"This was two years ago?" said Mr. Flexen.
"Yes," said Helena. "But stupidly, though I had the house properly made over to me, I didn't have a deed about the allowance. And a few days before he committed suicide—"
"Committed suicide?" Mr. Flexen interrupted.
"Of course he committed suicide. Didn't Dr. Thornhill say that the wound might have been self-inflicted? Besides, poor Egbert had a most frightful temper."
"But why should he commit suicide?" said Mr. Flexen.
"He may have been upset about Lady Loudwater and Colonel Grey. Why, I'm quite sure that it would drive him mad—absolutely mad for the time being. I know him well enough to be sure of that."
"Yes—yes," said Mr. Flexen slowly. "It's a tenable theory, doubtless.But about your quarrel with him."
"A few days before he died he talked about halving my allowance. And, of course, I was frightfully annoyed about it. I wanted to have it out with him—I meant to—but I knew that he'd never let me get near him, if he could help it. But I knew, too, that he sat in the smoking-room every evening after dinner, and generally went to sleep. You know everything about every one in the country, you know. And I determined to take him by surprise, and I did. We did have a row, for I was frightfully angry. It seemed so mean. But he stopped it by telling me that he had instructed his bankers—we have the same bankers—to pay twelve thousand pounds into my account instead of allowing me six hundred a year."
There was just the faintest change in her voice as she spoke the last sentence, and it did not escape Mr. Flexen's sensitive ear. He thought that the whole story had been rehearsed; it sounded so. But she spoke the last sentence just a little more quickly. The rest of the story rang true, or, at any rate, truer.
"Twelve thousand pounds," he said slowly. "And did Lord Loudwater tell you when he instructed his bankers?"
"No. But it must have been that very day. The letter must have been in the post, in fact, for two mornings later I received a letter from the bank telling me that they had credited me with that amount—the morning after the inquest, I think it was."
"I see," said Mr. Flexen, and he paused, considering the story. Then he said: "And were you surprised at all at his doing this?"
"Yes, I was," she said frankly. "It didn't seem like him. But since I've wondered whether he had made up his mind to commit suicide and wished to leave things quite straight."
It was a plausible theory, but Mr. Flexen did not believe that LordLoudwater had committed suicide.
"I suppose that your husband knows all about it?" he said at random.
"He may, and he may not. He hasn't said anything to me about it," she said.
"Then we may take it that he did not write the letter of instruction to the bankers," said Mr. Flexen.
"Oh, he might have done and still have said nothing about it. He has a very sensitive delicacy and might have thought it my business and not his. I haven't told him about the twelve thousand pounds yet. I don't bother him about business matters. In fact, I'm going to manage his business as well as my own."
"And he didn't know about the allowance?" said Mr. Flexen.
"Oh, yes, he did. I told him all about that," said Helena quickly.
Mr. Flexen paused, considering. He seemed to have learnt from her all she had to tell.
There came the sound of the opening of the door of the flat and of steps in the hall. Then the door of the room opened, and Mr. Manley came in. Mr. Flexen's eyes swept over him. He was looking cheerful, prosperous, and rather sleek. His air had grown even more important and assured.
He greeted Mr. Flexen warmly and beamed on him. Then he demanded tea. ButMr. Flexen rose, declared that he must be going, and in spite of Mr.Manley's protests went. It had flashed on him that he might just catchMr. Carrington at his office.
Mr. Flexen did find Mr. Carrington at his office, and Mr. Carrington's first words were:
"Well, have you found the mysterious woman?"
"I've found the mysterious woman, and she's now Mrs. Herbert Manley," said Mr. Flexen.
Mr. Carrington stared at him, then he said softly: "Well, I'm damned!"
"It does explain several things," said Mr. Flexen dryly. "We know now why she was so hard to find—why there was no trace of her relations with Lord Loudwater, no trace of Shepherd's managing the Low Wycombe property among his papers, why there were no pass-books."
Mr. Carrington flushed and said: "The young scoundrel had us on toast all the while."
"Toast is the word," said Mr. Flexen.
"I never did like the beggar. I couldn't stand his infernal manner. But it never occurred to me that he was a bad hat. I merely thought him a pretentious young ass who didn't know his place," said Mr. Carrington.
"I'm not so sure about the ass," said Mr. Flexen.
