He inferred that Hohlbein and Garth were high-priced lawyers.

He had lunch with Pauling. Promptly at one-thirty he entered Hohlbein and Garth's elegant suite of offices in Medfield's newest professional building.

He disliked Garth on sight, conservative clothes and haircut, smile a shade too earnestly boyish for a man who must be well into his thirties, handclasp too consciously quick and firm. Youngish man on the make, Madden labeled him, and was ready to guess that in a correct, not too pushing fashion, the junior partner of the firm had political ambitions; that Mrs. Garth would be impeccably suitable as the wife of a rising young lawyer; that there were three children, two boys and a girl; that she was active in the Woman's Club and he in Lions, Rotary, and Jaycee; and finally, that neither of them had harbored an unorthodox opinion since their wedding day.

Madden knew that he could be completely wrong about all this, but also knew that he would go right on disliking Garth.

Garth was prepared to be helpful in what he referred to with fastidious distaste as this unfortunate Johnston affair, which would not, he said more than once, have ever come about if Mrs. Meeker had only seen fit to consult Mr. Hohlbein or him about it.

Madden regretted not being able to find fault with so true a statement. He asked to see a copy of Mrs. Meeker's will.

Garth brought one out.

The date, October 8, 1957, immediately caught the inspector's eye. ``Fairly recent,'' he remarked. ``Was she in the habit of making new wills?''