“He told all this to Norton, and that was the start of the whole business.
Norton suggested that a spurious will could be placed in that envelope and substituted for the notes, and that’s what happened.
Howard Somers himself carried back to New York and placed among his private papers that bogus will, endorsed in his own hand ‘to be given to my son Walter in the event of my death.’
It was neat, when you think of it.”
“Neat, but wicked, Inspector!”
“Wrong, yes.
Still, you must remember that no murder was contemplated.
Fraud, yes, although Walter felt justifiable fraud, in a way.
But murder, never.
“So the comedy was staged, with the fifty thousand dollars to be this Norton’s share, his pay for that imposture, for the study he had made of Howard Somers’ signature, and for that bit of comedy where he lay in a bed in a low light, on a day selected because it was dark and gray, and feebly signed that spurious document.
“I haven’t been able to learn everything from Walter yet, but in that bit of comedy—and God knows it’s the only comedy there is—the Bassett woman in a nurse’s uniform played Sarah Gittings.
Walter had prepared for that by having her give massage treatments to his father.
And Norton was Mr. Somers.
I imagine that Norton was the man with the box of flowers the floor clerk remembered.
He had long gray hair, she said, and so Norton probably wore into the hotel that day the wig made to resemble Howard Somers’ hair.
“That flower box had flowers in it.
But it had some other things, make-up and silk pyjamas, a dressing gown, a few bottles and toilet articles to dress the room.
That’s a guess, but it’s pretty accurate.
“It was Walter’s room, anyhow.
But they locked off the door to the sitting room, and Walter told Sarah Gittings he was having some friends there for cocktails, and to ‘stay out.’
“Yes, it looked like a water-proof scheme.
The hotel manager himself brings Waite up, and Walter meets him in the hall.
Nobody thinks about that door.
The notary comes up on the second day and witnesses the signatures.
Florence Gunther is brought in from the hall.
When it is over the players go away, one at a time, by the service staircase.
“Only one thing slipped.
It was Sarah Gittings’ custom to go out for a breath of air, and Walter took her place.
But the two gray days with rain that were the best for their purpose, the twelfth and thirteenth of August, were bad days for her.
She did not go out.
She read a novel aloud to Mr. Somers instead, and put that on her record.
“Now let’s go on to this last spring, when Sarah met Florence Gunther.
She may have remembered seeing her at the Imperial, sitting in the hall, or it may have been pure accident.
It’s enough for us that they met, that Sarah told her she was with you, and as your connection with the Somers family is well known, that Florence finally mentioned the will.
“Sarah Gittings was incredulous, and after learning the date of the will, she went home and examined her records.
She saw then that no such will could have been drawn on those days, and she began to try to reach Mr. Blake.
She also finally induced Florence to abstract that copy from the safe, and on Monday the eighteenth of April she arranged to meet Mr. Blake at the Halkett Street house.
“She had already secreted the records in the wood cellar, but that evening she moved them to the cabinet.
She had learned the terms of the will that day, and she knew well enough that there had been fraud.
Also she knew about that secret compartment in the cabinet. When she took the will from Florence that afternoon she gave her the clock dial directions.
“But she felt safe enough.
She had no thought of danger that night, when she left the house.
“Now, I’m going to reconstruct that night of the eighteenth of April.
And you must remember that Walter Somers is still very weak, and that he himself can only guess at a part of it.
Chapter Thirty-two
“AT FIVE MINUTES PAST seven Sarah Gittings left this house, taking the dogs with her.
She had the will for safekeeping probably inside her shoe—there had been some purse-snatching in this neighborhood—and she carried in her bag the key to her room and the key to her front door; but she was excited that night, and she forgot to lock her bedroom door.
“She went out the door, and in the drive she found Walter Somers waiting for her.
He knew that she frequently took the dogs out at that hour, and this night he knew something else.
He knew through Norton, who had his own way of learning things, that she had met Florence that afternoon and received a longish legal envelope from her.