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But I suppose they're both pretty hard up," Craddock murmured.
He sustained Mr. Wimborne's sharp glance with perfect impassively.
"Oh! So the police have been making inquiries? Yes, Alfred is almost incessantly in low water. Occasionally he is very flush of money for a short time - but it soon goes. Harold, as you seem to have discovered, is at present somewhat precariously situated."
"In spite of his appearance of financial prosperity?"
"Fa?ade. All fa?ade! Half these city concerns don't even know if they're solvent or not. Balance sheets can be made to look all right to the inexpert eye. But when the assets that are listed aren't really assets - when those assets are trembling on the brink of a crash - where are you?"
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"Where, presumably, Harold Crackenthorpe is, in bad need of money."
"Well, he wouldn't have got it by strangling his late brother's widow," said Mr. Wimborne. "And nobody's murdered Luther Crackenthorpe which is the only murder that would do the family any good. So, really, Inspector, I don't quite see where your ideas are leading you?"
The worst of it was, Inspector Craddock thought, that he wasn't very sure himself.