--ever since I began to
practice, in fact--and so far as I know, he never made a will. More than
once I've suggested that he should make one, but like most men who are
in good health and spirits, he always put it off. However, we must look
over his papers both here and at Portman Square."

Selwood made no comment. He silently followed Barthorpe into the
private room in which his late employer had so strangely met his death.
The body had been removed by that time, and everything bore its usual
aspect, save for the presence of the police inspector and the detective,
who were peering about them in the mysterious fashion associated with
their calling. The inspector was looking narrowly at the fastenings of
the two windows and apparently debating the chances of entrance and exit
from them; the detective, armed with a magnifying glass, was examining
the edges of the door, the smooth backs of chairs, even the surface of
the desk, presumably for finger-marks.

"I shan't disturb you," said Barthorpe, genially. "Mr. Selwood and I
merely wish to investigate the contents of this safe. There's no
likelihood of finding what I'm particularly looking for in any of his
drawers in that desk," he continued, turning to Selwood. "I knew enough
of his habits to know that anything that's in there will be of a purely
business nature--referring to the estate. If he did keep anything that's
personal here, it'll be in that safe. Now, which is the key? Do you
know?"

He handed the bunch of keys to Selwood. And Selwood, who was feeling
strangely apathetic about the present proceedings, took them mechanically
and glanced carelessly at them. Then he started.

"There's a key missing!" he exclaimed, suddenly waking into interest. "I
know these keys well enough--Mr. Herapath was constantly handing them to
me. There ought to be six keys here--the key of this safe, the key of
the safe at Portman Square, the latch-key for this office, the key of
this room, the latch-key of the house, and a key of a safe at the Alpha
Safe Deposit place. That one--the Safe Deposit key--is missing."

Barthorpe knitted his forehead, and the two police officials paused in
their tasks and drew near the desk at which Selwood was standing.

"Are you certain of that?" asked Barthorpe.

"Sure!" answered Selwood. "As I say, I've been handling these keys every
day since I came to Mr. Herapath."

"When did you handle them last?"

"Yesterday afternoon: not so very long before