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Manderton resumed, looking round the group and emphasising the "did," "was his will and this letter ..." he held up a typewritten sheet of slatey-blue paper "which, a straightforward business communication in appearance, was in reality a threat against his life. It was with these two documents that Mr. Parrish spent the last few hours before he was found dead in this room.
The man's tone nettled him exceedingly. But he confined himself to making a little gesture of impatience. "No, no, sir," said Mr. Manderton, very decidedly, "I prefer to think that the library door was open, left open by the party who went in to speak to Mr. Parrish yesterday afternoon ... and who knows more about the gentleman's suicide than he would have people think ..."
"Oh, Miss," he said, lowering his voice, "if you'll pardon my frankness, but I know as how you and Mr. Greve are old friends, and I wouldn't take it upon me to tell the police anything as might ..." Mary Trevert stood up and faced the man. "Bude," said she, "Mr. Parrish was your master, a kind and generous master as he was kind and generous to every one in this house.
"So this," said Robin, pointing at the letter, "was what caused Hartley Parrish to make his will. It would lead one to suppose that it was what induced him to commit suicide were not the presumption so strong that he was murdered. But who killed him? Was it Jeekes or Marbran?" Herr Schulz pitched his cigar-stump into an ash-tray.
Personally you did not know Parrish, but you found out what you could about him: that he was connected with the law, that he lived in London, in one of the places where lawyers do live. You determined to come to England for revenge. I do not say you were not justified. I do not know the circumstances. That was three years ago.
At this everybody turned and looked at the Inspector, who blushed until the tint of his hair positively paled by comparison with that of his face. "What Mr. Archer did leave with Mr. Parrish, however," Mr.
Don't you realize that every scrap of evidence points to you as being the man that visited Mr. Parrish in the library this afternoon? You're a lawyer, Robin. You understand these things. Don't you see what I mean?" He nodded curtly. "Perfectly," he replied coldly. "Bude will do what I tell him," the girl hurried on. "There is no need for the police to know...."
Parrish is never disturbed in the library ..." The butler changed his position uneasily. "Yes, Miss, but I thought ..." Slowly Mary Trevert turned and looked at the man. "Bude," her voice was very calm, "I want you to tell me the truth. You know that Mr. Greve went in to Mr. Parrish ..." Bude looked uneasily about him. "Oh, Miss," he answered, almost in a whisper, "whatever are you saying?"
The first case occurring at this place, to which the author's attention was called, was a cow belonging to Mr. D. Parrish, which had been exposed by coming in contact with Ward's cattle, had sickened, and died.
"Get on to the police station at Stevenish at once, Bude," he ordered. "Do you know the Inspector?" "Yessir," the butler answered in a hollow voice. His hands were trembling violently, and he seemed to control himself with difficulty. "Mr. Humphries, sir!" "Well, ring him up and tell him that Mr. Parrish ... Hullo, what do all these people want?" There was a commotion at the door.