"No—perhaps not. He certainly brought it off for a time, and shielded her as long as it lasted," said Mr. Carrington slowly.
"She didn't need any shielding," said Mr. Flexen.
"Do you mean to tell me that she didn't murder Loudwater?"
"She did not. You don't murder a man who has just given you twelve thousand pounds," said Mr. Flexen.
"Twelve thousand pounds?" said Mr. Carrington slowly. Then he started from his chair and almost howled: "Are you telling me that Lord Loudwater gave this woman twelve thousand pounds! He never gave any one twelve thousand pounds! He never gave any one a thousand pounds! He never gave any one fifty pounds! He couldn't have done it! Never in his life!"
His voice rose in a fine crescendo.
"Well, perhaps it was hardly a gift," said Mr. Flexen, and he told himHelena's story.
At the end of it Mr. Carrington said with dogged, sullen conviction: "I don't care, I don't believe it. Lord Loudwater couldn't have done it."
"But there's the letter from her bankers," said Mr. Flexen. "And I suppose you can trace the twelve thousand pounds."
Mr. Carrington started and said sharply: "Why, that must be where the rubber shares went to."
"What rubber shares?" said Mr. Flexen.
"We can't lay our hands on a block of rubber shares Lord Loudwater owned.The certificate isn't among his scrip—he kept all his scrip at theCastle—he wouldn't keep it at his bank. Those rubber shares were worthjust about twelve thousand pounds."
"Well, there you are," said Mr. Flexen.
"No, I'm not, I tell you I don't believe in that gift—not even in the circumstances. Lord Loudwater would a thousand times rather have gone on paying the allowance—as little of it as he could. There's something fishy—very fishy—about it, I tell you," said Mr. Carrington vehemently.
"And where did the fishiness come in?" said Mr. Flexen.
Mr. Carrington was silent, frowning. Then he said: "I'll—I'll be hanged if I can see."
Mr. Flexen rose sharply and said: "There's only one point in the affair where it could have come in as far as I can see. I should like to examine Lord Loudwater's letter of instruction to his bankers."
"By George! You've got it," said Mr. Carrington.
"Well, can we get a look at it?" said Mr. Flexen.
"We can. Harrison, the manager, will stretch a point for me. He knows that I'm quite safe. Come along," said Mr. Carrington.
"At this hour? The bank's been closed this two hours," said Flexen.
"He'll be there. It's years since he got away before seven," said Mr.Carrington confidently.
He told a clerk to telephone to the bank that he was coming. They found a taxicab quickly, drove to the bank, entered it by the side door, and were taken straight to Mr. Harrison.
He made no bones about showing them Lord Loudwater's letter of instructions with regard to the twelve thousand pounds. Mr. Carrington and Mr. Flexen read it together. It was quite short, and ran:
"I shall be much obliged by your paying the enclosed cheque from Messrs.Hanbury and Johnson for £12,046 into the account of Mrs. Helena Truslove.
"Yours faithfully,
"Rather a curt way of disposing of such a large sum," said Mr. Flexen, taking the letter and going to the window.
"It was the way Lord Loudwater did things," said Mr. Harrison.
"Yes, yes; I know," said Mr. Carrington. "Some things."
They both looked at Mr. Flexen, who was examining the letter through a magnifying glass.
He studied it for a good two minutes, turned to them with a quiet smile of triumph on his face and said: "I've never seen Lord Loudwater's signature. But this is a forgery."
"A forgery?" said the manager sharply, stepping quickly towards Mr.Flexen with outstretched hand.
"I'm not surprised to hear it," said Mr. Carrington.
"Well, the signature is not written with the natural ease with which a man signs his name," said Mr. Flexen, giving the letter to Mr. Harrison.
Mr. Harrison studied it carefully. Then he pressed a button on his desk and bade the clerk who came bring all the letters they had received from Lord Loudwater during the last three months of his life and bring them quickly.
Then he turned to Mr. Flexen and said stiffly: "I'm bound to say that the signature looks perfectly right to me."
"I've no doubt that it's a good forgery. It was done by a very clever man," said Mr. Flexen.
"A first-class young scoundrel," Mr. Carrington amended.
"We shall soon see," said Mr. Harrison, politely incredulous.
The clerk came with the letters. There were eight of them, all written by Mr. Manley and signed by Lord Loudwater.
