"Angus Herries. I am innocent," said the accused man hurriedly, then, anxious to exculpate himself, he talked on vehemently, and thereby did the worst thing possible. "I do not know the dead man's name, or the man himself. I have never seen him. I was fast asleep all the time. I found the razor, and----"
"Stop," said the Inspector peremptorily, "anything you say now will be used in evidence against you. Hold your tongue, until I am ready to examine you, and follow me," and with that he turned his back to march out of the room.
Herries saw that it would be as well to be circumspect, and walked silently after the representative of the law. The official turned to the right and opened the door of the death room at which Narby was standing. This was the first time the Inspector had been inside, and he wanted Herries to be present to see what effect the sight of his supposed victim would have on his nerves. The young man was glad to enter. He wished to face the worst at once.
The room was similar to the other, bare, cold-looking, and sparingly furnished with the flotsam and jetsam of auction rooms. Everything seemed to be disordered, but the bedclothes were smoothed out, and thereon lay a stiff figure, covered with a sheet. The police officer turned down the sheet and beckoned Herries to approach. The very next moment the young man staggered back amazed.
"Great Heavens!" he gasped, thunderstruck, "it is Sir Simon Tedder!"
[CHAPTER III]
CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE
"Sir Simon Tedder!" Inspector Trent--as the red-faced official was called--relaxed his stiffness, so far as to display astonishment. "The millionaire, who made his fortune out of jam and pickles; who has a house at Tarhaven?"
"Yes!" faltered Herries weakly, and sinking into a chair near the door, he covered his shameful face. Trent, seeing tears trickling between the nerveless fingers, felt convinced, with the assurance of the shortsighted, that his experiment had proved successful. The guilty man's self-control had given way at the sight of his victim. So thought a jack-in-office, who was unable to see farther than his nose by reason of natural and official limitations. But the truth was--and a medical man would have surmised it--that Herries, with his long tramp, his weakened frame, his despairing outlook, and the surprising sight of his relative lying dead by violence, suddenly became as unstrung as an hysterical woman. The tears relieved him, and had they not broken forth, he would have become insane at the mere thought of this terrible disaster falling upon him, after years and years of cruel misfortune. He felt, and very naturally, like a tormented rat in a trap, and could see no means of escape.
"Sir Simon Tedder," repeated Trent, with a gratified glance at the still white face of the dead, "the millionaire," he rolled the agreeable word on his tongue. "This will be an important affair!" and throwing out his chest, he swelled with triumph at the thought of the fame and praise which so notorious a case would bring him. "Why did you kill him, young man?"