“Why he was in a temper? I don’t, sir!”
“Did you notice it?”
“Not specially, sir. It wasn’t anything new.”
“Know of any letter that might have upset him?”
“I don’t, sir. He was just as bad last night.”
“He was, eh? Any idea what upset him, Stimson?”
“I haven’t, sir, unless it might be the old man who called yesterday evening. That seemed to annoy him.”
“You’re not very communicative,” Landis smiled. “Who was the old man and what did he want?”
“He wouldn’t tell me his name, sir. He was a ragged, surly old customer and said Mr. Harrison would see him, name or no name. He seemed harmless, though.”
“Go on,” said Landis patiently, “tell us all about him, man! Mr. Harrison’s been murdered, you know!”