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’ome,” Innes pointed out. “An’ I can’t see any gentleman bein’ pleased ter entertain Weems in ’is ’ome, can you sir?”
    Pitt grinned. “No I can’t. You may as well know, the reason the powers that be are so concerned in this case is that our Mr. Weems indulged in a little blackmail as well. He had some very important connections, through a relative who was a servant, we are told.”
    “Well now.” Innes looked interested, and there was a flash of satisfaction in his sharp, intelligent face. “I was wondering, but I thought as maybe you wasn’t able ter say. We don’t usually get cases like this taken from us. After all, who cares about one usurer more or less? But a blackmailer is different. You reckon it were someone ’E ’ad the squeeze on as shot ’im?”
    “I hope not. It’s going to be very embarrassing if it is,” Pitt said with sudden vehemence. “But it’s certainly not impossible.”
    “An’ I suppose you can’t say as who it is?”
    “Not unless I have to.”
    “Thought so.” Innes was quite resigned and there was no resentment in him. He knew he had been explained to as far as Pitt was permitted, perhaps further, and he appreciated that. “Either way, some things come ter mind,” he said thoughtfully. “It were someone as ’E weren’t frit of as was ’ere, an’ ’E should ’a bin frit out of ’is skin of someone important ’E ’ad the black on.”
    Pitt grinned. “Whoever it was, he should have been frit to death!” he said wryly.
    Innes flashed him a look of bright candor. “ ’Alf o’ me ’opes we don’t catch the poor beggar. I ’ate blackmailers even more than I ’ate moneylenders. Vermin all o’ them.”
    Pitt agreed tacitly. “Where was he?”
    “In the chair be’ind the desk, like ’E were talking ter someone, or takin’ money. ’E weren’t expectin’ it, that’s fer sure. Nothin’ upset, chair weren’t knocked over—”
    Pitt stared at the scene for several moments, trying to visualize the large, complacent Weems sitting back in his chair staring at whoever it was standing roughly where Pitt was now. He had almost certainly come prepared to kill. Hardly anyone possessed a gun, let alone carried one about withthem. Perhaps the meeting had been civil to begin with, then suddenly it had changed, either a quarrel, or else simply the visitor had reached the point where he no longer needed to pretend, and he had taken the gun from its concealment and fired it. Except what could conceal a gun large enough to fire that spray of shot?
    He looked around. All the drawers were closed, nothing was out of order, nothing crooked, nothing broken.
    As if reading his thoughts Innes shook his head.
    “If they searched they did it very careful,” he observed.
    “Have you looked yet?” Pitt asked.
    “Not yet. We went fer witnesses first. ’Oped someone might ’ave seen someone comin’ or goin’, but if they did they in’t sayin’.”
    “What about this errand runner—Miller?”
    “Nothin’ so far, but I’ll try again.”
    “Better keep at it, might turn up something. Meantime we’ll look. Weems’s papers might be interesting, not only for what they say, but for what they don’t.”
    “Reckon the murderer took ’is own records?” Innes said hopefully.
    “Seems a likely thing to do,” Pitt assented, opening the first drawer in the desk.
    Innes began on the cabinet nearest him and they worked systematically for over an hour. Innes found the general accounts full of names and addresses of local people, together with neatly written records of money borrowed and repayments made, with exorbitant interest, down to the last farthing, with dates and amounts all scrupulously noted, plus balance outstanding and the date on which it was due, and the ever increasing usury.
    There were also the ordinary accounts of his daily household expenses, purchases and investments, which were considerable.
    It was Pitt who found the other list of names and