"I would have noticed between what pages his finger was inserted. Nothing like making yourself acquainted with every detail in a case like this."
Dr. Talbot gazed wistfully at the book. He would have liked to know himself on what especial passage his friend's eyes had last rested.
"I will stand aside," said he, "and hear your report when you are done."
The detective had already begun his investigations.
"Here is a spot of blood," said he. "See! on the right trouser leg of the one you call James. This connects him indisputably with the crime in which this dagger was used. No signs of violence on his body. She was the only one to receive a blow. His death is the result of God's providence."
"Or man's neglect," muttered the constable.
"There is no money in any of their pockets, or on either wasted figure," the detective continued, after a few minutes of silent search. "It must be hidden in the room, or—look through that Bible, sirs."
The coroner, glad of an opportunity to do something, took up the book, and ran hurriedly through its leaves, then turned it and shook it out over the table. Nothing fell out; the bills must be looked for elsewhere.
"The furniture is scanty," Abel observed, with an inquiring look about him.
"Very, very scanty," assented the constable, still with that biting remorse at his heart.