“He left you nothing, did he?” the Chief Constable asked casually, as he continued his study of the document.
Stenness was plainly surprised by the question.
“No. Why should he? I’ve only been with him a year or two. I’m not an old family retainer who’s earned a pension. As a matter of fact, there are no bequests of the kind.”
“So I see,” Sir Clinton agreed when he had finished his reading. “It’s a very short will, not complicated by any of the provisions they often put into these things.”
He seemed to ponder over the matter for a moment or two.
“I had rather expected to find a residuary legatee in the thing somewhere; but you’re quite right, there’s nothing of the sort mentioned. You don’t happen to know anything about Neville Shandon’s will, do you? It wouldn’t fall into your province.”
Stenness shook his head.
“I never read it. But I witnessed it, as it happens. And the impression I got from a glance at the last page was that it may have run on the same lines as Roger’s. You can easily get a copy of it once it’s filed, if you need it.”
Sir Clinton handed back the will and rose to his feet as the secretary restored the document to the safe.
“I see you have a key of that thing?”