Blick resumed his catalogue as if there had been no interruption.
“A gold watch, chain, and pendant locket,” he continued. “Various small matters, such as a penknife, keys, gold pencil-case. And a letter case, comparatively new, and a pocket-book, evidently old, each containing letters.”
“All these are in charge of the police, I suppose, Blick?”
“They are all in charge of the Chief Constable, with the exception of the letter-case and the pocket-book which I have here and now produce.”
Herewith Blick, diving into the inner breast pocket of his smart coat, brought out and held up a black morocco letter-case, and a faded green leather pocket-book.
“Have you examined the contents of those things?” asked the Coroner.
“Yes. The Chief Constable and I examined everything in them, carefully, on their discovery.”
“What do they contain?”
“This pocket-book contains seven letters, addressed to Sir Guy Markenmore, and all signed either Veronica or Nickie.”
“Are they all in the same handwriting?”