“Good for you. I believe you. I’ll try the job for you. Now I want to ask you some questions, but it is possible that your reply to the first one will make others unnecessary. When did you last see Mr. McNair’s red leather box?”
“His what?” She frowned. “Red leather box?”
“That’s it.”
“Never. I never did see it. I didn’t know he had one.”
“Indeed. — You, sir, are you answering questions?”
Lew Frost said, “I guess I am. Sure. But not about a red leather box. I’ve never seen it.”
Wolfe sighed. “Then I’m afraid we’ll have to go on. I may as well tell you, Miss Frost, that Mr. McNair foresaw — at least, feared — what was waiting for him. While you were here yesterday he was at his lawyer’s executing his will. He left his property to his sister Isabel, who lives in Scotland. He named me executor of his estate, and bequeathed me his red leather box and its contents. He called here to ask me to accept the trust and the legacy.”
“He named you executor?” Llewellyn was gazing at him incredulously. “Why, he didn’t know you. Day before yesterday he didn’t even want to talk to you...”
“Just so. That shows the extent of his desperation. But it is evident that the red box holds the secret of his death. As a matter of fact, Miss Frost, I was glad to see you here today. I hoped for something from you — a description of the box, if nothing more.”
She shook her head. “I never saw it. I didn’t know... but I don’t understand... if he wanted you to have it, why didn’t he tell you yesterday...”