fears.
‘Well, well,’ said Harrington, when it was done. ‘So he thinks I’m here to murder him for his money. In point of fact, Cousin Claude ‘he sneered the name ‘I am not interested in Dreem profits. I make plenty of money as it is. I came here because I’d grown curious. The family’s been in the headlines a lot lately. I received a letter suggesting that I might be mentioned in one will or another, and that tickled my curiosity but not my greed. Prendergast money is dirty money by now, I should think. Didn’t you know that?’
Roger ignored the comment.
“Who sent you the letter?’
‘A solicitor named Gabriel Potter.’
He must have seen that he had created something close to a sensation. Roger frowned. Mark said ‘Well, well!’ Janet sat down heavily on the arm of the settee. Claude exclaimed after a short pause: ‘ Potter said you would be interested? Potter? That devil, he’s behind this. That’s why she took me to him!’
Something ought to be done about Claude. Roger wanted a rational talk with Harrington, but was not likely to get it with Claude present. He saw the grey pallor spread over Claude’s cheeks, and believed that he was suffering from the strain that had affected him at Fulham. There was something unnatural about Claude. There was a beading of sweat on his forehead, and on his upper lip.
‘I can’t stand any more of this,’ he muttered. He passed a hand across his brow. The perspiration there surprised him; he stared at his wet hand in bewilderment, and then drew a deep breath. He was shivering. ‘I just can’t stand it. I feel ill. I don’t think I’m well.’ He leaned back in the corner of the settee and closed his eyes. Harrington glanced at Roger, puzzled, doubting.
Roger said softly; ‘He is ill.’
Mark reached the little man’s side.
‘You’d better go to bed. I’ll come up to your room with you.’ He eased the man up. Claude made no attempt to resist or to help himself, but staggered and grabbed a table for added support. His face was now a fiery red, and he kept licking his lips.
‘Gi-give me a drink, will you?’
Roger was halfway towards the cabinet when Claude gave another exclamation. His knees bent and his legs doubled up. He fell so unexpectedly that Mark could only break his fall. He lay still, breathing torturously.
‘He’s passed out,’ Mark said.
‘He needs a doctor,’ declared Janet.
Harrington neither moved nor spoke.
6: Claude as Well?
The Old manservant was able to tell them the doctor’s name and telephone number. The name was Tenby. Roger knew of him as the local police surgeon.
Claude was carried by Harrington and Mark to his room. The servants fussed and scurried, taken by surprise like the three visitors.
Roger went to the telephone.
Dr Tenby promised to come at once when he heard that the call was from Delaware. Into his mind, Roger imagined, had sprung the same thought as to his, Mark’s, Janet’s and, judging from their demeanour, the servants’; that the last of the Prendergasts was going the way of the others.
The servants were all old or middle-aged, and had been with the family for years. He wondered how much they could tell of the history of the family and if it would be interesting. He would find out later. This was Lampard’s district.
Roger telephoned the Guildford Police Station.
Lampard was not there, but Roger was given the Guildford Inspector’s private number.
He answered, curtly.
Roger explained.
‘I’ll come over,’ Lampard said. ‘Thanks for ringing.’
Janet came down with Harrington as Roger finished telephoning. The man was a head taller than Janet, and quite composed.
Mark was staying with Claude, Janet said.
‘I’m beginning to think my cousin’s genuinely frightened, whether there’s any need or not,’ said Harrington. ‘That collapse wasn’t natural there was something odd about it.’
‘Yes,’ said Roger dryly, ‘There are a lot of peculiar things in this
‘Well, well,’ said Harrington, when it was done. ‘So he thinks I’m here to murder him for his money. In point of fact, Cousin Claude ‘he sneered the name ‘I am not interested in Dreem profits. I make plenty of money as it is. I came here because I’d grown curious. The family’s been in the headlines a lot lately. I received a letter suggesting that I might be mentioned in one will or another, and that tickled my curiosity but not my greed. Prendergast money is dirty money by now, I should think. Didn’t you know that?’
Roger ignored the comment.
“Who sent you the letter?’
‘A solicitor named Gabriel Potter.’
He must have seen that he had created something close to a sensation. Roger frowned. Mark said ‘Well, well!’ Janet sat down heavily on the arm of the settee. Claude exclaimed after a short pause: ‘ Potter said you would be interested? Potter? That devil, he’s behind this. That’s why she took me to him!’
Something ought to be done about Claude. Roger wanted a rational talk with Harrington, but was not likely to get it with Claude present. He saw the grey pallor spread over Claude’s cheeks, and believed that he was suffering from the strain that had affected him at Fulham. There was something unnatural about Claude. There was a beading of sweat on his forehead, and on his upper lip.
‘I can’t stand any more of this,’ he muttered. He passed a hand across his brow. The perspiration there surprised him; he stared at his wet hand in bewilderment, and then drew a deep breath. He was shivering. ‘I just can’t stand it. I feel ill. I don’t think I’m well.’ He leaned back in the corner of the settee and closed his eyes. Harrington glanced at Roger, puzzled, doubting.
Roger said softly; ‘He is ill.’
Mark reached the little man’s side.
‘You’d better go to bed. I’ll come up to your room with you.’ He eased the man up. Claude made no attempt to resist or to help himself, but staggered and grabbed a table for added support. His face was now a fiery red, and he kept licking his lips.
‘Gi-give me a drink, will you?’
Roger was halfway towards the cabinet when Claude gave another exclamation. His knees bent and his legs doubled up. He fell so unexpectedly that Mark could only break his fall. He lay still, breathing torturously.
‘He’s passed out,’ Mark said.
‘He needs a doctor,’ declared Janet.
Harrington neither moved nor spoke.
6: Claude as Well?
The Old manservant was able to tell them the doctor’s name and telephone number. The name was Tenby. Roger knew of him as the local police surgeon.
Claude was carried by Harrington and Mark to his room. The servants fussed and scurried, taken by surprise like the three visitors.
Roger went to the telephone.
Dr Tenby promised to come at once when he heard that the call was from Delaware. Into his mind, Roger imagined, had sprung the same thought as to his, Mark’s, Janet’s and, judging from their demeanour, the servants’; that the last of the Prendergasts was going the way of the others.
The servants were all old or middle-aged, and had been with the family for years. He wondered how much they could tell of the history of the family and if it would be interesting. He would find out later. This was Lampard’s district.
Roger telephoned the Guildford Police Station.
Lampard was not there, but Roger was given the Guildford Inspector’s private number.
He answered, curtly.
Roger explained.
‘I’ll come over,’ Lampard said. ‘Thanks for ringing.’
Janet came down with Harrington as Roger finished telephoning. The man was a head taller than Janet, and quite composed.
Mark was staying with Claude, Janet said.
‘I’m beginning to think my cousin’s genuinely frightened, whether there’s any need or not,’ said Harrington. ‘That collapse wasn’t natural there was something odd about it.’
‘Yes,’ said Roger dryly, ‘There are a lot of peculiar things in this
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