that takes place here must necessarily be a case of foul play fraught with grave political significance. You’ve no idea the fuss he made. I’ve been hearing about it from Tredwell. Tested everything imaginable for fingerprints. And of course they only found the dead man’s own. The clearest case imaginable—though whether it was suicide or accident is another matter.”
“I met Gerry Wade once,” said Bundle. “He was a friend of Bill’s. You’d have liked him, Father, I never saw anyone more cheerfully inefficient than he was.”
“I don’t like anyone who comes and dies in my house on purpose to annoy me,” said Lord Caterham obstinately.
“But I certainly can’t imagine anyone murdering him,” continued Bundle. “The idea’s absurd.”
“Of course it is,” said Lord Caterham. “Or would be to anyone but an ass like Inspector Raglan.”
“I daresay looking for fingerprints made him feel important,” said Bundle soothingly. “Anyway, they brought it in ‘Death by misadventure,’ didn’t they?”
Lord Caterham acquiesced.
“They had to show some consideration for the sister’s feelings.”
“Was there a sister? I didn’t know.”
“Half-sister, I believe. She was much younger. Old Wade ran away with her mother—he was always doing that sort of thing. No woman appealed to him unless she belonged to another man.”
“I’m glad there’s one bad habit you haven’t got,” said Bundle.