The Herapath Property Part 7

"There, my dear fellow," he said. "Presently I will deposit the gla.s.s in that, and the sandwich in this. Then I shall adjust and seal the lids in such a fashion that no air can enter these little chambers. Then through those tiny orifices I shall extract whatever air is in them--to the most infinitesimal remnant of it. Then I shall seal those orifices--and there you are. Whoever wants to see that sandwich or that gla.s.s will find both a year hence--ten years hence--a century hence!--in precisely the same condition in which we now see them. And that reminds me," he continued, as he turned away to his desk and picked up his pipe, "that reminds me, Tertius--what are you going to do about these things being seen?

They'll have to be seen, you know. Have you thought of the police--the detectives?"

"I have certainly thought of both," replied Mr. Tertius. "But--I think not yet, in either case. I think one had better await the result of the inquest. Something may come out, you know."

"Coroners and juries," observed the Professor oracularly, "are good at finding the obvious. Whether they get at the mysteries and the secrets----"

"Just so--just so!" said Mr. Tertius. "I quite apprehend you. All the same, I think we will see what is put before the coroner. Now, what point suggests itself to you, c.o.x-Raythwaite?"

"One in particular," answered the Professor. "Whatever medical evidence is called ought to show without reasonable doubt what time Herapath actually met his death."

"Quite so," said Mr. Tertius gravely. "If that's once established----"

"Then, of course, your own investigation, or suggestion, or theory about that sandwich will be vastly simplified," replied the Professor.

"Meanwhile, you will no doubt take some means of observing--eh?"

"I shall use every means to observe," said Mr. Tertius with a significant smile, which was almost a wink. "Of that you may be--dead certain!"

Then he left Professor c.o.x-Raythwaite to hermetically seal up the gla.s.s and the sandwich, and quitting the house, walked slowly back to Portman Square. As he turned out of Oxford Street into Orchard Street the newsboys suddenly came rushing along with the _Argus_ special.

CHAPTER VI

THE TAXI-CAB DRIVER

Mr. Tertius bought a copy of the newspaper, and standing aside on the pavement, read with much interest and surprise the story which Triffitt's keen appet.i.te for news and ready craftsmanship in writing had so quickly put together. Happening to glance up from the paper in the course of his reading, he observed that several other people were similarly employed. The truth was that Triffitt had headed his column: "MYSTERIOUS DEATH OF MR. HERAPATH, M.P. IS IT SUICIDE OR MURDER?"--and as this also appeared in great staring letters on the contents bills which the newsboys were carrying about with them, and as Herapath had been well known in that district, there was a vast amount of interest aroused thereabouts by the news. Indeed, people were beginning to chatter on the sidewalks, and at the doors of the shops. And as Mr.

Tertius turned away in the direction of Portman Square, he heard one excited bystander express a candid opinion.

"Suicide?" exclaimed this man, thrusting his paper into the hands of a companion. "Not much! Catch old Jacob Herapath at that game--he was a deuced deal too fond of life and money! Murder, sir--murder!--that's the ticket--murder!"

Mr. Tertius went slowly homeward, head bent and eyes moody. He let himself into the house; at the sound of his step in the hall Peggie Wynne looked out of the study. She retreated into it at sight of Mr.

Tertius, and he followed her and closed the door. Looking narrowly at her, he saw that the girl had been shedding tears, and he laid his hand shyly yet sympathetically on her arm. "Yes," he said quietly, "I've been feeling like that ever since--since I heard about things. But I don't know--I suppose we shall feel it more when--when we realize it more, eh?

Just now there's the other thing to think about, isn't there?"

Peggie mopped her eyes and looked at him. He was such a quiet, un.o.btrusive, inoffensive old gentleman that she wondered more than ever why Barthorpe had refused to admit him to the informal conference.

"What other thing?" she asked.

Mr. Tertius looked round the room--strangely empty now that Jacob Herapath's bustling and strenuous presence was no longer in it--and shook his head.

"There's one thought you mustn't permit yourself to harbour for a moment, my dear," he answered. "Don't even for a fraction of time allow yourself to think that my old friend took his own life! That's--impossible."

