“That is very true, Mrs. Darling.[Pg 5]”
“It had no effect upon him, however, and he let the business go,” she replied, sadly shaking her head. “During the following week he was at home part of each day, but he spent most of the afternoons and evenings in town. On Tuesday, one week ago yesterday, he appeared unusually nervous and depressed. I missed him soon after lunch, and supposed he had gone into town. I had an appointment with my dentist and was absent from two o’clock until nearly six. When I returned home—well, Mr. Carter, the end had come.”
“You mean?” questioned Nick gravely.
“My husband had committed suicide—or was the victim of foul play.”
“H’m, I see!” Nick drew up in his chair. “Were you in any uncertainty at that time, Mrs. Darling, as to the cause of his death?”
“No, not at that time, Mr. Carter,” she quickly informed him. “I know what you have in mind—that I should have called in the police immediately. I did not then, however, nor at any time until yesterday, have even a thought of anything but suicide. The circumstances suggested nothing else.”
“What were the circumstances, Mrs. Darling?” Nick inquired. “State them briefly.”
“There is very little to tell,” she rejoined. “My husband was last seen alive by one of my servants. She saw him going out of the back door of the house and around the stable, and she supposed he was going down to our boathouse, which was on the river bank and out of view from here, owing to the sharp slope of the land.”
“I see,” said Nick, glancing from the window.
“Soon after, Mr. Carter, the boathouse was seen to be on fire. It contained a motor boat and considerable gasoline, which caused it to burn very rapidly. It was completely destroyed. In the ruins were found the remains of my husband, little more than a charred skeleton, from which the flesh was almost entirely burned.”