Here also the light was on, and as Alcorn passed in, he saw that he was indeed in the presence of tragedy, and he stood for a moment motionless, taking in his surroundings. The room was small, but well proportioned. Near the window stood a roll-top desk of old-fashioned design. A leather-lined clients’ arm-chair was close by, with behind it a well-filled bookcase. In the fireplace the remains of a fire still glowed red. A table littered with books and papers and a large Milner safe completed the furniture. The doors of this safe were open. Alcorn mechanically noted these details, but it was not on them that his attention was first concentrated. Before the safe lay the body of a man, hunched forward in a heap, as if he had collapsed when stooping to take something out. Though the face was hidden, there was that in the attitude which left no doubt that he was dead. And the cause of death was equally obvious. On the back of the bald head, just above the fringe of white hair, was an ugly wound, as if from a blow of some blunt but heavy weapon. With an oath, Alcorn stepped forward and touched the cheek. “Cold,” he exclaimed. “He must have been dead some time. When did you find him?” “Just now,” the young man answered. “I came in for a book, and found him lying there. I ran for help at once.” The constable nodded. “We’d best have a doctor anyway,” he decided. A telephone stood on the top of the desk, and he called up his headquarters, asking that an officer and a doctor be sent at once. Then he turned to his companion. “Now, sir, what’s all this about? Who are you, and how do you come to be here?” The young man, though obviously agitated and ill at ease, answered collectedly enough. “My name is Orchard, William Orchard, and I am a clerk in this office—Duke & Peabody’s, diamond merchants. As I have just said, I called in for a book I had forgotten, and I found—what you see.” “And what did you do?” “Do? I did what any one else would have done in the same circumstances. I looked to see if Mr. Gething was dead, and when I saw he was I didn’t touch the body, but ran for help. You were the first person I saw.” “Mr. Gething?” the constable repeated sharply. “Then you know the dead man?” “Yes. It is Mr. Gething, our head clerk.” “What about the safe? Is there anything missing from that?” “I don’t know,” the young man answered. “I believe there were a lot of diamonds in it, but I don’t know what amount, and I’ve not looked what’s there now.” “Who would know about it?” “I don’t suppose any one but Mr. Duke, now Mr. Gething’s dead. He’s the chief, the only partner I’ve ever seen.” Constable Alcorn paused, evidently at a loss as to his next move. Finally, following precedent, he took a somewhat dog’s-eared notebook from his pocket, and with a stumpy pencil began to note the particulars he had gleaned. “Gething, you say the dead man’s name was? What was his first name?” “Charles.”