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"Kellner has the interests of the firm at heart, and is not personally connected with the affair. I don't suppose he will be pleased to have the old mystery raked up; naturally he will fear damage to the firm. I do not think he would be inclined to help us in any way, and I can imagine his being angry with Delverton for mentioning the affair to me."
"Had the detective who had the case in hand known that Kellner was to become a partner, he would undoubtedly have given him more attention," said Quarles. "He does not seem to have discovered that Kellner was in financial straits at the time." "Was he?" said Delverton. "I have found that it was so," I answered.
"I should like to have asked him whether John Delverton, the invalid partner, had seemed worried when he was last at the office." "He was not at the office that day. I asked that question, and Southey is certain upon the point." "Farrell might have left early to see him." "Of course, we might question Kellner," I suggested.
That afternoon a not infrequent visitor arrived on his bicycle, to which was tied a bouquet of glorious roses instead of a lamp; this was Charles Langholm, the novelist, who had come to live in Delverton, over two hundred miles from his life-long haunts and the literary market-place, chiefly because upon a happy-go-lucky tour through the district he had chanced upon what he never tired of calling "the ideal rose-covered cottage of my dreams," though also for other reasons unknown in Yorkshire.
I had become accustomed to it in Quarles, but in a stranger I should have resented it had not the professor told me of the peculiarity beforehand, and warned me not to be annoyed. He gave us an excellent dinner, and our conversation for a time had nothing to do with the mystery. "Well, Mr. Quarles, have you brought this affair to a head?" Mr. Delverton asked at last. "I think so."
Your fertile brain must hold others." "Yes, one more, and two opinions which lead up to it," was the quick reply. Delverton laughed. "It is not so absurd as the others, I trust." "The two opinions may lead you to change your ideas concerning this mystery. First, I believe Kellner was made a partner because he knew too much."
He was yachting round the coast and came ashore for golf. We played together several times, and became quite friendly. It was not until he began to talk about it that I remembered there had ever been a Delverton mystery. Practically he gave me the same history of the case as your report does, missing some points certainly, but enlarging considerably on others.
Delverton to-night," he said, "and I asked him if I might bring you. He returned to town at the beginning of the week, and I have seen him two or three times, once at the office in Austin Friars. I did not see Kellner, he happened to be away that day." Martin Delverton lived in Dorchester Square, rather a pompous house, and he was rather a pompous individual.
The only person even to suggest that Farrell had looked worried was the junior clerk, Small, and his uncorroborated opinion does not count for much. Besides, his affairs were in order, and he was about to be married. You must stop me, Mr. Delverton, if I make any incorrect statements." "Certainly. So far you have merely repeated what every one knows."
"Well, we seem to have used up our facts," said Quarles, "and are forced to theorize." Delverton smiled. "You must not jump to the conclusion that I have failed," said the professor quickly. "I did not promise to tell you the name of the murderer to-night. Let me theorize for a few moments. You told me you believed that Farrell's tragic end had hastened your brother's death.
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