"Possibly," said Quarles, as he turned his attention to the coffin. He examined the lid with a lens, for the finger marks, he said, which one might expect to find near the screw holes. Then he studied the sides of the coffin. The two pieces of lead did not appear to interest him very much, but he asked me to push the smaller piece from the foot of the coffin. He examined the lining, felt the padding, tried its thickness with the point of a penknife, and in doing so he slit the lining. "Sorry," he said. "My old hands are not as steady as they used to be. Quite a thick padding, and quite a substantial coffin." He had brought out some of the padding with his knife, and this left part of the floor of the coffin near the foot visible. This he tapped with the handle of his penknife to test its thickness. "Quite an ordinary coffin--plain but good," he went on, looking at the brass fittings. "It was my father's wish that it should be so," said Sir Arthur. "Strange what a lot of trouble some men take about their funerals, while others never trouble at all," said the professor, looking round the room again. "I suppose, Sir Arthur, like the rest of us your father had enemies." "Not that I know of." "An old rival, for instance, in your mother's affections." "There was nothing of the kind. Mr. Thompson, who is still in the house--you saw him yesterday, Mr. Wigan--will endorse this. He knew my mother before her marriage." "Still, some people must have envied your father. But for him, another branch of the family would have inherited the estates, I understand. Has he always been on friendly terms with this branch of the family?" "Always, and has helped them considerably." "Experience teaches us that it is often the most difficult thing to forgive those who do us favors," said Quarles sententiously. "Do you believe that some one out of wanton cruelty has stolen the body with no purpose beyond mere revenge?" "It looks like it, Sir Arthur. The body will probably be discovered presently. Possibly the thief will furnish you with a clue so that you may know he or she has taken revenge. I am afraid there is nothing to be done but to wait. I feel greatly for Lady Rusholm." "The waiting will be dreadful. I am trying to persuade my mother to go away at once." "Why not? You will remain in London, of course. Your father's papers may throw some light on the mystery." "I have interviewed lawyers, and I have already gone through some of his private papers. I do not think any light will come that way. Do you want to look at anything else in the house?" "I think not," I said. "My specialty is finger prints," said Quarles, "nothing else. In this case my specialty has proved useless." When we left the house Quarles turned toward Connaught Road. "Is it your real opinion that the only thing to do is to wait?" I asked. "Let's go and see if we can find any more finger prints," he chuckled. The garage was shut. Cut into the big gates was a small door.