"I wasn't always," explained Harding.
"I thought perhaps you weren't. If it isn't a rude question — snub me, if it is — why are you now?"
"Partly because of the war, and partly because I've always had rather a liking for criminology."
"How ghoulish!" remarked Miss Fawcett. "What were you going to be?"
"A barrister. I was reading for the Bar up at Oxford when the war broke out."
"Couldn't you have gone on with it afterwards?"
"Not very well. My father died the year the war ended, and there wasn't any too much money. So I thought I'd better be self-supporting as soon as I could."
"Mouldy for you," said Miss Fawcett with real sympathy.
"Oh no!" said Harding cheerfully. "I didn't mind."
"Well, I suppose it's fairly interesting work in a way, and you'll end up by being the head of Scotland Yard or something."
"I can't imagine anything more improbable. In any case I'm thinking of retiring and rearing chickens or pigs instead."
"There's absolutely no money in chicken-farming unless you do it on a colossal scale," said the wordly-wise Miss Fawcett. "I know several people who tried it, and they all went bust."
"Then it'll have to be pigs," said Harding philosophically.
"Awfully mucky," objected Dinah.
"Chickens on a colossal scale then."
She shook her head. "You'd have to sink a frightful lot of capital in it," she said seriously.
"Never mind, I've come into quite a pleasant legacy, most unexpectedly."
"Well, I shouldn't blue it on fowls," said Dinah.
They were still discussing the disposal of Inspector Harding's legacy when the car swept up the Grange drive, and might, Dinah reflected, as she alighted at the front door, have known one another for years. "Now I suppose you want to get on with this impressive ceremony of opening the safe," she remarked. "I don't know if Mr. Tremlowe knows the combination, but if he doesn't he's about the only person in the house doesn't."
Harding looked quickly down at her. "Is that really so?"
"Yes, of course. It's only a potty affair," Dinah answered. "I've seen Arthur work it myself."
"Have you indeed?" murmured Harding, and followed her into the house.
Mr. Tremlowe had already arrived, and was standing in the hall, talking in shocked and lowered tones to Fay who had evidently come out of the drawing-room to meet him. Dinah at once introduced Harding to him.
"I have just been telling Lady Billington-Smith how more than distressed I am that I should have been out of town on Monday, "said the lawyer in a precise voice. "I trust my unavoidable delay in coming down has not in any way hindered you, Inspector?"
"Not at all," replied Harding. He bowed slightly to Geoffrey, who just then came out of the billiard-room.
"Oh — er — good morning!" said Geoffrey. "Hullo, Mr. Tremlowe! The Inspector wants you to open Father's safe. I suppose Fay and I ought to be there, oughtn't we."
"Undoubtedly," said Tremlowe. "I have also your father's Will with me, which presently I will read to you. I should tell you, Lady Billington-Smith, that I thought it proper to advise Captain Billington-Smith of what has occurred, in case you had omitted, in the very natural flurry of the moment, to do so. As no doubt you are aware, Captain Billington-Smith is one of the principal legatees. I am expecting him to join me here for the reading of the Will."
"Oh, my God!" exclaimed Geoffrey. "You don't mean to say Francis is coming back?"
"Certainly," said Mr. Tremlowe coldly. "It is very right that he should be here. Now, Lady Billington-Srnith, if you are ready I am sure the Inspector would like to see the safe opened without further delay."
"Yes, of course," Fay answered, looking nervously towards Harding, and slipping her hand in Dinah's arm. "Come along, Geoffrey."
There was a constable on duty in the study. Harding dismissed him, and shut the door. Fay clung tightly to Dinah's arm, shivering a little, her eyes on the empty chair by the desk. Dinah pressed her hand reassuringly, and adjured her in a whisper to buck up.
"Do you know the combination, Mr. Tremlowe?" asked Geoffrey. "Because if not I can open it for you."
"Thank you, the General deposited the key with me some time ago," replied Mr. Tremlowe, putting on a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles. He produced a piece of paper from his pocket-book, and advanced towards the safe.
He was checked by Harding's voice. Just one moment, please. Lady Billington-Smith, before Mr. Tremlowe opens the safe, can you tell us what we may expect to find in it?"
Fay withdrew her gaze from the swivel-chair with an effort. "I'm sorry," she said shakily. "What did you say?"
Harding repeated his question. She put up her hand to push the hair off her brow. "I — I don't think I know," she said. "My — my husband never actually showed me. I have an idea he kept certain documents in it, but I'm not really sure."
"Is it likely that there is any money in it, do you think?"
"Yes, quite a wog," replied Miss Fawcett, seeing his sister quite vague on the subject. "Arthur told us he was going to the bank at breakfast on Monday."
"Yes, yes, of course!" Fay said. "It was the first of July wasn't it? I'm sorry to be so stupid, I don't seem to be able to think. My husband invariably paid all the staff and the household books, and any other bills there might be on the first of each month. And there would be money for current expenses too."
"About how much, Lady Billington-Smith? Can you give me any idea?"
She frowned over it, trying to collect her thoughts. "I don't know exactly. About two hundred and fifty pounds. It was usually something like that. Sometimes rather more, sometimes less."
"Thank you. Yes, please open it, Mr. Tremlowe."
The lawyer bent over the lock of the safe; after a few moments the heavy door swung open, revealing a quantity of legal-looking documents, tied up with pink tape, some other papers, and, just inside the safe, abundle of new bank-notes, and some bags of silver. Mr. Tremlowe lifted these up, glancing at the Inspector. "I take it that you would like me to count these before I inspect the rest of the contents of the safe?" he asked.
"I should, please," Harding answered.
"Then I will do so," said Mr. Tremlowe, and walked over to the desk, and sat down in the swivel-chair.
Fay gave a tiny shudder. Geoffrey said in an undertone to Dinah: "This room feels absolutely ghastly . I wish he wouldn't be so beastly slow; I shall be damned glad to get out of here."
It seemed a long while before Mr. Tremlowe looked up from his task. "There are one hundred and ten pounds here, in notes of varying denominations, and ten pounds' worth of silver," he announced, and methodically slipped the rubber band round the bundle again.
Harding looked at Fay, who was frowning. "One hundred and twenty pounds?" she said. "Are you sure, Mr. Tremlowe?"
"Perfectly," said the lawyer placidly.
"There must be more than that," she said. "I mean, there ought to be more. One hundred and twenty pounds couldn't possibly cover all the expenses."
"Your husband paid no bills by cheque?" suggested Harding.
"No, not local ones. He always used to say it was wasting twopence to do that. I can't understand it."
Geoffrey said, stammering slightly: "D-do you mean someone's robbed the safe, Inspector?"
"I have no idea," replied Harding. "But a visit to your lather's bank will tell us what was the exact sum he drew on Monday morning."
"If anyone robbed the safe, why not have taken the lot?" said Dinah practically. "He must have paid bills in Ralton before he came home."
"That we can easily find out," said Harding, and glanced at his wrist-watch. "I'll go along to the bank now, if you will tell me which one it is, Lady Billington-Smith, and if you, Mr. Tremlowe, will let me have the numbers of those notes."