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Updated: June 16, 2025
"The answer is plain if astonishing. I have managed to get mixed up in this matter of Jacob Herapath's murder! That sounds odd, doesn't it? nevertheless, it's true. But we can't go into that now. And I cannot do more than tell you that I simply bring a message and want an answer. My dear!" she continued, laying a hand on Peggie's arm, "you do not wish to see Barthorpe Herapath hanged?"
"Say nothing, my dear, at present," commanded Mr. Halfpenny, firmly. "Allow Mr. Barthorpe Herapath to have his say. Now, sir!" he went on, with a motion of his hand towards the younger solicitor. "Pray let us hear you." "In my own fashion," retorted Barthorpe. "You're not a judge, you know. Very good if I give pain to you, Peggie, it's not my fault. Now, Mr.
Herapath to tell him of his arrival, and to notify him that he had brought with him some pearls of the sort he wanted. Mr. Herapath thereupon made an appointment with Dimambro at the House of Commons on the evening of November 12th at half-past ten o'clock. Dimambro kept that appointment, showed Mr.
The manager turned to the pages last filled in. "You're aware, of course, some of you at any rate," he said, "you, Mr. Halfpenny, and you, Mr. Selwood, that the late Jacob Herapath dealt in big sums. He always had a very large balance at this branch of our bank; he was continually paying in and drawing out amounts which, to men of less means, must needs seem tremendous.
Give me the facts, Mr. Selwood!" Selwood stared at the ardent collector of news; then he motioned him to follow, and led him into the hall to where Barthorpe Herapath was standing with the police-inspector. "This is a newspaper man," he said laconically, looking at Barthorpe. "Mr. Triffitt, of the Argus. He wants the facts of this affair." Barthorpe turned and looked the new-comer up and down.
Halfpenny drew the will towards himself with an impatient movement and began to replace it in the large envelope from which it had been taken. "In short, you never assisted at the execution of this document never saw Jacob Herapath make any will never witnessed any signature of his to this?" he said testily. "That's what you really say what you affirm?" "Just so," replied Burchill.
The car moved gently up Baker Street, and Selwood glanced inquiringly at their captor. "May we have the pleasure of " The elderly lady brought out a card-case and some papers. "I am Mrs. Engledew," she said. "I live in the Herapath Flats. I don't suppose you ever heard of me, Miss Wynne, but I knew your uncle very well we had been acquaintances, nay, friends, for years.
As a matter of fact, he was very ill when he came to me, and he died six weeks after his arrival at my house. He is buried in the churchyard of the village from which he originally came in Wales and you can inspect all the documents relating to his death, and see his grave if you care to. After his death, for reasons into which I need not go, I went to live with Jacob Herapath.
Herapath was connected, you know." "I know I know," answered Triffitt, still busy. "Those two behind him, now middle-aged parties?" "One's Mr. Frankton, the manager, and the other's Mr. Charlwood, the cashier, at the estate office," replied Selwood. "They'll go down in staff and employees," said Triffitt. "Um I've got a good list.
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.
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