“You did sleep with your wife then, in spite of the necessity of preserving secrecy?” “Her maid knew. Used to go back to my room in the early morning. Beastly hole-and-corner business, but no alternative.” “And only Stanworth’s death could have freed you, so to speak?” Roger mused. “Very opportune, wasn’t it?” “Very,” Jefferson replied laconically. “You think I forced him somehow to shoot himself, don’t you?” “Well, I—I——” Roger stammered, completely taken aback. Jefferson smiled grimly. “Knew you must have some comic idea in your head. Just seen what you’ve been driving at. Well, you can rest assured I didn’t. For the simple reason that nobody or no threats on earth could have made him do a thing like that. Why he did it, Heaven only knows. Complete mystery to me. Can’t fathom it. Thank God he did, though!” “You don’t think he might have been—murdered?” Roger suggested tentatively. “Murdered? How could he have been? Out of the question under the circumstances. Besides, he took jolly good care of that. I’d have murdered him myself before this—hundreds of times!—if I hadn’t known it would make things worse than before all round.” “Yes, I’ve heard about that. Kept the evidence addressed to the interested parties, didn’t he? I suppose everyone knew that?” “You bet they did. He rubbed it in. No, Stanworth never meant to be murdered. But my God, I had a fright when I saw him lying there dead and the safe locked.” “You were going to try and open it when I interrupted you yesterday morning, of course?” “Yes, properly caught out then,” Jefferson smiled ruefully. “But even if I’d found the keys, I didn’t know the combination. Lord, what a relief that note of his was. You know about that, I suppose?” “You got a note by the post before lunch, did you?” “That’s right. Saying he was going to kill himself. Rum business. Can’t explain it. Almost too good to be true. I feel another man.” “And so are a good many other people, I imagine,” Roger said softly. “And women, too. His activities were fairly widespread, weren’t they?” “Very, I believe. Never knew much about it, though. He kept all that sort of thing to himself.” “That butler now,” Roger hazarded. “He looks a pretty tough customer. I suppose Stanworth employed him as a sort of bodyguard?” “Yes, something like that. But I don’t know about ‘employed.’” “What do you mean?” “He was no more employed than I was. That is to say, we got a salary and we did our work, but it wasn’t a sort of employment either of us could leave.” Roger whistled softly. “Oho! So friend Graves was another victim, was he? What’s his story?” “Don’t know all the details, but Stanworth could have had that man hanged, I believe,” Jefferson said coolly. “Instead he preferred to use him as a sort of bodyguard, as you say.” “I see. Then Graves hadn’t much cause to love him either, I take it?” “If he hadn’t known what would happen afterwards, I wouldn’t have given Stanworth ten minutes of life in Graves’s presence.”