Herbert revealed himself as a pallid, dandyish man, punctiliously polite. Colourless—Dr. Newton hit him off to the life.
Herbert was very gratified to make Mr. Fortune's acquaintance.
"I don't know whether to hope you can throw any light on this miserable affair, sir?"
Reggie shook his head. "Your uncle was stabbed, and died immediately of the wounds. That is the whole case, Mr. Charlecote. I suppose you can't help us?"
"I am bewildered. Quite dazed, Mr. Fortune."
Reggie nodded and lingered, and Herbert discreetly left him with the solicitor.
"Well, Mr. Fortune?" Sir Thomas took off his glasses and pursed his lips
"Nothing. Well, Sir Thomas?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Ah. That was a little odd, wasn't it?" Reggie nodded at the door by which Herbert had gone out.
"Mr. Herbert Charlecote offered to help me. He used to act as his uncle's secretary. It was hardly for me to point out that there might be objections, if he was afraid of none."
"Does he know of the new will?"
"Neither he nor his cousin Geoffrey. Mr. Herbert, I infer, believes himself sole heir, and Mr. Geoffrey believes himself disinherited."