The manager compared the signatures of every one of them with the signature in question, using a magnifying glass which lay on his desk.
Then, triumphant in his turn, he said curtly: "It's no forgery."
"Allow me," said Mr. Flexen, and in his turn he compared the signatures, again every one of them.
Then he said: "As I said, it's an uncommonly good forgery. You see that the bodies of the letters are all written with the same pen, a gold-nibbed fountain-pen; the signatures are written with a steel nib. It cuts deeper into the paper, and the ink doesn't flow off it so evenly. The forged signature is written with the same kind of nib as the genuine ones. Also, the bodies of the letters are written in a fountain-pen ink—the 'Swan,' I think. The signatures are written in Stephens' blue-black ink. The forged signature is also written in Stephens' blue-black ink. No error there, you see."
"You seem to know a good deal about these things," said Mr. Harrison, rather tartly.
"Yes. I've been a partner in Punchard's Agency—you know it; we've done some work for you—for the last two years. I didn't need this kind of knowledge for my work in India. I only made a special study of forgery after joining the agency. A private inquiry agency gets such a lot of it," said Mr. Flexen.
"Well, and if there's an error in these details, where is it? It's not in the signature itself," said Mr. Harrison.
"Indeed, it is," said Mr. Flexen. "It's an uncommonly good signature too. The 'Loud' is perfect. But the 'water' gives it away. The forger had evidently practised it a lot. In fact, he wrote the 'Loud' straight off. But the 'water' has no less than five distinct pauses in it—under the microscope, of course—where he paused to think, or perhaps to look at a genuine signature, the endorsement on the cheque very likely."
Mr. Harrison sniffed ever so faintly, and said: "Of course, I've had experience of handwriting experts—not very much, thank goodness!—and you differ among yourselves so. It's any odds that another expert will find those pauses in quite different places from you, or even no pauses at all."
Mr. Flexen laughed gently and said: "Perhaps. But he ought not to."
"There you are. And when it comes to a jury," said Mr. Harrison, and he threw out his hands. "Besides, if you got your experts to agree, you'd have to show a very strong motive."
"Oh, we've got that—we've got that," said Mr. Carrington with conviction.
"Well, of course that will make it easier for you to get the jury to believe your handwriting experts rather than those of the other side," said Mr. Harrison, without any enthusiasm. Then he added, with rather more cheerfulness: "But you never can tell with a jury."
"No; that's true," said Mr. Flexen quickly. "I'm sure we're very much obliged to you for showing us the letter."
There was nothing more to be done at the bank, and having again thanked Mr. Harrison, they took their leave of him. He showed no great cordiality in his leave-taking, he was looking at the matter from the point of view of the bank. The bank preferred to detect forgeries itself—in time.
As they came into the street, Mr. Carrington rubbed his hands together and said in a tone of deep satisfaction: "And now for the warrant."
"Warrant for whom?" said Mr. Flexen in a tone of polite inquiry.
"Manley. The sooner that young scoundrel is in gaol the better I shall feel," said Mr. Carrington.
"So should I," said Mr. Flexen. "But I'm very much afraid that for Mr. Manley it's a far cry to Holloway. We have no case against him whatever—not a scrap of a case that I can see."
"Hang it all! It's as plain as a pikestaff! He's engaged to this woman—this Mrs. Truslove—who has a nice little income. He hears that her income is to be halved; and we know that if an allowance begins by being halved, as likely as not it will be stopped altogether before long. He saw that clearly enough. Then in the very nick of time this cheque comes along. He sends it to the bank with this letter of instructions, and murders Lord Loudwater so that he cannot disavow them. What more of a case do you want?"
"I don't want a better case. I only want some evidence. It's true enough that Mrs. Manley told me that she told Manley that Lord Loudwater proposed to halve her allowance. But where's the evidence that she talked to him about it? She'd deny it if you put her into the witness-box, and you can't put her into the witness-box."
"Husband and wife, by Jove! Oh, the clever young scoundrel!" cried Mr.Carrington.
"And that halving of the allowance is the beginning of the whole business. Manley had made up his mind to marry a lady with a fixed income—indeed, they were probably already engaged. Loudwater upsets the arrangement. Manley restores thestatus quoby means of this cheque and the murder of Loudwater. Of course, he hated Loudwater—he admitted as much to me—more than once. But if Loudwater had played fair about that allowance, he'd be alive now. Having established thestatus quo,Manley promptly marries the lady, and closes the mouth of the only person who can bear witness that the allowance was in danger and he had any motive for murdering Loudwater."
