‘If Lawrence was able to embezzle forty thousand pounds, the fortune must be a considerable one,’
‘Yes, indeed. Well, the youth claimed his legal rights, the auditors were called in and that is how Harry came to be mixed up in the business, for it was his firm which did the audit. Well, I don’t need to stress the result of the auditor’s findings. Instead of having three more years in which to make good the deficit or, as I think, make his arrangements to leave the country, Lawrence found himself in a most equivocal position.’
‘But what is Harry’s problem?’
‘Frankly, mother, Harry believes that old Sir Anthony was murdered.’
‘Evidence? Has Harry anything to go on?’
‘That’s the devil of it. So far, there doesn’t seem to be any evidence he could offer. The death certificate was quite in order and Sir Anthony was duly buried, the chief mourner being his snuffling heir, Thaddeus E. Lawrence. There we stick. Harry wants me to carry the matter further, but how can I?’
‘What was the supposed cause of death?’
‘An unsuspected aneurysm blew up while he and Lawrence were on holiday.’
‘Unsuspected?’
‘Yes. The doctor later declared that, like so many of the wretched things, it was probably congenital, and that Sir Anthony either didn’t know of it or had never mentioned the possibility.’
‘What about the symptoms?’
‘He complained to Lawrence of not feeling well, but, until the symptoms of brain haemorrhage, prefaced by severe headache and vomiting, followed by a coma, appeared, no doctor was informed. By that time it was too late to do anything for the poor old boy and he died in an hour or two without coming out of the coma.’
‘So why does Harry think he was murdered?’
‘Chiefly because his death was such a fortunate thing for Lawrence; also because he thinks anybody else would have sent for a doctor as soon as the old man complained of feeling unwell. As it was, Lawrence decided to bring him home, and he died upon arrival. Has Harry any kind of a case, medically speaking? So far as I am concerned, although I agree with him over the matter, in law he has none.’
‘A mere motive for murder has never been sufficient to prove guilt, as you would be the first to admit. If the medical certificate is in order I cannot see that Harry’s suspicions can have any real justification. To show that they are justified he would need to prove that Sir Anthony had called for medical attention when he first complained of feeling ill, and that this had been denied him. Even then one would be faced with the most extreme difficulty in proving criminal negligence, I fear.’
‘That’s what I’ve been at some pains to point out to Harry. The doubt in my own mind is whether there was any need for the aneurysm to have carried Sir Anthony off at all. Of course, he himself could not be questioned. By the time the doctor arrived, the patient was unconscious and died in coma, as I said. Is there anything which would look like a burst aneurysm but which would, in effect, be murder?’
‘Not to my knowledge and, in any case, a doctor who has issued a death certificate is not to be divorced at all easily from his findings. Who else was in the holiday lodging at the time?’
‘Nobody who would have reason for concern about the old man’s health. Sir Anthony and Lawrence had rented rooms in a small hotel on the Norfolk coast where they appear to have done no more than take short walks. They did not patronise the public lounge or the television room and no doctor saw Sir Anthony until he arrived home and was already comatose. Lawrence’s story is that as soon as Sir Anthony complained of feeling ill he bundled him into a car and took him home so that his own doctor could attend him. He says he telephoned the doctor, who came at once. He says he had no idea that the old man was at the point of death, or he would have called a doctor earlier, in spite of Sir Anthony’s protests.’
‘In spite of Sir Anthony’s protests?’
‘That is Lawrence’s story and there is nobody to challenge it unless you can think of some way in which Harry can take the thing further.’
‘Did Sir Anthony know of the embezzlement?’
‘Lawrence says not. He declares that he said nothing to Sir Anthony about it in order to spare him distress for as long as possible. Harry thinks differently. He contends that Lawrence sprang the bad news on the old man while they were on holiday, hoping that the shock would kill him.’
‘I doubt very much whether any such contention would hold water, although, medically speaking, it is sound enough. It does indicate, though, if it is true, that the presence of the aneurysm was known to Lawrence. That would be a very serious matter, but one which would be difficult to prove.’
‘That is what I told Harry. It seems to me that all we could prove is certain negligence in that there was too much delay in calling for medical advice. Still, if Lawrence called a doctor as soon as he got the old man home – a thing which, no doubt, can be proved – I don’t think any jury would convict, even if the thing got as far as a trial, and I don’t believe it would. The strongest part of Harry’s argument is that Lawrence knew he was Sir Anthony’s heir and was in trouble over the embezzlement. Against that, though, is the fact (known not only to Lawrence and myself, but to the Warden of Wayneflete) that I had offered to guarantee the money before Sir Anthony died.’
‘Yes, it hardly seems necessary that Sir Anthony should have been murdered, does it? I think Harry had better forget the whole matter and reflect upon the saying that the Devil looks after his own.’
‘I’m sure you are right. Harry went to the length of having a word with the doctor, but only got a flea in his ear.’
‘As he might have expected.’
‘Yes. Well, now, mother, to other matters, although they are still concerned with Lawrence’s affairs. I want to trace this Coralie St Malo woman. I’d like to make quite sure that she isn’t dead, too. We can’t get Lawrence for Sir Anthony’s death, but if anything has happened to Lawrence’s first wife I think we might have a case. If only to satisfy Harry I’d like to look into things, for I believe, with him, that Lawrence is a thorough-going scoundrel.’
‘It has yet to be proved that Coralie St Malo was blackmailing Lawrence.’
‘That need not be his only reason for disposing of her. I’d tackle the job of ferreting around for her myself, but I’m tied up with R. versus Verinder at present and haven’t a spare moment after today, so I wish you would deputise for me. Will you?’
‘I had much rather not involve myself. These things are much better left to the police. Besides, ferreting around, as you call it, is not one of the things I do best, particularly when there is so very little to go on.’
‘Not all that little, you know, mother. If there’s nothing fishy going on, why do I have such a suspicious mind about Lawrence and his messy little machinations?’
‘I cannot tell you. I did not form your mind. I left that to your father and to your mentors and preceptors. But why are you so suspicious? Is there something you have not mentioned?’
‘Yes, there is. The University town, as you probably know, has two cemeteries. I have combed both of them to find the Coralie St Malo grave but could not locate it, so I applied in both cemeteries to the persons in charge. They had no record of a burial of anybody called Coralie St Malo and suggested that I might try the various churchyards.