Pointer turned away from the instrument not quite so sure as the telephoning solicitor seemed to be that Armstrong's will could have no bearing on the crime—if Armstrong's death proved to be what it seemed, a crime. Percy Callard, for instance, might have a much better chance of dipping his hands in Armstrong's money bags with only a sister in charge of them. And she, as there was no clause about her re-marriage, became a very wealthy prize, and was still considered by many to be a lovely woman.
"Now for the major—do you know him?" Schofild asked, when Pointer, rejoined him and asked him what he had learned of the will.
"Only by sight."
The chief inspector opened the door of the library now, and a figure as tall, well set-up, and soldierly as his own, turned at the sound. Major Hardy was a well-known explorer and collector of trophies. His lean, hard face was bronzed to a point that made the chief inspector's tan look like pallor. The features were strongly molded. The dark eyes, with their thick lids, were set rather close together beneath powerful brows, but that only gave his glance a strongly-concentrated look like an eagle's rather than any hint of slyness. There was daring in the jaw, resolution and perhaps cruelty in the mouth. The small, trim ears were placed unusually high on the well-shaped head.
"I understand that there's been an accident to Armstrong," Hardy began, as Schofild shook hands and introduced the Scotland Yard man. It was to the latter that the major spoke.
"Yes, I'm sorry to say he's dead," Pointer replied. "He was found shot."
Major Hardy's brows drew still closer together as he listened.
"Do you mean suicide, or accident?" he asked.
"Murder probably." Pointer, too, could be as direct as any man.
"Murder!" Hardy stared from one to the other.
"In my opinion suicide is by no means excluded," Schofild said in a comforting voice.
"Where was he found? When?" Hardy demanded next.
"Did you send in a Chinese wedding-chest as a present to Mrs. Armstrong today?" Pointer asked, instead of replying.
"To her husband and to her, yes. What's that got to do with it?"
"Was it sent in today, sir?" Pointer persisted.
"At noon, yes. Why?"
Pointer told him of the events of the afternoon.
It was said of "Bob Hardy" that he did not blink once when a wounded rhino charged him, but his dark, weather-beaten face grew crimson as he heard just what it was that, enclosed in his gift, had been presented to Mrs. Armstrong and her guests. Even his eyes shone red. Hardy was shortly to take up an important position in the colonies. That helped him to keep back some of the words the two with him could almost see struggling to get past his locked lips. For a second he stood rigid. Then, suddenly, without intending to say the words, both Pointer and Schofild thought, he asked sharply, "Where's Farrant?"
"He's not here at the moment. Why, sir?"
"He should be here—to take charge. However"—he pulled himself up, breathing hard. "And Mrs. Armstrong?" he asked thickly—"this must have nearly killed her. They were devoted to each other, she and Boyd."
"Mrs. Armstrong's in the doctor's hands. He's given her an opiate," Schofild replied while Pointer asked:
"The name of the firm from whom you bought the chest?"
"Lee and Son, 19 Limehouse Street. But where are the trees that were inside?" Evidently the major was unable to believe that no trees had been found on the place. "I saw them put in myself," he added in explanation.
"Will you come up a moment, sir, and see if the chest upstairs really is the one you bought? After that, of course, we want to hear how you came to buy it, and all about it."
Once in the Chinese suite Hardy examined the outside of the chest very closely.
"It looks to me like the one I chose. But it might not be—I'm no authority on things Chinese any more than Armstrong was. But that one was filled to the brim with three hundred dwarf birch trees that Armstrong was buying to be distributed as presents to his guests.
"Those"—he gulped—"Chinese must be at the bottom of this, in some way. Armstrong had told me he might come on to Limehouse to have a look at the trees. But I thought that he had changed his mind."
"When did you buy the chest?" Pointer asked.
"This morning at eleven. The order had been placed a fortnight ago, but the two Lees wanted me to wait the arrival of a better example that had been shipped to them. They told me this morning that it had got damaged on the way, so I decided to be content with the one in stock, and arranged for the trees to be packed inside and for it to be sent up at once."
A look crossed Hardy's face, as of a man who suddenly remembers something which he considered trifling before but now sees as being of importance.
"It was to be here at noon. I dropped in around twelve to learn what Mrs. Armstrong thought of the trees. As nothing had come by one, I telephoned to the Lees, who told me that there had been a breakdown, but that we should have the thing without fail as soon as possible. It came around two, as a matter of fact. I stayed to see it delivered, helped to have it placed in that alcove over there, locked the door of the suite, hung up the key, it weighs half a ton, and rushed off. It must have been well past the half hour by then."
"Was the chest empty when you bought it?" Schofild asked.
"It was. I had the trees packed in my presence. They just went in."
"Was there any other similar chest on the premises, do you know?" Pointer asked.
"They told me there wasn't. But Chinese assurances!" Hardy finished savagely.
"And about Mr. Armstrong intending to be there?"
"Yesterday afternoon he and I were chatting at Boodle's about a bronze that he had bought. Without being a collector, like his cousin, he had a fancy for bronze, and Rufus Armstrong had told him he ought to see a Han leopard that had just arrived at the Lees' establishment. It had already been decided that he would buy for Mrs. Armstrong a consignment of dwarf birch trees which the Lees had offered me at a great bargain, and Armstrong said he might look in himself this morning and have a glance at the bronze. I told him I should be there at eleven, as I intended to wait till the last moment for something better to turn up—though Rufus Armstrong had already vetted the chest for me and told me it was a wonder in its own line and that we could look at the bronze together. But he evidently forgot all about it, as I did."
"What makes you think that, Major Hardy?"
"Because he didn't refer to it when he called me up this morning on the telephone around nine, or a thought before, and said that he had to go out of town for the day on a very important matter that he couldn't put off."
"He didn't say what it was that called him away?"
"No. All Armstrong said—he was evidently in a tearing hurry—was that he was called out of town for the day and might be late for the dinner Mrs. Armstrong, he, and I had planned to have together before going on to a friend's dance."
"Have you yourself any idea of what called him away in such a hurry?"
"Probably something connected with Westrex, his Westralian Exploration Company. That's a safe bet. For a cable's due any day now. The fact that he was willing to leave town today makes me think it must have been connected with it. But Farrant will know. Farrant is sure to know. That's why I asked for him just now."
"Now, going back to the chest, sir, did you look inside it when it came?"
"Most unfortunately, no! Mrs. Armstrong wanted to, but I was in a