“Mr. Duke, sir? I am Inspector French of the Criminal Investigation Department of New Scotland Yard. I very much regret to confirm the news which you have already heard, that your head clerk, Mr. Gething, has been murdered, and I fear also that your safe may have been burgled.”
It was evident that the old gentleman was experiencing strong emotion, but he controlled it and spoke quietly enough.
“This is terrible news, Inspector. I can hardly believe that poor old Gething is gone. I came at once when I heard. Tell me the details. Where did it happen?”
French pointed to the open door.
“In here, sir, in your private office. Everything is still exactly as it was found.”
Mr. Duke moved forward, then on seeing the body, stopped and gave a low cry of horror.
“Oh, poor old fellow!” he exclaimed. “It’s awful to see him lying there. Awful! I tell you, Inspector, I’ve lost a real friend, loyal and true and dependable. Can’t he be lifted up? I can’t bear to see him like that.” His gaze passed on to the safe. “And the safe! Merciful heavens, Inspector! Is anything gone? Tell me at once, I must know! It seems heartless to think of such a thing with that good old fellow lying there, but after all I’m only human.”
“I haven’t touched the safe, but we’ll do so directly,” the Inspector answered. “Was there much in it?”
“About three-and-thirty thousand pounds’ worth of diamonds were in that lower drawer, as well as a thousand in notes,” groaned the other. “Get the body moved, will you, and let us look.”
French whistled, then he turned to his men.