The Sittaford Mystery

‘Yes, Mr Narracott,’ she proceeded in answer to his question, ‘the Major is having his breakfast now. You will find him in the coffee-room. And what kind of a night he has passed with no pyjamas or anything, and me a widow woman with nothing to lend him, I can’t say, I am sure. Said it made no matter he did—all upset and queer he was—and no wonder with his best friend murdered. Very nice gentlemen the two of them, though the Captain had the reputation of being close with his money. Ah, well, well, I have always thought it dangerous to live up to Sittaford, miles away from anywhere, and here’s the Captain struck down in Exhampton itself. It’s always what you don’t expect in this life that happens, isn’t it, Mr Narracott?’

The Inspector said that undoubtedly it was. Then he added:

‘Who did you have staying here yesterday, Mrs Belling? Any strangers?’

‘Now let me see. There was Mr Moresby and Mr Jones—commercial gentlemen they are, and there was a young gentleman from London. Nobody else. It stands to reason there wouldn’t be this time of year. Very quiet here in the winter. Oh, and there was another young gentleman—arrived by the last train. Nosey young fellow I call him. He isn’t up yet.’

‘The last train?’ said the Inspector. ‘That gets in at ten o’clock, eh? I don’t think we need trouble ourselves about him. What about the other—the one from London? Did you know him?’

‘Never seen him before in my life. Not a commercial gentleman, oh, no—a cut above that. I can’t remember his name for the moment—but you’ll find it in the register. Left on the first train to Exeter this morning, he did. Six ten. Rather curious. What did he want down here anyway, that’s what I’d like to know.’

‘He didn’t mention his business?’

‘Not a word.’

‘Did he go out at all?’

‘Arrived at lunch time, went out about half past four and came in about twenty past six.’

‘Where did he go when he went out?’

‘I haven’t the remotest idea, sir. May have been just for a stroll like. That was before the snow came, but it wasn’t what you might call a pleasant day for walking.’

‘Went out at half past four and returned about twenty past six,’ said the Inspector thoughtfully. ‘That’s rather odd. He didn’t mention Captain Trevelyan?’

Mrs Belling shook her head decisively.

‘No, Mr Narracott, he didn’t mention anybody at all. Kept himself to himself he did. A nice looking young fellow—but worried, I should say.’

The Inspector nodded and stepped across to inspect the register.

‘James Pearson, London,’ said the Inspector. ‘Well—that doesn’t tell us much. We’ll have to make a few inquiries about Mr James Pearson.’

Then he strode off to the coffee-room in search of Major Burnaby.

The Major was the only occupant of the room. He was drinking some rather muddy-looking coffee and The Times was propped up in front of him.

‘Major Burnaby?’

‘That’s my name.’

‘I am Inspector Narracott from Exeter.’

‘Good morning, Inspector. Any forrarder?’

‘Yes, sir. I think we are a little forrarder. I think I can safely say that.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ said the Major drily. His attitude was one of resigned disbelief.

‘Now there are just one or two points I would like some information on, Major Burnaby,’ said the Inspector, ‘and I think you can probably tell me what I want to know.’

‘Do what I can,’ said Burnaby.

‘Had Captain Trevelyan any enemies to your knowledge?’

‘Not an enemy in the world.’ Burnaby was decisive.

‘This man, Evans—do you yourself consider him trustworthy?’

‘Should think so. Trevelyan trusted him, I know.’

‘There was no ill feeling about this marriage of his?’

‘Not ill feeling, no. Trevelyan was annoyed—didn’t like his habits upset. Old bachelor, you know.’

‘Talking of bachelors, that’s another point. Captain Trevelyan was unmarried—do you know if he made a will? And in the event of there being no will, have you any idea who would inherit his estate?’

‘Trevelyan made a will,’ said Burnaby promptly.

‘Ah—you know that.’

‘Yes. Made me executor. Told me so.’

‘Do you know how he left his money?’

‘That I can’t say.’

‘I understand he was very comfortably off?’

‘Trevelyan was a rich man,’ replied Burnaby. ‘I should say he was much better off than anyone around here suspected.’

‘What relations had he—do you know?’

‘He’d a sister and some nephews and nieces, I believe. Never saw much of any of them, but there was no quarrel.’

‘About this will, do you know where he kept it?’

‘It’s at Walters & Kirkwood—the solicitors here in Exhampton. They drew it up for him.’

‘Then perhaps, Major Burnaby, as you are executor, I wonder if you would come round to Walters & Kirkwood with me now. I should like to have an idea of the contents of that will as soon as possible.’

Burnaby looked up alertly.

‘What’s in the wind?’ he said. ‘What’s the will got to do with it?’

Inspector Narracott was not disposed to show his hand too soon.

‘The case isn’t such plain sailing as we thought,’ he said. ‘By the way, there’s another question I want to ask you. I understand, Major Burnaby, that you asked Dr Warren whether death had occurred at five and twenty minutes past five?’