Mr. Carrington ground his teeth and murmured: "The infernal young scoundrel!" Then he broke out violently: "But we're not beaten yet. Now that we know for a fact that he murdered Loudwater and why, there must be some way of getting at him."
"I very much doubt it," said Flexen sadly. "He's an uncommonly able fellow. I don't believe that he's taken a chance. He wears a glove and leaves the knife in the wound, so that there are no bloodstains. And consider the cheque. The bank wouldn't have honoured Loudwater's own cheque, the cheque of a dead man, but the stock-broker's cheque goes through as a matter of course."
"Of course," said Mr. Carrington.
"And he has kept the business so entirely in his own hands. If we had run in any one else, he'd have come forward and sworn that he heard Loudwater snore after Roper had seen that person leave the Castle. I'm beginning to think that he's one of the most able murderers I ever heard of. I certainly never came across one in my own experience who was a patch on him," said Mr. Flexen.
"Don't be in such a hurry to lose hope. There must be some way of getting at him—there must be," said Mr. Carrington obstinately.
"I'm glad to hear it," said Mr. Flexen in a tone of utter scepticism.
They walked on, Mr. Flexen reflecting on Mr. Manley's ability, Mr. Carrington cudgelling his brains for a method of bringing his crime home to him. At the door of his office Mr. Flexen held out his hand.
"Come along in. I've got an idea," said Mr. Carrington.
Mr. Flexen shrugged his shoulders with a sceptical air. He had not formed a high opinion of Mr. Carrington's intelligence. However, he followed him into his office and sat down, ready to give him his best attention.
Mr. Carrington wore a really hopeful expression, and he said: "My idea is that we should get at Manley through Mrs. Manley."
"I'm not at all keen on getting at a man through his wife," said Mr. Flexen rather dolefully. "But in this case it's manifestly our duty to leave nothing untried. Murder for money is murder for money."
"I should think itwasour duty!" cried Mr. Carrington with emphasis.
"And there are three innocent people under suspicion of having committed the murder. Fire away. How is it to be done?" said Mr. Flexen.
"The new Lord Loudwater must bring an action against Mrs. Manley for the return of that twelve thousand pounds on the ground that it was obtained from the late Lord Loudwater by fraud—as it certainly was," said Mr. Carrington, leaning forward with shining eyes and speaking very distinctly.
"I see," said Mr. Flexen. But his expression was not hopeful.
"Once we get her in the witness-box we establish the fact that LordLoudwater had made up his mind to halve her allowance, for she'll have togive the reason for her visiting him so late that night; and so we getManley's motive for committing the murder also established."
"I see. But will you be able to use her evidence in the first trial at the second?" said Mr. Flexen doubtfully.
"That's the idea," said Mr. Carrington triumphantly.
"You think it can be worked?"
"We can have a jolly good try at it," said Mr. Carrington, rubbing his hands together, and his square, massive face was rather malignant in its triumph.
Mr. Flexen did not look triumphant, or even hopeful.
"But will you get the new Lord Loudwater to bring this action?" he said.
"Why, of course. There's the money for one thing, and when he sees how important it is from the point of view of getting at Manley, he can't refuse," said Mr. Carrington confidently.
"There isn't the money—not necessarily. He might get back the twelve thousand pounds and have to pay Mrs. Manley six hundred a year for forty or fifty years. She's a healthy-looking woman," said Mr. Flexen. "I take it that the late Lord Loudwater had property of his own against which she could claim."
"Oh, of course, she could do that," said Mr. Carrington, and there was some diminution of the triumphant expression.
"She would," said Mr. Flexen. "Then you'll have to get over his objection to incurring a considerable amount of odium. It will look bad for a man of his wealth to try to recover from a lady a sum of money to which every one will consider her entitled."
"Oh, but it was obtained by fraud," said Mr. Carrington.
"If you were sure of proving that, it would make a difference in the way people would regard it. But you're not sure of proving it—not by a long chalk. And you can't assure your client that you are. There'll be a lot of conflicting evidence about that signature, as Harrison pretty clearly showed. If you don't prove it, your client will be landed with the costs of the case and incur still greater odium."
