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Carrington, still in his easy voice, but with a quick turn of his eyeglass towards the lawyer, "why was no outside assistance called in at once?" For a moment Simon Rattar's satisfaction with his visitor seemed to be diminished. He seemed, in fact, a little disconcerted, and his reply again became little more than a grunt. "Quite satisfied with them," seemed to be the reading of his answer.
The first was the burglary, which of course at once suggested the possibility that the man who had committed the crime at Keldale had returned to Rattar's house and got in by that window. The second was the nightly perambulations, which could easily be tested. When Mr. Rattar emerged at nine that night, I was in the garden before him. And what do you think he did?"
This procession skirted the plantation nearly down to the gate; then it turned at right angles, following the line of trees that bordered the wall between the garden and the road; and then again at right angles when it had reached the further corner of Mr. Rattar's demesne.
In fact, his taste seemed now to run to the very opposite extreme, for the points on which he insisted were length, stiffness, and a long and if possible somewhat pointed ferule. At last he found one to his mind, left his own cane to be sent down to the hotel, and walked out with his new purchase. His next call was at Mr. Simon Rattar's villa.
Till he fairly charmed it out of her, she had shrunk from telling him anything that seemed to reflect directly on her master or to be a giving away of his concerns. But now she confessed that Mr. Rattar's conduct, Mr. Rattar's looks, and even Mr. Rattar's very infrequent words had been troubling her strangely.
Carrington's interest in the subject seemed to wane, and after a few pleasant generalities, he thanked the Superintendent for his courtesy, and strolled down to the hotel for lunch. This time his air as he walked was noticeably brisker and his eye decidedly brighter. About three o'clock that afternoon came a ring at the front door bell of Mr. Simon Rattar's commodious villa.
It was burying the body that night." The boastful smile died off his lips and for a moment he shivered a little. "What happened about that?" enquired Carrington keenly. Rattar's voice instinctively fell a little. "When I got home that afternoon I found he wasn't quite dead after all!" "That accounts for it!" murmured Carrington. "For what?" "Your maid heard him moving."
"By the way," he asked, "can you remember if, by any chance, Sir Reginald had any difficulty or trouble or row of any kind with anyone whatever during, say, the month previous to his death? I mean with any of the tenants, or his tradesmen or his lawyer? Take your time and think carefully." Carrington dismissed his car at Mr. Rattar's office.
Rattar. I'm trying to get educated out of strong language, but, Lord, at my time of life it's not so damned I mean dashed easy!" Even Simon Rattar's features relaxed for an instant into a smile. "And who is educating you?" he enquired. Mr. Cromarty looked a little surprised. "Who but the usual lady? Gad, I've told you before of my sister's well meant efforts.
He now noticed also the cut on his chin, a sure sign that something had interrupted the orderly tenor of Simon Rattar's life, if ever there was one. Mr. Ison tried to guess whose business could have taken such a turn as to make Silent Simon cut himself with his razor, but though he had many virtues, imagination was not among them and he had to confess that it was fairly beyond James Ison.
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