“True, but he thinks he can get away with it,” remarked Nick. “They all do, you know—until they wake up. As for his anticipated reward, you may be sure it’s a very large one. Follansbee’s are always that, and in such a case as this, he must have named a huge price. Stone is in a position, of course, to pay a big sum, and his mental condition makes him an easy victim. That may be the whole explanation, but I have a feeling that it isn’t. Something tells me that Follansbee is after more than the fee he has named.”
“What are you driving at? How could he profit in any other way by my death?”
“That’s what I’d like to find out,” Nick told him; “and you ought to be able to help me, if any one can.”
“In what way?”
“Well, have you made a will?”
“Yes, I attended to that soon after we sold the Condor.”
“And who is the chief beneficiary named in it, may I ask?”
“Jim, of course. He’s practically the sole beneficiary, for no other living person has ever been half so close to me as he.”
“I shouldn’t wonder if that explained it,” the detective said thoughtfully.