different one after
that, a very fine French razor which we were trying out at the time. Then, ah,
yes! There was poor Lord Blackfriars. A sad business that was. He married
one of these film-stars, and she ran through his money and went off with a dago
– you’l remember that, my lord. Blew his brains out, poor gentleman. He left
his pair of razors to his personal man, who wouldn’t part with them on any
account. Major Hartley had two and so did Colonel Belfridge. They’ve left
Town and gone to live in the country. I could give you their addresses. Sir John
Westlock – wel, now, I couldn’t say for certain about him. There was some
sort of trouble and he went abroad, at the time of the Megatherium Scandal.
Early in the twenties, wasn’t it? My memory isn’t what it was. He had a pair of
razors. Very fond of a good blade, he was, and looked after it very carefuly.
Mr Alec Baring – that was sad, too. They said it was in the family, but I always
thought that flying crash had something to do with it. I suppose they wouldn’t let
him have razors where he is now. He only had one of that set, as a replacement
for one he left in an hotel. How many does that make? Sixteen altogether, not
counting the dozen that went to Bombay. Wel, that’s nearly the lot, because I
gave a round half-dozen to my late head-assistant when we broke up the
business. He has an establishment of his own in Eastbourne, and is doing very
wel there, I’m told. Twenty-two. Now, what about the last pair?’
Mr Endicott scratched his head with a pained look.
‘Sometimes I think I’m beginning to fail a bit,’ he said, ‘though my handicap
is getting shorter and my wind’s as good as ever it was. Now, who did have
that pair of razors? Wel, there! Could it have been Sir Wiliam Jones? No, it
couldn’t. Or the Marquis of – ? No. Stop a minute. That was the pair Sir Harry
Ringwood bought for his son – young Mr Ringwood up at Magdalen Colege. I
knew I hadn’t seen them about. He had them in 1925, and the young gentleman
went out to British East Africa under the Colonial Office when he left the
University. There! I knew I should get it in time. That’s the lot, my lord.’
‘Endicott,’ said Lord Peter, ‘I think you’re marvelous. You’re the youngest
man of your age I ever struck, and I should like to meet your wine-merchant.’
Mr Endicott, gratified, pushed the decanter across the table and mentioned
the name of the vendor.
‘A lot of these people we can dismiss at once,’ said Lord Peter. ‘Colonel
Grimes is a problem – goodness knows what happened to the kit he left in
France, but I expect somebody out there got hold of it. The razor may have
returned to this country. He’s a possibility. Major Hartley and Colonel
Belfridge wil have to be traced. I shouldn’t think it would be Sir John
Westlock. If he was a careful sort of blighter, he probably took his razors with
him and cherished them. We’l have to inquire about poor Baring. His razor
may have been sold or given away. And we might just ask about young
Ringwood, though we can probably count him out. Then there’s your head-
assistant. Would he be likely to have sold any of them, do you think?’
‘Wel, no, my lord; I shouldn’t think he would. He told me that he should
keep them for his own use and for use on his own premises. He liked having the
old name on them, you see. But for sale to his customers, he would have his
razors marked with his own name. That has a certain value, you see, my lord.
It’s only if you’re in a good way of business and can order in razors in three-
dozen lots that you get your own name put on them. He started off very wel
with a new three dozen Kropp blades, for he told me al about it, and, things
being equal, those are what he would supply his customers with.’
‘Quite. Any likelihood of his seling the others second-hand?’
‘That,’ said Mr Endicott, ‘I could not say. There isn’t
that, a very fine French razor which we were trying out at the time. Then, ah,
yes! There was poor Lord Blackfriars. A sad business that was. He married
one of these film-stars, and she ran through his money and went off with a dago
– you’l remember that, my lord. Blew his brains out, poor gentleman. He left
his pair of razors to his personal man, who wouldn’t part with them on any
account. Major Hartley had two and so did Colonel Belfridge. They’ve left
Town and gone to live in the country. I could give you their addresses. Sir John
Westlock – wel, now, I couldn’t say for certain about him. There was some
sort of trouble and he went abroad, at the time of the Megatherium Scandal.
Early in the twenties, wasn’t it? My memory isn’t what it was. He had a pair of
razors. Very fond of a good blade, he was, and looked after it very carefuly.
Mr Alec Baring – that was sad, too. They said it was in the family, but I always
thought that flying crash had something to do with it. I suppose they wouldn’t let
him have razors where he is now. He only had one of that set, as a replacement
for one he left in an hotel. How many does that make? Sixteen altogether, not
counting the dozen that went to Bombay. Wel, that’s nearly the lot, because I
gave a round half-dozen to my late head-assistant when we broke up the
business. He has an establishment of his own in Eastbourne, and is doing very
wel there, I’m told. Twenty-two. Now, what about the last pair?’
Mr Endicott scratched his head with a pained look.
‘Sometimes I think I’m beginning to fail a bit,’ he said, ‘though my handicap
is getting shorter and my wind’s as good as ever it was. Now, who did have
that pair of razors? Wel, there! Could it have been Sir Wiliam Jones? No, it
couldn’t. Or the Marquis of – ? No. Stop a minute. That was the pair Sir Harry
Ringwood bought for his son – young Mr Ringwood up at Magdalen Colege. I
knew I hadn’t seen them about. He had them in 1925, and the young gentleman
went out to British East Africa under the Colonial Office when he left the
University. There! I knew I should get it in time. That’s the lot, my lord.’
‘Endicott,’ said Lord Peter, ‘I think you’re marvelous. You’re the youngest
man of your age I ever struck, and I should like to meet your wine-merchant.’
Mr Endicott, gratified, pushed the decanter across the table and mentioned
the name of the vendor.
‘A lot of these people we can dismiss at once,’ said Lord Peter. ‘Colonel
Grimes is a problem – goodness knows what happened to the kit he left in
France, but I expect somebody out there got hold of it. The razor may have
returned to this country. He’s a possibility. Major Hartley and Colonel
Belfridge wil have to be traced. I shouldn’t think it would be Sir John
Westlock. If he was a careful sort of blighter, he probably took his razors with
him and cherished them. We’l have to inquire about poor Baring. His razor
may have been sold or given away. And we might just ask about young
Ringwood, though we can probably count him out. Then there’s your head-
assistant. Would he be likely to have sold any of them, do you think?’
‘Wel, no, my lord; I shouldn’t think he would. He told me that he should
keep them for his own use and for use on his own premises. He liked having the
old name on them, you see. But for sale to his customers, he would have his
razors marked with his own name. That has a certain value, you see, my lord.
It’s only if you’re in a good way of business and can order in razors in three-
dozen lots that you get your own name put on them. He started off very wel
with a new three dozen Kropp blades, for he told me al about it, and, things
being equal, those are what he would supply his customers with.’
‘Quite. Any likelihood of his seling the others second-hand?’
‘That,’ said Mr Endicott, ‘I could not say. There isn’t
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