‘You seem very positive?’
‘Joe would have told me.’
‘And you don’t think their motive could have been—well—to scrape acquaintance with the Captain?’
This was clearly a new idea to the Major. He pondered over it for some minutes.
‘Well, I never thought of that. They were very gushing to him, certainly. Not that they got any change out of Joe. But no, I think it was just their usual manner. Over friendly, you know, like Colonials are,’ added the super-insular soldier.
‘I see. Now, as to the house itself. Captain Trevelyan built that, I understand?’
‘Yes.’
‘And nobody else has ever lived in it? I mean, it’s not been let before?’
‘Never.’
‘Then it doesn’t seem as though it could be anything in the house itself that was the attraction. It’s a puzzle. Ten to one it’s got nothing to do with the case, but it just struck me as an odd coincidence. This house that Captain Trevelyan took, Hazelmoor, whose property was that?’
‘Miss Larpent’s. Middle-aged woman, she’s gone to a boarding house at Cheltenham for the winter. Does every year. Usually shuts the house up, but lets it if she can, which isn’t often.’
There seemed nothing promising there. The Inspector shook his head in a discouraged fashion.
‘Williamsons were the agents, I understand?’ he said.
‘Yes.’
‘Their office is in Exhampton?’
‘Next door to Walters & Kirkwood.’
‘Ah! then, perhaps, if you don’t mind, Major, we might just drop in on our way.’
‘Not at all. You won’t find Kirkwood at his office before ten anyway. You know what lawyers are.’
‘Then, shall we go?’
The Major, who had finished his breakfast some time ago, nodded assent and rose.
An alert-looking young man rose to receive them in the office of Messrs Williamson.
‘Good morning, Major Burnaby.’
‘Morning.’
‘Terrible business, this,’ said the young man chattily. ‘Not been such a thing in Exhampton for years.’
He spoke with gusto and the Major winced.
‘This is Inspector Narracott,’ he said.
‘Oh! yes,’ said the young man pleasurably excited.
‘I want some information that I think you can give me,’ said the Inspector. ‘I understand that you put through this let of Sittaford House.’
‘To Mrs Willett? Yes, we did.’
‘Can you give me full details, please, of how that came about. Did the lady apply personally, or by letter?’
‘By letter. She wrote, let me see—’ He opened a drawer and turned up a file. ‘Yes, from the Carlton Hotel, London.’
‘Did she mention Sittaford House by name?’
‘No, she merely said she wanted to rent a house for the winter, it must be right on Dartmoor and have at least eight bedrooms. Being near a railway station or town was of no consequence.’
‘Was Sittaford House on your books?’
‘No, it was not. But as a matter of fact it was the only house in the neighbourhood that at all fulfilled the requirements. The lady mentioned in her letter that she would be willing to go to twelve guineas, and in these circumstances I thought it worth while writing to Captain Trevelyan and asking whether he would consider letting. He replied in the affirmative, and we fixed the thing up.’
‘Without Mrs Willett seeing the house?’
‘She agreed to take it without seeing it, and signed the agreement. Then she came down here one day, drove up to Sittaford, saw Captain Trevelyan, arranged with him about plate and linen, etc., and saw over the house.’
‘She was quite satisfied?’
‘She came in and said she was delighted with it.’
‘And what did you think?’ asked Inspector Narracott, eyeing him keenly.
The young man shrugged his shoulders.
‘You learn never to be surprised at anything in the house business,’ he said.
On this note of philosophy they left, the Inspector thanking the young man for his help.
‘Not at all, a pleasure, I’m sure.’
He accompanied them politely to the door.
The offices of Messrs Walters and Kirkwood were, as Major Burnaby had said, next door to the estate agents. On reaching there, they were told that Mr Kirkwood had just arrived and they were shown into his room.
Mr Kirkwood was an elderly man with a benign expression. He was a native of Exhampton and had succeeded his father and grandfather in the firm.
He rose, put on his mourning face, and shook hands with the Major.
‘Good morning, Major Burnaby,’ he said. ‘This is a very shocking affair. Very shocking indeed. Poor Trevelyan.’
He looked inquiringly at Narracott and Major Burnaby explained his presence in a few succinct words.
‘You are in charge of the case, Inspector Narracott?’
‘Yes, Mr Kirkwood. In pursuance of my investigations, I have come to ask you for certain information.’
‘I shall be happy to give you any information if it is proper for me to do so,’ said the lawyer.
‘It concerns the late Captain Trevelyan’s will,’ said Narracott. ‘I understand the will is here in your office.’
‘That is so.’
‘It was made some time ago?’
‘Five or six years ago. I cannot be sure of the exact date at the moment.’
‘Ah! I am anxious, Mr Kirkwood, to know the contents of that will as soon as possible. It may have an important bearing on the case.’
‘Indeed?’ said the lawyer. ‘Indeed! I should not have thought that, but naturally you know your own business best, Inspector. Well—’ he glanced across at the other man. ‘Major Burnaby and myself are joint executors of the will. If he has no objection—’
‘None.’
‘Then I see no reason why I should not accede to your request, Inspector.’
Taking a telephone that stood on his desk he spoke a few words down it. In two or three minutes a clerk entered the room and laid a sealed envelope in front of the lawyer. The clerk left the room, Mr Kirkwood picked up the envelope, slit it open with a paper knife and drew out a large and important-looking document, cleared his throat and began to read—
‘I, Joseph Arthur Trevelyan, of Sittaford House, Sittaford, in the County of Devon, declare this to be my last will and testament which I make this thirteenth day of August nineteen hundred and twenty-six.
‘(1) I appoint John Edward Burnaby of 1 The Cottages, Sittaford, and Frederick Kirkwood of Exhampton, to be the executors and trustees of this, my will.
‘(2)