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Updated: June 24, 2025
If you will give me some hint as to what it was, it might be very helpful." "Unfortunately, I am as much in the dark as yourself," returned Mr. Brimsdown, rubbing his brow thoughtfully. "I cannot make the faintest guess at the reason which called forth this letter. I know next to nothing of my late client's private life. He was a man of the utmost reticence in personal matters.
He had gathered that piece of news from an evening newspaper in the restaurant where he had dined. Mr. Brimsdown had reached an age when the most poignant events of human life seem little more than trifles. It was in the nature of things for men to die. As a lawyer he had prepared many last wills and testaments had helped men into their graves, as it were unmoved.
"It is hardly possible that she could have inflicted those marks on the arm," Mr. Brimsdown said. "How did you learn of them?" asked the detective quickly, in a changed tone. Too late Mr. Brimsdown realized that in contrast to his silence with Charles Turold, he had now gone to the other extreme and said too much.
"Not always." The incident did not sound convincing to Mr. Brimsdown, but his face did not reveal his scepticism as he thanked Thalassa for the information. Thalassa lingered, as if he had something still on his mind. He brought it out abruptly "Has anything been seen of Miss Sisily?" "Nothing whatever, Thalassa."
"Can you, with your knowledge of old clocks, suggest any reason which would cause Robert Turold to go to it? Are the works intricate? Would such a clock require much adjustment?" "Robert Turold was not likely to think of adjusting a clock in his dying moments," returned Mr. Brimsdown, with a glance which betokened that he perfectly understood his companion had some other reason for his question.
You need not hesitate to disclose to me all you know. Your late brother honoured me with his confidence for nearly thirty years." Mr. Brimsdown coughed discreetly. His tone invited confidences which Mrs. Pendleton, in her perplexity of spirit, was only too anxious to impart to a sympathetic ear. Mr.
The will was watertight and properly attested. The bulk of the property was bequeathed to Austin Turold unconditionally. There were only two other bequests. Austin Turold and Mr. Brimsdown were named as joint executors, and that was all. Mr.
Brimsdown questioned Thalassa about the letter, and heard with a feeling of dismay his declaration that he had not posted it. Where was the nearest pillar box? Nearly a mile away, at the cross-roads. Could his late master have gone there to post it that night? If he had, Thalassa hadn't heard him go out. Could anybody else have posted it? No; there was nobody else to post it.
"But I knew better I knew Robert would never do anything so dreadful. Besides, had I not seen that horrible old man-servant glaring through the door? That is why I went to the police." As Mrs. Pendleton showed a tendency to repeat herself, Mr. Brimsdown rose to terminate the interview. Mrs. Pendleton rose, too, but she had not yet reached the end of her surprises for him.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked. "If you will come to Flint House I will show you." Mr. Brimsdown stroked the cautious chin of an old man plunged into a situation which he could not fathom. "Would it not be better to consult the police first?" he temporized. "The police are now searching the country for Sisily, and there is no time to be lost."
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