like. He introduced the stocky, well-groomed man of forty-five who stood beside him. "This is Gordon Kendall, my lawyer—Dudley Drake, my nephew. And now let's hear what's up." Kendall was attorney for Drake and Porter and one of the best and most expensive lawyers in New York.
The three took chairs and Dudley gave a carefully expurgated version of the shooting. At the end he saw that the lawyer, who had been regarding him with cold, shrewd eyes all through his recital, was far from satisfied.
Gordon Kendall cleared his throat. "The first thing to be done between lawyer and client in a case of this kind is to establish an absolutely frank understanding. There never was a man shot in the world without a motive, unless it was pure accident, and you admit it wasn't accident in this case. You simply say you went to Prince Rao-Singh's study and shot him because you hated him. Why? Your uncle tells me that you were unusually fortunate in business yesterday and you left early to tell your wife the good news. Did you find something amiss at home? Why did you leave what must have been an extremely happy meeting with Mrs. Drake to invade this Hindu's property and shoot him?"
But Dudley insisted stubbornly that he had told the whole story. He had resolved not to
