“A mummery?” exclaimed Landis. “You consider your brother’s funeral a mummery?”
After one pitying glance, Joel shook his head.
“You, too?” he whispered. “My dear young man, you don’t know my brother! It’s all tomfoolishness! The whole proceeding was nonsense! Mason is away somewhere! Why, don’t you realize that my brother is far too selfish, far too accustomed to having his own way, to allow anyone—anyone—to do away with him?” He leaned back in his chair with the satisfaction of a man who has solved a difficult problem.
“I see your point,” replied Landis. “Perhaps it was kinder to say nothing to the others. But you had some dinner?”
“Naturally! It was served to me after I had gone to bed. Our cook takes care of my modest wants.”
“That was before the gong rang? About seven, eh?”
“Possibly. It’s of no consequence.” Joel obviously was losing interest in the conversation.
“After your dinner was brought up, did you happen to hear any sort of commotion in the house, Mr. Harrison?”
Joel nodded.