“I believe that’s right,” Nevis said.
“I am wondering if some of that money didn’t go into the Eastern Art Import and Trading Company, a partnership composed, as I understand it, of Farnsworth, you two, and Ricardo Taonon.”
“I don’t think it did,” Nevis said.
“I’m wondering. I’m going to try to unscramble some of Farnsworth’s financial affairs, which, I understand, were pretty badly mixed up.”
Nevis ran a big clumsy hand over the top of his head, scratched the hair at the base of his neck. “Hang it, Clane,” he said, “there’s something strange about Farnsworth’s financial affairs. He put ten thousand dollars into the Eastern Art Import and Trading Company all right. He always insisted that was his own. Cynthia Renton’s money went into an oil deal that didn’t pan out. But he offered to take that off her hands any time she wanted to handle it that way.
“Shortly before his death he told us all about it and asked us to let him have ten thousand bucks out of the partnership and charge it to his account.
“We understood how it was and Ricardo told him he could have it any old time he needed it.”
“He had some gold-mining stuff up around Baguio in the Philippines,” Clane said.
“We sent him over there,” Gloster said. “The partnership.”
“I heard that was on his own,” Clane said.
Gloster shook his head. “Ricardo engineered that whole deal. He wanted to keep it under cover and it was given out at the time over there that it was Farnsworth who was making the mining investments. It was all partnership. Farnsworth’s signature’s on the agreement, all signed before a notary.”
“That’s right,” Nevis said. “The trust stuff for Miss Renton is another story. That went into the oil stock. He was willing to take that off her hands. He knew you were coming back, and Ed Harold had been asking questions, so Horace arranged for the ten thousand dollars to pay Miss Renton back her money in cash if she wanted. I guess the oil stuff is worth maybe six or seven thousand, but it’s apt to go up. Horace left twenty thousand in insurance, payable to his estate, so nobody’s going to lose anything. And, as I say, he’d arranged to draw ten thousand from the partnership any time he needed it for Miss Renton.”
“Leave a will?” Clane asked.
“No will. No near relatives. There’s a half sister in the East somewhere. I guess she’ll take the estate.”
“Who’s handling the estate?” Clane asked.
“The Public Administrator.”
“Did Horace leave any detailed account of the trust investment?”
“Yes. He left a statement of trusteeship and a statement that his investments with the trust funds were in this oil business, and that he felt he was partially to blame the stock wasn’t worth more. Therefore he said that if anything happened to him he was giving the beneficiary the option either to take over that investment or to take the cash.”
“Signed by him?”
“Signed before a notary.”
“Rather strange a man would make a statement like that unless he anticipated he wouldn’t live long. He didn’t have any premonition, did he?”
“Not that we knew about, Clane. He was peculiar. Given to morose periods of silence. That oil investment worried him. He thought when he went into it he was going to make a million for Cynthia Renton.”
Clane said, “Well, I’m here. I’m going to look into a lot of things. I wanted you to know. You can either cooperate or not. It’ll make a difference whether you want to... in the way I play things.”
“We want to,” Nevis said.
Gloster was silent for a moment, then blurted, “I don’t see just where it’s... well, any of your business.”
“I’m making it my business,” Clane said. “Is that plain?”
“Plain enough,” Gloster said. “Go right ahead. I’ll be in favor of giving you what information you’re entitled to, but I’m not going to open any partnership books to you. And you can bet Ricardo won’t either.”
Nevis said, “After all, we have to account to the Public Administrator, George. Why couldn’t we...?”
“Because we aren’t going to and we don’t have to,” Gloster said, interrupting. “Business is business. Clane comes barging back like the knight in shining armor and sends us a wireless telling us to meet him here on a matter of great importance. Shucks! I’m busy. I don’t intend to be pushed around. Facts are facts, and the facts are there in writing. As far as Horace is concerned, the killing wasn’t over money. It was just plain damn jealousy. Ed Harold thought he was sort of a guardian for Cynthia Renton, and he resented Horace having anything to do with her. And Horace wasn’t at all certain but what Ed Harold was taking altogether too keen an interest in Cynthia Renton’s money rather than in Cynthia herself. And that’s your murder, right there in a nutshell.”
Nevis nodded. “George is right, Clane.”
“And the documents showing this partnership gold deal in the Philippines are all signed by Farnsworth?” Clane asked.
“Before a notary,” Nevis said.
“Look here,” Gloster said. “I don’t give a damn about Cynthia Renton’s money or about Horace Farnsworth. If Horace used part of Cynthia’s money to put into this partnership, then she’s entitled to his share, and that’s a nice little melon. If he didn’t, she can get her ten thousand bucks back. Farnsworth told me Cynthia’s money went into the oil, and it worried him. He also put that in writing. I guess that’s enough. If you don’t like it, go talk with the Public Administrator. If you don’t like that, Cynthia Renton can get herself a lawyer. And if you’ll take my advice, don’t go messing around in something that’s none of your business. Edward Harold did that, and where is he now?”
“I guess that’s what the police want to know,” Clane said.
“That’s right. He escaped last night,” Nevis said. “It was a fool move. He can’t get away with it. They’ll nab him sooner or later and any chance of a commutation of sentence from the governor’s office is out of the window now. It’s a shame. He isn’t a bad sort, but he’s hotheaded and he’s bullheaded. Not a good combination.”
Gloster said, “I’ve got things to do. I’m going home.”
He moved over to the coat closet, put on his hat and coat, casually opened the door of the private office, called back over his shoulder, “Good night,” and went out.
Nevis made an awkward attempt to be friendly. “George never liked Harold,” he said, “and... well, you know how it is. He’s just, also he’s dour and crabby. Everyone who knows George knows he’s honest as the day is long.”
Clane nodded, said after a moment, “I’d like to talk with Ricardo.”
“He’d have been here if he could,” Nevis assured him. “I guess he knew what you wanted. Guess we all did as far as that’s concerned. If I can help you any, why, let me know. If Cynthia Renton can show any of her dough went into this partnership, she’s certainly welcome as far as I’m concerned. It would be a nice piece of cash.”
“What is Farnsworth’s share worth?” Clane asked.
“You could guess it as around a hundred thousand bucks,” Nevis said. “And his investment was exactly ten grand. That, of course, is a coincidence. It might be a good one for you. But Horace told me that Cynthia’s money went into the oil deal. He told George the same thing, and it’s in writing. I don’t think you can beat that. We don’t care who gets his share.”
“Thank you,” Clane said, shaking hands. “I wanted to get the facts first hand. If Horace signed those statements, I guess that’s all there is to it. Cynthia wants cash to pay for Harold’s lawyers and to finance his appeal. I wanted to get the low-down here.”