He had been dining with an American, a man whom he had known many years before in New York, when he himself was in service there. Fountain rather thought that he had been a footman in some millionaire'ss house, but he was not sure; it was a long time ago. All he did know was that Jasper Fountain had picked him up in America and had brought him back to England as his butler. In any case the American with whom he had been dining that night had, according to Dawson's tale, made his pile and come to England on a visit. He had found his old friend's address and invited him to meet him in town one evening. The impression Fountain had had when Dawson told him this was that the man had wanted to dazzle the butler by a display of opulence. Anyway he had not thought any more about it until, as he said, he had tried to run over in his mind all that he knew of Dawson. And in doing that naturally the first thing that attracted one's attention was Dawson's mysterious nest-egg. No one had yet succeeded in tracing this to its source. A suggestion made by himself that Dawson had bet a bit on the turf was quashed by the housekeeper, who asserted that the butler had disapproved of all forms of gambling.
Then it was that he had remembered that night at the Magnificent. He had not doubted Dawson's explanation at the time, but in the light of the facts that had been disclosed it had occurred to him to wonder whether the original story had been true. Could it be, in fact, that the American was not an old friend, but someone over whom Dawson possessed a hold?
"Blackmail? I suppose it might easily be so. Had you any idea that Dawson was that type of man?"
"No, none. But how did he come by that money? Rotten to throw mud at a dead man, but the more I think of it the more it seems to fit in. Two years ago, you see; just about the time when Dawson opened his account at Carchester. What do you think?"
"Undoubtedly interesting," said Amberley. "Can you give me the date?"
"I'm awfully sorry, but I can't," Fountain said ruefully. "I know it was when I first came here, so it must have been sometime in the autumn, I suppose. Anyway I thought I'd better mention it."
"Quite right. It will have to be gone into. Inspector Fraser endeavouring to trace an unknown American - or possibly not an American at all - who dined at a public restaurant two years ago on a date you have forgotten, ought to be an engaging spectacle."
Fountain laughed. "Put like that it does sound fairly hopeless. Hullo - who on earth can that be?"
Somewhere in the distance a bell was clanging. Whoever had pulled it evidently meant to be sure of making himself heard. Through the stillness of the house the bell went on ringing for several moments, with that hollow sound of iron striking iron.
"Front door," said Fountain. "All the others are electric bells. I only hope to God it's not that damned inspector. He keeps on coming here with fatuous questions to ask the staff. They don't like it, I can assure you."