"No, not much. Nothing much to know. Good family, public-school man, and all that sort of thing. Always been fairly well off, I gather, on account of old Fountain making him his heir. Naturally I've gleaned a bit from Joan, in the way of conversation. As far as I can make out Brother Basil's led a comfortable sort of life, no worries, or debts, or riotous living. Ordinary bonhomous sort of chap. Simple Pleasures and Athletic Ideal, you know. Shoots, hunts a bit, quite a stylish bat, I believe. He's keen on all outdoor sports. Devilish healthy. Had me out before breakfast to bathe when I stayed with him down at Littlehaven. He's got a bungalow there - rather decent, except for the damned boat."
"What damned boat?"
"Motorboat. According to Basil you can cross the Channel in it without being seasick. Well, I didn't cross the Channel, so perhaps that accounted for it."
Amberley laughed. "Not a good sailor, in fact."
"The world's worst," said Corkran. "Anyone can have the super motorboat as far as I'm concerned. Joan, too. She bars it completely, which feeds Brother Basil stiff. He and she don't hit it off particularly well, you know. "Though according to her things were fairly all right till the old man died. She swears it's something to do with the manor. Of course, the truth is she doesn't like the place, so she's got it into her head there's something wrong with it. Then, on top of that, there's Collins."
"Yes, I'm rather interested in Collins," said Amberley. "Were he and Dawson the only survivors from the old regime?"
"Oh Lord, no! Practically the whole staff's the same. There's a housekeeper who's been there since the year dot, and the cook, and a couple of gardeners, and a whole bevy of skivvies — I don't know about them, by the way. They may have changed since old Fountain kicked the bucket. But the hardy perennials all stayed put. You see, Brother Basil was no stranger to 'em. Old jasper seems to have been very fond of him; always having him down to stay. So they all knew him and seem to have liked him. I tell you, there's no data at all."
"I begin to think there's something in what the sergeant said," remarked Amberley. "Queer case. Nice little holiday problem."
"Well, if you want a Watson, don't forget me, will you?" said Corkran. "And talking of Watson, do you remember Freddy Holmes? Chap with freckles in the Army Class?"
"In Merrill's House? Yes, what about him?"