“We detectives know everything,” said Dean.
“Oh! then there’s no need for me to tell you anything more,” returned Trumps, alias Rodgers, with a grin.
“Well, I don’t know exactly everything,” returned Dean; “but I do know—at least I guess—that you were a footman in the service of Richard Weston, Esquire, of Weston Hall, in Kent; that the butler’s name was Sutherland, and that you and he were witnesses to Mr Weston’s will.”
“Just so. You’re right.”
“Now, are you aware,” said Mr Dean, “that Colonel Brentwood has lost, or is going to lose, his estate because a new will by Richard Weston has been found, leaving it to another man?”
“No, I did not know that, but that clears up to me the mystery of the will that I witnessed. You must know that when we were witnessing the will, Sutherland and me both noticed that it was eight pages of big paper, and that it seemed to have two beginnings—one bein’ in the middle. Master couldn’t see well, an’ was very weak at the time—so weak that when he came to the last page the pen fell out of his hand and only half of the last name was signed. Mr Lockhart said that would do, however, an’ we witnessed it. Master never completed the signature, for he took to his bed that very day, and no one ever saw him put pen to paper again. Sutherland often spoke to me about that, and wondered if a will with an imperfect signature would pass. Hows’ever, it was none of our business, so we forgot about it, and soon after Sutherland went to stay with a family in Pimlico as butler, where I think he is now. As for me—”
“Yes, I know,” said Dean significantly; “you need not recall that just now. Can you give me the name and address of the family in Pimlico?”
“Good; now then,” said Mr Dean after booking his information, “I’ll want to see you again, so don’t get yourself into scrapes, and keep your tongue quiet. Your missionary will help you, I have no doubt. Meanwhile, I will go and pay a visit to a certain Martha who lives on the other side of the river.”