"Ah, but he is bound to take the risk to bring his cousin's murderer to justice," said Mr. Carrington.
"Is he?" said Flexen dryly. "What kind of terms was he on with his murdered cousin?"
"Well, I must say I didn't expect you to ask that question," said Mr. Carrington pettishly. "What kind of terms was the late Lord Loudwater likely to be on with his heir? They hated one another like poison."
"I thought as much," said Mr. Flexen. "And what kind of a man is the new man—anything like his dead cousin?"
"Oh, well, all the Loudwaters are pretty much of a muchness. But the present man is a better man all round—better manners and better brains," said Mr. Carrington.
"Better brains, and you think he'll be willing to celebrate his succession to the peerage by a first-class scandal of this kind, a scandal which may bring him this money, but which will certainly bring odium on him?" said Mr. Flexen.
"When it's a case of bringing a murderer to justice," said Mr. Carrington obstinately.
"The murderer of a man he hated like poison? I should think that he'd want to see his way pretty clear. And it isn't clear—not by any means. For there's precious little chance of Mrs. Manley's giving Lord Loudwater's threat to halve her allowance as the reason of her visit to him that night. In fact, there's no chance at all. Manley will see to that. Once attack the genuineness of that signature, and you open his eyes to his danger. She'll come into the witness-box with quite another reason for that visit, and a good reason too. Manley will find it for her," said Mr. Flexen with conviction. "But there's the quarrel. She can't get over that quarrel," said Mr. Carrington stubbornly.
"She'll deny the quarrel. It's only Mrs. Carruthers' word against hers.Besides, Mrs. Carruthers heard what she did hear through a closed door.It will be so easy to make out that she made a mistake."
"You seem to take it for granted that Mrs. Manley will commit perjury at that young scoundrel's bidding," snapped Mr. Carrington.
"I take it for granted that she'll be a woman fighting to save her husband. And I'm also sure that there'll be precious few mistakes in tactics made in the fight. I think that all you'll get out of the trial will be a strong presumption that Lord Loudwater committed suicide. I'd bet that that is the line Manley will take. And she'll make a thundering good witness for him. She's a good-looking woman, with plenty of intelligence."
Mr. Carrington gazed at him with unhappy eyes. His square, massive face had lost utterly its expression of triumph.
"But hang it all!" he cried. "What are we going to do? Knowing what we know, we can't sit still and do nothing."
"I can't seeanythingwe can do," said Mr. Flexen frankly, and he rose."You have demonstrated that Manley's position is impregnable."
He took his leave of the dejected lawyer.
Outside Mr. Carrington's office he stood still, hesitating. He could have caught a train back to Low Wycombe, but he could not bring himself to take it. He could not at once tear himself away from London and Mr. Manley. He must sleep on the new facts in the Loudwater case. He went to his club, engaged a bedroom, and dined there.
Mr. and Mrs. Manley dined at their flat. Mr. Manley talked during dinner with elegance and vivacity. The maid brought in the coffee and went back to the kitchen.
As he lighted his wife's cigarette, Mr. Manley said in a careless tone:"What did Flexen want to see you about?"
Helena gave him a full account of her interview with Mr. Flexen, his questions and her answers.
"I guessed that you were theDaily Wire'smysterious woman," he said. "I saw how frightened you were when it came out. But, of course, as you didn't say anything about it, I didn't."
"That is so like you," she murmured.
"One human being should never intrude on another," said Mr. Manley with a noble air.
"It might be your motto," she said, looking at him with admiring eyes. She paused; then she added: "And I was frightened—horribly frightened. I couldn't sleep. I was going to tell you about it, but I didn't like to. You gave me no opening. Then the letter came from my bankers—about the twelve thousand pounds—and it made it all right. It made it clear that I had no reason to murder Loudwater."
"Of course," said Mr. Manley. "But in the event of any new developments, I should not admit that Lord Loudwater talked of halving your allowance, or that you quarrelled with him. In fact, I shouldn't let Flexen interview you again at all. In an affair of this kind you can't be too careful."
"I won't let him interview me again," said Helena with decision.
Mr. Flexen did not try to interview her again. But at eleven the next morning he called on Mr. Manley. He had very little hope of effecting anything by the call, though he meant to try. But he had the keenest desire to scrutinize him again and carefully in the light of the new facts he had discovered.
