“Yes?” he said inquiringly and yet with a certain tone of command. “Now tell me all you know of this.”
He stood listening silently, with concentrated attention, as the inspector put him in possession of the facts already known. He made no comment, asked no questions, until the inspector had finished; then he turned to Selwood, almost pointedly ignoring Mr. Tertius.
“What is known of this in Portman Square, Mr. Selwood?” he inquired. “Tell me, briefly.”
Selwood, who had only met Barthorpe Herapath once or twice, and who had formed an instinctive and peculiar dislike to him, for which he could not account, accepted the invitation to be brief. In a few words he told exactly what had happened at Jacob Herapath’s house.
“My cousin is here, then?” exclaimed Barthorpe.
“Miss Wynne is in the larger waiting-room down the corridor,” replied Selwood.
“I will go to her in a minute,” said Barthorpe. “Now, inspector, there are certain things to be done at once. There will, of course, have to be an inquest—your people must give immediate notice to the coroner. Then—the body—that must be properly attended to—that, too, you will see about. Before you go away yourself, I want you to join me in collecting all the evidence we can get on the spot. You have one of your detective staff here?—good. Now, have you searched—him?”
The inspector drew open a drawer in the front desk which occupied the centre of the room, and pointed to some articles which lay within.
“Everything that we found upon him is in there,” he answered. “You see there is not much—watch and chain, pocket articles, a purse, some loose money, a pocket-book, a cigar-case—that’s all. One matter I should have expected to find, we didn’t find.”
“What’s that?” asked Barthorpe quickly.