e door closed
Mr. Tertius turned slowly back to the study. And as he turned he
muttered a word or two and smiled cynically.

"A diamond ring!" he said. "Jacob Herapath never wore a diamond ring in
his life!"

CHAPTER VII

IS THERE A WILL?

When Triffitt hurried off with his precious budget of news Selwood
lingered on the step of the office watching his retreating figure, and
wondering about the new idea which the reporter had put into his mind.
It was one of those ideas which instantly arouse all sorts of vague,
sinister possibilities, but Selwood found himself unable to formulate
anything definite out of any of them. Certainly, if Mr. Herapath died
at, or before, twelve o'clock midnight, he could not have been in
Portman Square at one o'clock in the morning! Yet, according to all the
evidence, he had been there, in his own house, in his own study. His
coachman had seen him in the act of entering the house; there was proof
that he had eaten food and drunk liquor in the house. The doctor must
have made a mistake--and yet, Selwood remembered, he had spoken very
positively. But if he had not made a mistake?--what then? How could
Jacob Herapath be lying dead in his office at Kensington and nibbling at
a sandwich in Portman Square at one and the same hour? Clearly there was
something wrong, something deeply mysterious, something----

At that point of his surmisings and questionings Selwood heard himself
called by Barthorpe Herapath, and he turned to see that gentleman
standing in the hall dangling a bunch of keys, which Selwood instantly
recognized.

"We have just found these keys," said Barthorpe. "You remember the
inspector said he found no keys in my uncle's pockets? We found these
pushed away under some loose papers on the desk. It looks as if he'd put
them on the desk when he sat down, and had displaced them when he fell
out of his chair. Of course, they're his--perhaps you recognize them?"

"Yes," answered Selwood, abruptly. "They're his."

"I want you to come with me while I open his private safe," continued
Barthorpe. "At junctures like these there are always things that have got
to be done. Now, did you ever hear my uncle speak of his will--whether
he'd made one, and, if so, where he'd put it? Hear anything?"

"Nothing," replied Selwood. "I never heard him mention such a thing."

"Well, between ourselves," said Barthorpe, "neither did I. I've done all
his legal work for him for a great many years