It was not much, and threw no light on the authorship of the crime. The deceased--so ran the official narrative--was a money-lender of great repute, and that none of the best. He possessed a small office in London--52 Trunk Street, Cheapside--but seldom went there, as he preferred the quiet of the country--probably on account of his age, which was considerable. Nevertheless, from habit apparently, Mr. Jarvis continued to do business up to the very hour of his death. He died in harness, as might be said; for on the table, whereunder he lay, were letters from people--who need not be mentioned--asking for loans of money. These he was apparently considering, when he was struck down. "I understood, and I have seen," said the Coroner emphatically, "that the deceased's throat was cut." Inspector Jones assented, but pointed out that the old man was first felled by a blow from behind, as was apparent from a wound at the back of the head. The assassin had evidently entered stealthily, and had taken his victim by surprise. The murder was very deliberate, as the criminal had first stunned the old man, and then had cut his throat in a most brutal and thorough fashion. Therefore, as the Inspector suggested, the motive of the crime was more than mere robbery. A robber, having stunned his victim, could have taken what he desired, and escaped before Mr. Jarvis regained consciousness. But the death had taken place from the throat-cutting, and not from the blow on the head. "Has anything been taken from the room?" asked a juryman. "You mean the railway carriage," corrected the Inspector, who was pedantic in speech, and particular as to facts. "Yes; the safe was opened with the keys of the deceased--probably taken by the assassin from the dead body--and all the papers have been taken away." "What do you mean, exactly?" asked the Coroner. Inspector Jones held up his right hand. "I mean," he declared emphatically, "that the safe was as bare as the palm of my hand. All papers were removed, the drawers were emptied, and nothing was left--absolutely nothing." "The assassin must have carried quite a load?" "As the safe is a large one, and probably was fairly filled, it is extremely likely," replied the Inspector. Then he went on to state that the fact of the death was discovered the next morning by Mrs. Snow, the vicar's wife, who was paying a visit to Miss Hedge. The police were called in, and everything had been done to discover the whereabouts of the assassin, but in vain. Villagers, labourers, railway officials, chance folk travelling in carts and motor-cars and on bicycles had been questioned, but no suspicious character had been observed. The assassin had stolen in upon the old man out of the night; and when his detestable task had been executed, he had again vanished into the night with his plunder, leaving not a footprint behind by which he could be traced. "Yet the night was rainy," said the Coroner sapiently.