“I’m Landis, as I believe I mentioned already,” he said. “This is Mr. Bernard—Mr. Paul Bernard—of whom you may have heard, Stimson!”
The man stepped back a pace and bent slightly.
“I have, of course, sir. You’ll pardon me. Your manner was a trifle abrupt and I did not know.”
A most astonishing butler, thought Landis.
If Bernard had any retort to make, it was checked by the sudden opening of the door on their right and the appearance of a youngish man in evening clothes. He closed the door behind him and came forward unsmiling.
“Mr. Landis?” he inquired.
Landis bowed. The young man directed a glance of dismissal at the butler who turned without haste and moved away toward the dining-room.
“This is Mr. ——?” inquired Landis politely.
“My name’s Graham. I’m junior member of the law firm employed by Mr. Harrison. My wife and I have been guests here for a week and I was here tonight when Mr. Harrison was murdered. So I took charge until the police came.” He glanced quickly at Bernard.