Drawing him into the room, I shut the door. He surveyed me with indignation.
"My orders are that when there's no answer I'm not to wait."
"Good boy! Always obey orders."
The address on the envelope was typewritten; as were the sentences on the sheet of paper it contained.
"Because Edwin Lawrence is dead, don't suppose that the £1880 are paid. You have not hit on a new way to pay old debts. A knife in the back is not a quittance. You are wrong if you suppose it is. Have the money ready; hard cash—notes and gold; all gold preferred. NO CHEQUE. Edwin Lawrence has left an heir; to whom all that he had belongs, your debt among the rest. Be prepared to pay when asked. If the request has to be made a second time it will come in a different form.
That was what the envelope contained—an anonymous letter.
"Who sent this?"
"I don't know, I haven't read it."
"Possibly not; and yet you might know who was the sender."
"I don't see how. I'd just been on an errand
