“Mr. Brent!” exclaimed Graham.
“Yes, Graham, I’m here! Dreadful! Who are these gentlemen?” With the sudden question Brent drew himself erect and pursed his lips. Both Landis and Bernard noticed that there was more than a hint of force of character about the heavy nose and full chin of the newcomer.
Introductions followed and the detectives learned that Fullerton Brent was the acting senior partner of Cathcart, Brent & Graham, Cathcart having retired. The firm, Brent told them, had handled Harrison’s legal affairs for nearly thirty years, ever since he became a power in the financial world.
“Dreadful,” he repeated at last. “And now, gentlemen, who did it?”
Bernard merely grunted. Landis smiled. “We haven’t been here long and we don’t know yet,” he answered pleasantly. “How did you happen to hear about it, Mr. Brent?”
“Graham telephoned my house. I was out for a stroll at the time but he left word of what had happened and that he was sending to the city for an experienced detective. I live not far from here, down in the town. As soon as I returned and received his message, I came here, post haste.” He turned to eye Graham. “You followed the wise course, young man. No hitch with the local authorities, I take it?”
“No, sir. The coroner agreed that it would be a good plan and arranged the details.”
“By the way, Mr. Brent!” Bernard’s voice had a booming note in it, “now you’re here, do you happen to know whether Harrison changed his will lately?”
The question was totally unexpected and Brent’s expression clearly indicated that he took exception to it. “So far as I know, Mr. Harrison has not changed his will lately!” he snapped. “Why do you ask, Mr.—er—the name, I fear, escapes me.”
“Bernard,” supplied Landis gently. “Mr. Paul Bernard, of whom you may have heard, Mr. Brent!”