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Updated: June 16, 2025
So for the time being he closed his note-book and drew back beneath the shade of a cypress-tree, respectfully watching. In the tail-end of the procession he knew nobody; it was made up, he guessed, of Jacob Herapath's numerous clerks from the estate offices, and But suddenly Triffitt saw a face in that procession.
You didn't go into the room after first catching sight of the body? Just so but you'd notice things, even in a hurried glance. Did you notice any sign of a struggle overturned chair or anything?" "No, sir. I did notice that Mr. Herapath's elbow chair, that he always sat in at his desk, was pushed back a bit, and was a bit on one side as it were. That was all." "And the light the electric light?
"There are the numbers of the notes. Of course, I can't see how all this throws any light on the mystery of Herapath's murder, but perhaps you can. Sellers," he continued, turning to the clerk, and beckoning him to look at the pass-book, "find me the cheque referred to there, and bring it here." The clerk returned in a few minutes with the cheque, which Mr.
Herapath's presence and Mr. Burchill's presence, and that Mr. Burchill's signature was attached under the same conditions. Am I right in all this?" "Quite right," replied Mr. Tertius. "Quite!" "Is this the document which Jacob Herapath produced?" "It is certainly." "Was it all drawn out then? I am putting these questions to you quite informally." "It was all written out, except the signatures.
"That hasn't quite struck me," replied Triffitt. "How is it just as obvious?" "Because whoever went to Portman Square went in old Herapath's fur-trimmed coat and his slouch hat, and the fur trimmed coat and slouch hat were found in the office," answered Carver. "It's absolutely plain, that. I put it like this.
He led the way into the study and pointed to a small table set by the side of Herapath's big business desk. "You see that tray, Mr. Selwood? That's always left out, there, on that table, for Mr. Herapath every night. A small decanter of whiskey, a syphon, a few sandwiches, a dry biscuit or two. Well, there you are, sir he's had a drink out of that glass, he's had a mouthful or so of sandwiches.
"What! to look for Dimambro?" exclaimed Selwood. "Why not? Remember that Burchill was Jacob Herapath's secretary before you were," answered the Professor. "He was with Jacob some time, wasn't he? Well, he knew a good deal about Jacob's doings. Jacob may have had dealings with this Dimambro person in Burchill's days. You don't remember that Jacob had any such dealings in your time?"
"Well, I did think he was letting out a bit when he said that," replied Arthur, with a chuckle. "Never mind, we'll go halves in the Exhibition." It must be admitted that the prospect of his coming academical success did not appreciably affect Arthur Herapath's studies during the present term.
"Don't tell falsehoods. Do fifty lines, and next time you'll be sent up." "That's a nice lark," muttered the baronet as the senior retired. "It was you chaps made the row, and I get potted for it. But I say," added he, as if such a mishap were the most common of incidents, "that isn't a bad joke, is it? Fancy calling Herapath's sister "
Only two or three days ago a little, quiet man, who turned out to be a bit of a property-owner down at Fulham, came to me and said that ever since Mr. Jacob Herapath's murder he'd been what he called studying over it, and he thought he ought to tell me something. He said he was a very slow thinker, and it had taken him a long time to think all this out. Then he told me his tale.
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