"I don't," said Peggie. "I never did think so. It is, as you say, impossible. I knew him too well to believe that. So, of course, it's----"

"Murder," a.s.sented Mr. Tertius. "Murder! I heard a man in the street voice the same opinion just now. Of course! It's the only opinion. Yet in the newspaper they're asking which it was. But I suppose the newspapers must be--sensational."

"You don't mean to say it's in the newspapers already?" exclaimed Peggie.

Mr. Tertius handed to her the _Argus_ special, which he had carried crumpled up in his hand.

"Everybody's reading it out there in the streets," he said. "It's extraordinary, now, how these affairs seem to fascinate people.

Yes--it's all there. That is, of course, as far as it's gone."

"How did the paper people come to know all this?" asked Peggie, glancing rapidly over Triffitt's leaded lines.

"I suppose they got it from the police," replied Mr. Tertius. "I don't know much about such matters, but I believe the police and the Press are in constant touch. Of course, it's well they should be--it attracts public notice. And in cases like this, public notice is an excellent thing. We shall have to hear--and find out--a good deal before we get at the truth in this case, my dear."

Peggie suddenly flung down the newspaper and looked inquiringly at the old man.

"Mr. Tertius," she said abruptly, "why wouldn't Barthorpe let you come into that room down there at the office this morning?"

Mr. Tertius did not answer this direct question at once. He walked away to the window and stood looking out into the square for a while. When at last he spoke his voice was singularly even and colourless. He might have been discussing a question on which it was impossible to feel any emotion.

"I really cannot positively say, my dear," he replied. "I have known, of course, for some time that Mr. Barthorpe Herapath is not well disposed towards me. I have observed a certain coldness, a contempt, on his part.

I have been aware that he has resented my presence in this house. And I suppose he felt that as I am not a member of the family, I had no right to sit in council with him and with you."

"Not a member of the family!" exclaimed Peggie. "Why, you came here soon after I came--all those years ago!"

"I have dwelt under Jacob Herapath's roof, in this house, fifteen years," said Mr. Tertius, reflectively. "Fifteen years!--yes. Yes--Jacob and I were--good friends."

As he spoke the last word a tear trickled from beneath Mr. Tertius's spectacles and ran down into his beard, and Peggie, catching sight of it, impulsively jumped from her seat and kissed him affectionately.

"Never mind, Mr. Tertius!" she said, patting his shoulders. "You and I are friends, too, anyway. I don't like Barthorpe when he's like that--I hate that side of him. And anyhow, Barthorpe doesn't matter--to me. I don't suppose he matters to anything--except himself."

Mr. Tertius gravely shook his head.

"Mr. Barthorpe Herapath may matter a great deal, my dear," he remarked.

"He is a very forceful person. I do not know what provision my poor friend may have made, but Barthorpe, you will remember, is his nephew, and, I believe, his only male relative. And in that case----"

Mr. Tertius was just then interrupted by the entrance of a footman who came in and looked inquiringly at Peggie.

"There's a taxi-cab driver at the door, miss," he announced. "He says he would like to speak to some one about the news in the paper about--about the master, miss."

Peggie looked at Mr. Tertius. And Mr. Tertius quickly made a sign to the footman.

"Bring the man in at once," he commanded. And, as if to lose no time, he followed the footman into the hall, and at once returned, conducting a young man who carried a copy of the _Argus_ in his hand. "Yes?" he said, closing the door behind them and motioning the man to a seat. "You wish to tell us something! This lady is Miss Wynne--Mr. Herapath's niece. You can tell us anything you think of importance. Do you know anything, then?"

The taxi-cab driver lifted the _Argus_.

"This here newspaper, sir," he answered. "I've just been reading of it--about Mr. Herapath, sir."

"Yes," said Mr. Tertius gently. "Yes?"

"Well, sir--strikes me as how I drove him, sir, this morning," answered the driver. "Gentleman of his appearance, anyway, sir--that's a fact!"

Mr. Tertius glanced at Peggie, who was intently watching the caller.