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Updated: June 16, 2025
Something might have occurred which had revivified the old jealousy there might have been a sudden scene, a quarrel, high words: it was a pity, a thousand pities, that Dr. Wellesley refused to give the name of the person who, according to his story, was with him during the nineteen minutes' interval which "Going dead against him!" whispered Tansley to Brent.
Anthony the seventh son, with two of his sisters, as well as Thomas FitzHerbert's wife, who rode with them, whether as a spy or not was never known. Further, Mr. Fenton himself, hearing of their coming, had ridden up from Tansley, and missed the messenger that Marjorie had sent out.
Then Meeking, with a cynical laugh, picked up his papers and went off, and Brent, leaving Tansley talking to the superintendent, who was inclined to be huffy, strolled out of the Moot Hall, and went round to the back, with the idea of seeing for himself the narrow street which Krevin Crood had formally described.
"No," said Brent, "he did not." "Neither then nor at any other time?" "Neither then nor at any other time." The Coroner asked no further questions, and Brent sat down again by Tansley, and settled himself to consider whatever evidence might follow.
"I'll step round and see Tansley about it." Tansley had been one of the very few men whom Brent had invited to be present at his cousin's interment. He had just changed his mourning garments for those of everyday life and was settling down to his professional business when Brent was shown into his private office. "Busy?" demanded Brent in his usual laconic fashion.
It was drawn up by himself, in very concise terms, and duly executed, only a few days before his death. It suggests itself to me that he was impelled to this by the threat which is distinctly made in the letter you have just read." "I think we may take it that the late Mayor felt that he was in some personal danger," answered the Coroner. "What you say, Mr. Tansley, appears to corroborate that."
The panelling is divided, on each wall of the chamber, into seven compartments; the fourth compartment on the outer wall slides back, and gives access to a passage cut through the arch across St. Lawrence Lane and so to the Moot Hall." "There's one man here who knows all this!" whispered Tansley in Brent's ear. "Look at Krevin Crood!" Krevin was smiling.
Yet, in spite of that," continued Tansley, as if some after-thought struck him, "I'll say this for Wellesley: he's never allowed his undoubted jealousy of Wallingford to prevent him from supporting Wallingford on the Town Council. Wellesley, indeed, has always been one of his staunchest and most consistent supporters." "Oh, Dr. Wellesley's on the Town Council, is he?" asked Brent.
Then the will itself was in holograph, written out in Wallingford's own hand on a single sheet of paper, in the briefest possible fashion, and witnessed by his two clerks. And, most important and significant of all, it had been executed only a week previously. "Do you know how that strikes me?" observed Tansley in a low voice, as if he feared to be overheard.
And there were things to be done, and after he had breakfasted he set resolutely and systematically about doing them. Tansley's office first he made an arrangement with Tansley to meet him at Wallingford's rooms that afternoon, to go through any private papers that might be found there. Then his cousin's office there were clerks there awaiting instructions.
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