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Updated: June 11, 2025
You mustn't say you come from me. And if you ask boldly for the letter, they won't give it to you. Jeekes might, if he's there and you approach him cautiously. But, for Heaven's sake, don't try any diplomacy on Manderton ... that's the Scotland Yard man. He's as wary as a fox and sharp as needles." Bruce Wright buttoned up his coat with an air of finality.
But in the quick glance which accompanied it, there was an intent watchfulness which startled Bruce accustomed as he was to the mild and unemotional ways of the little secretary. "Not that I know of," said Bruce. "Greve is only puzzled like all of us that H.P. should have done a thing like this!" Mr. Jeekes was perfectly impassive again. "The nerves, young Wright!
"It's a confession!" she said. From beyond the grave the little secretary had spoken and spoiled Mr. Manderton's denouement. "For Miss Trevert." Thus, in Jeekes's round and flowing commercial hand, the document began: Last Statement of Albert Edward Jeekes, made at Rotterdam, this twenty-first Day of January, in the Year of Our Lord One Thousand Nine Hundred and... Mr.
"Whom did he tell this to?" "Miss Trevert!" "Miss Trevert?" Robin repeated the name in amazement. "I don't understand," he said. "Why on earth should Jeekes blacken his employer's character to Miss Trevert? What conceivable motive could he have had? Did she tell you this?" "No," said Manderton; "I heard him tell her myself."
"Nothing but circulars and bills," Bruce replied. Mr. Jeekes leaned forward and drank off his coffee with a swift movement. Then he said carelessly: "From what you tell me, Miss Trevert would have been perhaps a minute alone in the room without your seeing her?" Bruce agreed with a nod. Adjusting his pince-nez on his nose the secretary rose to his feet.
What a fool she had been to allow Euan MacTavish to persuade her to tell her mother of her plans! Mary suddenly felt very angry. How dare Mr. Jeekes spy on her like this! She was quite capable, she told herself, of handling her own affairs, and she intended to tell the secretary so very plainly. And if, as she was beginning to believe, Mr. Schulz were acting hand in glove with Mr.
"Yes, a particular kind of blue a sort of slatey-blue Jeekes showed me one as a guide. Well, these letters were to be handed to Mr. Parrish unopened." Robin had stood up. "That's odd," he said, diving in his pocket. "I say, hold on a bit," protested the boy, "this is really rather important what I am telling you. I'll never finish if you keep on interrupting."
He cast a panic-striken glance around him. But Mary Trevert held him fast. "You didn't finish what you were saying about Mr. Parrish, Mr. Jeekes," she said impassively. The secretary made no sign. But he looked a trifle sullen. "I don't think you realize, Mr. Jeekes," she said, "that other people besides myself are keenly interested in the motives for Mr. Parrish's suicide.
"Did Jeekes know about it?" "Jeekes? Do you mean Parrish's secretary? "It's funny your asking that. As a matter of fact, it was through Jeekes that I heard the lady was dead. I was in Le Hagen's office one day when Jeekes came in, and Le Hagen told me Jeekes had come to pay in a cheque for the cost of the funeral and the transport of the body to France."
He looked shrewdly at Robin, then dropped his eyes to the floor. "He also told her that Le Hagen and you were in business relations ..." Robin sat up at this. "Ah!" he said shortly. "I see what you're getting at now. Our friend has been trying to set Miss Trevert against me, eh? But why? I don't even know this man Jeekes except to have nodded 'Good-morning' to him a few times.
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