"I fear it looks like it."
"An unpleasant conclusion for you to come to," observed Mr. Carrington. "You are the family lawyer, I understand."
"Very unpleasant," Mr. Rattar agreed. "But, of course, there is no absolute proof."
"Naturally; or they'd have been arrested by now. What sort of a fellow is Sir Malcolm?"
"My own experience of him," said the lawyer drily, "is chiefly confined to his visits to my office to borrow money of me."
"Indeed?" said Carrington with interest. "That sort of fellow, is he? He writes, I understand."
Simon nodded.
"Any other known vices?"
"I know little about his vices except that they cost him considerably more than he could possibly have paid, had it not been for Sir Reginald's death."
"So the motive is plain enough. Any evidence against him?"
Simon pursed his lips and became exceedingly grave.
"When questioned next morning by the superintendent of police and myself, he led us to understand that he had retired to bed early and was in no position to hear or notice anything. I have since found that he was in the habit of sitting up late."
"'In the habit,'" repeated Carrington quickly.
