Britz applied himself to the documents, his eyes racing through them in futile search of something that might shed a welcome illumination on the dark complexities of the case. But the papers contained nothing of worth to the police. Mostly they related to Whitmore's business affairs, which apparently were in a healthy and flourishing condition.
With a shrug of disappointment the detective flung the last of the documents from him.
"Wasted labor!" he observed to the chief. "Might as well return them to Beard."
"Here is one we haven't examined," said Manning, offering a long, white envelope to Britz. "I don't know whether we are justified in opening it."
The back of the envelope had been sealed with wax in three places, and the seals were still undisturbed. Across the front of it was written,—
"Last will and testament of Herbert Whitmore."
Britz regarded the envelope with covetous eyes.
"There is no law which prevents the police from examining a murdered man's will," he remarked. "I suppose the proper thing would be to open it in the presence of the attorney for the deceased. But we are all disinterested witnesses so far as the document is concerned, so we'll proceed to examine it."
With a penknife Britz slit open the long edge of the envelope and, without waiting for authorization from his chief, spread the document before him. It consisted of three sheets of legal cap, to the last page of which Whitmore's signature and the names of two witnesses were affixed.
"Two pages of minor bequests," commented Britz as he finished reading the second sheet of the will.