Mr. Manley kept him waiting awhile in the drawing-room; then the maid ushered him into Mr. Manley's study. Mr. Manley was sitting at a table, at work on his play. He greeted Mr. Flexen with a rather absent-minded air.
Mr. Flexen surveyed him with very intent, measuring eyes. At once he perceived that he had rather missed Mr. Manley's jaw in giving attention to his admirable forehead. It was, indeed, the jaw of a brute. He could see him drive the knife into Lord Loudwater, and walk out of the smoking-room with an ugly, contented smile on his face.
He had little hopes of bringing off anything in the nature of a bluff; but he said, in a rasping tone: "We've discovered that the signature of Lord Loudwater's letter of instructions to his bankers to pay that cheque for twelve thousand pounds into your wife's account was forged."
Mr. Manley looked at him blankly for a moment. There was no expression at all on his face. Then it filled slowly with an expression of surprise.
"Rehearsed, by Jove!" murmured Mr. Flexen under his breath, and he could not help admiring the skilful management of that expression of surprise. It was so unhasty and natural.
"My dear fellow, what on earth are you driving at? I saw him write it myself," said Mr. Manley in an indulgent tone.
"You forged it," snapped Mr. Flexen.
Mr. Manley looked at him with a new surprise which changed slowly to pity. Then he said in such a tone as one might use to an unreasonable child: "My good chap, what on earth should I forge itfor?"
"You knew that he was going to halve Mrs. Truslove's allowance. You were bent on marrying a woman with money. You took this way of ensuring that she had money, forged the letter, and murdered Lord Loudwater," said Mr. Flexen on a rising inflexion.
"By Jove! I see what you're after. It shows how infernally silly a schoolboy joke can be! Lord Loudwater never talked of halving my wife's allowance. That was an invention of mine. I told her that he was doing so just to tease her," said Mr. Manley firmly, with a note of contrition in his voice.
Mr. Flexen opened his mouth a little way. It was a superb invention. It left Mrs. Manley free to go into the witness-box to tell the story she had told him. It knocked the bottom clean out of Carrington's case.
"What really happened was that Lord Loudwater was grousing about the allowance—at being reminded every six months that he had behaved like a cad. I suggested that he should pay her a lump sum and be done with the business. He jumped at the idea. The cheque had come from his stockbrokers that morning; he directed me to write that letter of instructions to his bankers; I wrote it, and he signed it. There you have the whole business."
"I don't believe a word of it!" cried Mr. Flexen.
Mr. Manley rose with an air of great dignity and said: "My good chap, I can excuse your temper. It was an ingenious theory, and it must be very annoying to have it upset. But I'm fed up with this Loudwater business. I've got here"—he tapped the manuscript on the table—"a drama worth fifty of it. Out of working hours I don't mind talking that affair over with you; in them I won't."
Mr. Flexen rose and said: "You're undoubtedly the most accomplished scoundrel I've ever come across."
"If you will have it so," said Mr. Manley patiently. Then he smiled and added: "Praise from an expert—"
They turned to see Mrs. Manley standing in the doorway, her lips parted, her eyes dilated in a growing consternation.
She stepped forward. Mr. Flexen slipped round her and fairly fled.
She looked at Mr. Manley with horror-stricken eyes and said: "What—what did he mean, Herbert?"
"He meant what he said. But what it really means is that I won't let him hang that wretched James Hutchings," said Mr. Manley with a noble air.
* * * * *
Three months later, on the first night of Mr. Manley's play, Colonel Grey came upon Mr. Flexen in the lounge of the Haymarket, between the second and third acts. Both of them praised the play warmly, and there came a pause.
Then Colonel Grey said: "I suppose you've given up all hope of solving the problem of Loudwater's death."
"Oh, I solved it three months ago. It was Manley," said Mr. Flexen.
"By Jove!" said Colonel Grey softly.
"Not a doubt of it. I'll tell you all about it one of these days," said Mr. Flexen, for the bell rang to warn them that the third act was about to begin.
In the corridor Colonel Grey said: "Queer that he should have dropped down dead in the street a week before this success."
"Well, he was discharged from the Army for having a bad heart. But it is a bit queer," said Mr. Flexen.
"The mills of God," said Colonel Grey.
"Looks like it," said Mr. Flexen.