"My arrival seems to cause you and Jim a great deal of quite unmerited surprise," said Sir Adrian. "I had five days of unbroken sunshine and then came home."
"Oh, I see! I say, Jim, I've asked Mr. Roberts in to tea. Is it all right? I met him outside the cinema, and he asked whether I thought you'd mind him coming up to see you some time. You don't, do you? I told him I knew you wouldn't."
"And, as you see, I took him at his word and ventured to come," said Oscar Roberts from the open doorway. "But you've only to say the word and I'll catch the next bus back to Portlaw."
"Of course not! Do come in!" said Jim. "Adrian, may I introduce Mr. Roberts? My stepfather, Sir Adrian Harte, sir."
"Pleased to meet you, Sir Adrian. Your son and I have been getting along fine together—or rather we were till this durned sergeant from Scotland Yard came and cut me right out of the picture," he added with a twinkle.
"Oh, I say, sir, that's not fair!" protested Timothy. "It was only that I wanted to see how a detective really works."
Oscar Roberts dropped a hand on his shoulder and pressed it. "Sure you did, sonny. I was only kidding. Well, I fancy you don't want a stranger butting in on your family party, Mr. Kane. Maybe if I came along tomorrow—"
Sir Adrian said: "I seem to be in the way. I'm sure you would like some private conversation with my stepson, Mr. Roberts. I was just about to go up to my room. You may come with me, Timothy."
He bore Timothy off with him. Oscar Roberts took the chair his host pushed forward and said: "I've not come to persuade you into falling in with my proposition."
Jim laughed. "Thank God for that!"
"Yes, I thought you'd perhaps be receiving a visit from one or other of your partners." He accepted a cigar from the box Jim held out to him and sought in his pocket for his cutter. As he lit the cigar he said, peering at Jim through the smoke: "Say, I'd like us to be frank, Kane."
"By all means."
Roberts leaned forward to lay his dead match in the ashtray on the table. "That certainly makes it easier to say what I want to. I wouldn't like you to get me wrong over this little business deal I'm trying to put through. If I can get them, I want Kane and Mansell's nets for my firm to handle down under. But I'm not out to start a general holocaust all to get the best when the next-best will suit pretty near as well."
"I beg your pardon?" Jim stiffened a little.
The cool, calculating eyes did not waver. "Guess we'll leave it at that, Kane. There's been some mighty queer happenings in this house, and I'm bound to admit they seem to hang together a piece with my coming onto the scene. Maybe that's just a coincidence; maybe it's not. But I'd like to have you know that I'm not pressing your partners for an answer. I've a notion they'll try and put the screw on you. Well, I'm not turning it. I certainly shall be glad to get the matter settled one way or the other, but I appreciate your position, and I wouldn't be the one to push you into a deal you don't properly understand and might regret. That's no way to do business. I like to have you think it over and get some impartial advice. You won't keep me waiting any longer than is reasonable. I'll treat myself to a little vacation."
"It's extraordinarily decent of you," said Jim. "I do want time to find my feet; but isn't it asking rather a lot of you to keep you kicking your heels while I try to get abreast of this infernal net business?"
"If I see a chance of putting the deal through, I'll be content to kick my heels for a space." He regarded the tip of his cigar inscrutably. "It's not uninteresting—kicking my heels in Portlaw."
"You're interested in my cousin's murder?" said Jim bluntly.
"Well"—Roberts glanced at him with a slight look of amusement—"I feel I might be responsible in a roundabout way. You'll admit it's a fairly cute little problem the police are up against."
"A filthy case. They've called in Scotland Yard now."
"Yes, I'd the pleasure of receiving a call from Superintendent Hannasyde this morning."
"I believe he's pretty good. Rather a nice chap, I thought."
"Sure. I reckon he's the competent type they breed up at Scotland Yard. He's smart enough to get right onto Silas Kane's death. The trouble is, he's got mighty little to go on. Somebody certainly handled that business well. You have to hand it to them."
"You've always thought my cousin Silas was murdered, haven't you?" Jim asked curiously.
"I wouldn't say that. I thought maybe his death would bear some more investigating than it got."
"Yes, it looks like that now; but at the time I don't think any of us suspected there might have been foul play. It's going to be investigated now all right."
"That's so; but when you get a kind of family affair like this, it always seems to me the police have to work under a big handicap. This superintendent from London's no fool, but he doesn't know the folks he's dealing with. He can find out a lot through asking questions, but he can't get to know them the way a man moving amongst them like I am can. They're just naturally on their guard with him."
"You ought to have been a detective," said Jim, laughing.
Oscar Roberts smiled but said nothing.
"Do you mind telling me," said Jim; "have you got hold of something the police haven't?"
There was a slight pause. "Why, no, I wouldn't say that," replied Roberts in his measured way. "I'm not holding out on the police. Maybe I've got a hunch. I don't want you to feel sore at me chiselling in on what isn't, strictly speaking, any of my business. You've got to remember I was one of the first to see your cousin after he'd been shot. What's more, it sticks a bit in my head that I was to get Mr. Clement Kane's answer to my proposition that day. It looked a cinch he was going to turn me down flat. Well, he didn't get a chance to do it. Someone bumped him off first. Guess that gives me an excuse for taking an interest in the case, Kane."
"Oh, I've no objection!" Jim said. "Good luck to you!"
"Thanks." Roberts uncrossed his long legs and prepared to get up. "There's just one other thing I'd like to say." He rose and hesitated for a moment. "Don't misunderstand me, Kane: I'm going on a hunch only. But I'm bound to say that, if I stood in your shoes, I'd watch out for trouble."
Jim got up, a spark of anger in his eyes. "I think your hunch is fantastic, sir; but by God, if the Mansells think they can frighten me into falling in with their damned schemes they've got another guess coming to them!"
Oscar Roberts chuckled. "That's the spirit. But all the same, I wouldn't sit around by open windows all by yourself, Kane. An easy target's kind of tempting."
Jim's chin jutted mulishly. "If I thought there was a word of truth in it, damn it, I'd turn the whole Australian project down now!"
"Now, that's not what I want at all!" said Roberts. "I appreciate the way you feel, but I certainly didn't come here to put you right against my proposition."
Jim gave a reluctant laugh. "I'll try and keep an impartial mind. And thanks for the warning! Come out and join the tea party now."
Roberts demurred a little but allowed himself to be over-persuaded. Tea had been taken out on to the terrace some minutes before, and quite a large party was already gathered there. Emily, hearing of Sir Adrian's arrival, had come down in her best black silk dress, an honour not accorded by her to many, and was sitting with him beside her, listening to his cultured, rather languid voice with a less forbidding air than usual. Sir Adrian to every Kane but Jim was the unknown quantity.
Kane instinct bade Emily despise him for a fool who had never done a stroke of work in his life; Kane sense told her that, though he might be vague and impractical, he was no fool. His conversation was strange to her but gave her pleasure; his point of view nearly always clashed with her own, but though she might pour scorn on it, secretly she respected his judgment.