If it wasn't for the laws of this country I'd have ridden him harder," responded Hemingway. "I don't like his story."
"Seems a funny kind of a house altogether," pondered the Sergeant. "It struck me, remembering what he said to Inspector Colwall, that he's about the only person, barring Mr. Joseph Herriard, who's anxious to give Stephen Herriard a good character."
"Well, I'm glad something strikes you," said Hemingway testily. "What's been striking me from the start is that the only finger-prints found on the windows or on the bathroom key are Ford's."
"It's reasonable, though, that his finger-prints should be found, isn't it, sir?"
"When I come up against a queer case, I don't like reasonable evidence," said Hemingway.
"If he's only been here a matter of nine months, I don't see what he's got to gain by murdering his master."
"Who said he had murdered him? He might have had plenty to gain by lending young Stephen a hand," said Hemingway. "What I want to know is who inherits the old man's money. Let's go downstairs."
Joseph met them in the hall, and was able to explain that Nathaniel's solicitor was on the way to Lexham. He said that the study had been locked up by the local police, and Hemingway replied at once that he should not have the room opened until the solicitor was present.
He had not long to wait. At about half-past twelve, the car which had taken Maud and Mathilda to church drew up outside the door, and the two ladies came in, followed by a short, stout man who looked cold, and rather disgruntled. When introduced to Hemingway, he nodded, and said good morning, but his first thought was to get as near to the fire as possible, and to warm his chilled hands.