seen him this evening, then?’
‘Certainly not. What has happened? Has Dad committed some crime? Or why are the police present?’
He still showed no serious concern, but when Manton said, gravely, ‘Your father is dead, Mr Balfour,’ he voiced an explosive ‘No!’ and became eagerly inquisitive.
‘Tell me about it,’ he cried. ‘Somebody called up and ordered me to come here at once. Gave no reason. Now you tell me this! Where is he? Who did it? What happened?’
‘Hold on there, Mr Balfour,’ Burnet said, sharply; ‘if you didn’t know your father was dead, why do you say, “Who did it?” implying that your father was killed—?’
‘Killed? Of course, that is plain on the face of things. My father has not been ill. I come here on an order that gives me no reason for the call. I get here and find my father absent, the police here, and my father’s wife pretty much all gone to pieces, what else can I think but that my father was done in by somebody?’
‘Can you not think that your father may have been the aggressor and may have been—say, arrested?’
‘No! I can’t think anything like that of Philip Balfour! But you’ve no right to bait me. Tell me the truth.’
‘I think you should know the truth, Guy,’ and John Sewell’s voice was stern and positive. ‘Your father was killed this evening down at my shop. The criminal was some unknown person who came in, masked, and stabbed him.’
‘Who was he? Who did such an awful thing? You must find out, you police fellows; if you don’t, I’ll find out myself!’
‘I wish you could, Mr Balfour. But ranting and railing are to no effect. Can you tell us anything helpful about the circumstances? Had your father a fear of anyone? Any thought that he might be molested or attacked?’
‘Why no, of course not. Father was afraid of nobody! How ridiculous! He took the greatest precautions about the safety of his books but I never heard him express any fears for his life.’
‘You live down in the Village?’
‘Yes; Washington Square, South. But I shall move up here at once. You’ve no objections, have you, Alli? I am now, of course, head of the family, I shall take my father’s place in the house and look after the library.’
‘You are familiar with the contents of your father’s will?’
‘N-no, not exactly. But I am his only son, and naturally I inherit the estate.’
‘Don’t bank on that, Guy,’ Alli advised him; ‘you know that your father was very fond of me.’
‘Yes, and I suppose you wheedled him into leaving you a lot of property that should by right be mine? Oh, I’m not complaining, but though you are Dad’s present wife, I am his only child and I must have my rights.’
‘If you please, Mr Balfour, keep your attention on the subjects in hand. We have no knowledge, as yet, of Mr Balfour’s disposition of his estate. Who are his lawyers—or his trustees?’
‘I don’t know; you must get all that from his wife.’
‘I shall do so. And now, will you give me an account of how you spent this evening, before you came here?’
‘Well, no, I’d rather not.’
‘And I’d rather you would. Besides it will save you trouble to do so. For otherwise we shall have to find out for ourselves, and though we can easily do that, it would mean more or less unpleasantness for you as we should have to inquire among your friends and that would look as if you were an object of suspicion.’
‘Suspicion! Of killing my father?’
‘Not necessarily that, but there was a very valuable book stolen tonight from Mr Sewell’s shop and—I understand you are a collector.’
‘Collector? Bah! I have a few odd volumes that my father gave me now and then. He said I’d better save them up for a rainy day, as they would always sell for a goodish bit. But I say, Mr Sewell, did you get the Taxation book?’
‘What is the Taxation book, Mr Sewell?’ asked the Inspector, quickly, before Guy could be answered.
‘Please don’t discuss that this evening,’ Sewell said; ‘I don’t want to divulge its title at this moment. You shall learn all about it in due time, Inspector Manton. Meanwhile, if I can be of no further use, may I be allowed to go home? My wife will be getting anxious.’
‘Yes, you may go, Mr Sewell, also Mr Gill. Since Mr Balfour plans to stay at this house, I shall adjourn this inquiry until tomorrow morning, when we will resume it. I shall then want to see the lawyer and also the servants of the house as well as the principals. Mrs Balfour, what are your wishes concerning the immediate disposal of your husband’s body?’
Alli raised imploring eyes to him, as if this brutal question were the last straw.
‘I—I—’
Keith Ramsay spoke for her. ‘I think, Inspector, Mrs Balfour can better decide that in the morning. Can it not be left where it is until then, when arrangements can be made for the funeral?’
‘I’ll see to those things,’ Guy volunteered. ‘Mrs Balfour and I will look after the family details. I’m your right-hand man, Alli, and you can safely trust everything to me.’
She said, ‘Yes, Guy,’ and gave him a small smile that might mean anything at all and that did mean nothing.
She looked relieved as Guy seemed about to leave them.
‘I can be excused, I suppose?’ he said; ‘I want to get settled in my new quarters. I’ll send for my duffel in the morning. Alli, I’m going to adopt Dad’s suite. It can be shut off entirely from yours, you know, and I feel it is my right to have it.’
‘Very well, Guy, go ahead.’ She looked at him a little distantly but made no objection to his plan.
‘You’re fond of that young man?’ Manton said, casually, after Guy had gone.
‘Not quite that,’ Alli returned, ‘but, after all, he is his father’s son, and unless the will forbids it he has certain rights, ethically, if not legally. All those things will straighten themselves out.’
‘What character do you give your stepson?’ Burnet asked.
‘Guy is a fine fellow. He is like his father in many ways. He has his faults, of course, but they will pass with the years. He has a splendid sense of family honour and loyalty.’
‘Devoted to his father, eh?’ Burnet looked dubious. ‘Yet they couldn’t live in the same house.’
‘Don’t be silly!’ and Alli looked at him scornfully. ‘I explained that. Guy is hospitable by nature, though his father was not. The boy would have gay parties and late parties, and my husband was disturbed of his rest. But now Guy may come home if he likes. I don’t mind his frolics.’
‘You are none of you definitely held on suspicion,’ Manton said as he rose to go. ‘But you are all held as material witnesses. I shall expect you here tomorrow morning, Mr Sewell, and Mr Gill—at about ten o’clock.’
The policemen went away leaving a strong guard on the place, which might have disturbed Alli had she known it.
John Sewell advised his assistant to go home, saying he would remain a little longer.
Left alone with Alli and Keith Ramsay, Sewell declared his intention of instituting a search for his missing book on his own account.
‘The police are all right,’ he said, ‘on a murder case, or most other crimes, but a rare book, especially this particular one, is a matter outside their technical knowledge. So I am going to engage a friend of mine, Fleming Stone, to take up the matter of the book. And I’m wondering, Mrs Balfour, if you’d care to have him look into the mystery of your