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critically at Carrington. His face was paper-white and he was swaying on his feet. ‘Sit down, Gerry.’ He walked over to the sideboard and picked up the whisky. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
    Carrington sank gratefully into a chair, resting his forehead on his hand. ‘Thanks. It’s been awful.’ He took the whisky and soda from Lewis. ‘I hoped you’d be here. I wanted to explain things. There aren’t any real excuses but I don’t know if my father’s responsible for his actions.’
    The sandy-haired man looked at him curiously. ‘Excuse me, Mr Carrington, but do you believe your father’s guilty? I’m Ragnall, by the way, Hugo Ragnall, Mr Otterbourne’s secretary.’
    Gerard Carrington spread his hands wide in a hopeless gesture. ‘He more or less has to be, doesn’t he?’ His mouth trembled. ‘He’s always had a shocking temper but there’s more to it than that. The last couple of years have been pretty grim. He got caught in a Zeppelin raid during the war and had to be pulled out of the rubble. That affected him very badly, but when my mother died he went to pieces. He simply couldn’t cope. If he doesn’t like something he just ignores it.’ He looked at Lewis. ‘I’ve told you something of this before. After my mother died it was as if she’d never existed, but every so often he’ll say something that proves he knows how things really are. It drives me up the wall. The police don’t know what to make of him. He’s not said anything at all for the last few hours. He didn’t seem to know I was in the room with him. I telephoned Sir David Hargreaves, his doctor, and he’s on his way. He might get him to talk but as soon as the police learn his medical history, I’m afraid they’ll simply shut him away.’
    ‘His medical history?’ asked Ragnall.
    ‘He’s always been unstable,’ said Carrington flatly. ‘It was my mother’s death that finally pushed him over the edge. He had a complete nervous breakdown. He had to give up his post at Cambridge and eventually there was nothing for it but for him to be admitted as a patient in a mental asylum. He was released a couple of years ago.’
    ‘A mental hospital?’ repeated Ragnall slowly. He shot a look at Lewis. ‘Maybe I’m wrong.’
    Lewis sucked his cheeks in. ‘It’s difficult, isn’t it?’ He hesitated. ‘Look, Gerry, I know things look black for your father, but there could be another explanation.’ He glanced at Ragnall. ‘That’s what we’ve been discussing.’ He drew a deep breath. ‘You tell him, Ragnall. It’s all to do with the firm’s pension fund.’
    Gerry Carrington listened in growing bewilderment and with many interjections. ‘But that doesn’t make any sense either,’ he said when Ragnall had finished. ‘Even if Mr Otterbourne had been dipping into the pension fund, surely that’s not such a big deal? It’s his firm, after all.’
    ‘It’s a very big deal,’ said Ragnall. ‘Mr Otterbourne might have thought of it as the firm’s money but it’s theft. The pension fund is made up of both voluntary savings and compulsory contributions from the workers. That money was invested safely, mainly in gilt-edged stock. Those stocks have been sold out and the capital has vanished.’
    ‘Do you see now, Gerry?’ asked Steve. ‘I tell you, he wouldn’t want to face the music. His reputation would be ruined and, for a man like him, that would be impossible to live with.’
    ‘I still don’t see it,’ said Gerry. ‘From what you’ve told me, Mr Otterbourne didn’t know you’d tumbled to it. Besides that, he wouldn’t discuss the firm’s affairs with my father. For one thing, the guv’nor wouldn’t have a clue what he was talking about.’
    ‘That’s true enough, Mr Carrington,’ said Ragnall, ‘but, as I understand it, your father stated he left the room. Mr Otterbourne could have easily have picked up the accounts and realized exactly what I’d found.’
    ‘I knew him well,’ said Steve