“One moment,” said Nick, looking up. “What have you since learned, Mrs. Darling, that occasions your misgivings? Why do you now suspect foul play? That, I think, is the term you used.”
“I have two reasons for apprehending something of the kind,” she replied. “One relates to my husband’s estate. I have learned from his lawyer, who has been assisting me, and in whom I have absolute confidence, that Mr. Darling left no will, that he has recently withdrawn considerable money from the bank, and that his safety-deposit drawer contains only a few securities, worth less than three thousand dollars. From dividends which I know that he has been in the habit of receiving, as well as from our living expenses for several years, I know that he was worth at least a hundred thousand dollars.”
“Is your lawyer investigating the matter?”
“I have requested him to do so.”
“What is his name?” Nick inquired, taking out his notebook.
“Henry Clayton. He has an office in town.”
“I am acquainted with him, also,” said Nick, noting the name. “You mentioned a second reason for your misgivings. What is that?”
“One of my servants.”
“You mean?”
“I referred in my letter, Mr. Carter, to a very devoted friend of yours, who advised me to appeal to you.”