Inspector Chippenfield gave a glance in the direction of Crewe, but did not deign to give any sign of recognition.  The fact that Crewe by his presence in the gallery seemed to entertain the idea that the murderer might be found among the occupants of that part of the court could not be as lightly dismissed as Rolfe’s vague suggestion.  It annoyed Inspector Chippenfield to think that Crewe might be nearer at the moment to the murderer than he himself was, even though that proximity was merely physical and unsupported by evidence or even by any theory.  It would have been a great relief to him if he had known that Crewe’s object in going to the gallery was not to mix with the criminal classes, but in order to keep a careful survey of what took place in the body of the court without making himself too prominent.

Mr. Holymead, K.C., arrived, and members of the junior bar deferentially made room for him.  He shook hands with some of these gentlemen and also with Inspector Chippenfield, much to the gratification of that officer.  Miss Fewbanks arrived in a taxi-cab a few minutes before the appointed hour of eleven.  She was accompanied by Mrs. Holymead, and they were shown into a private room by Police-Constable Flack, who had received instructions from Inspector Chippenfield to be on the lookout for the murdered man’s daughter.

Miss Fewbanks and Mrs. Holymead had been almost inseparable since the tragedy had been discovered.  Immediately on the arrival of Miss Fewbanks from Dellmere, Mrs. Holymead had gone out to Riversbrook to condole with her, and to support her in her great sorrow.  But the murdered man’s daughter, who, on account of having lived apart from her father, had developed a self-reliant spirit, seemed to be less overcome by the horror of the tragedy than Mrs. Holymead was.  It was with a feeling that there was something lacking in her own nature, that the girl realised that Mrs. Holymead’s grief for the violent death of a man who had been her husband’s dearest friend was greater than her own grief at the loss of a father.

One of the directions in which Mrs. Holymead’s grief found expression was in a feverish desire to know all that was being done to discover the murderer.  She displayed continuous interest in the investigations of the detectives engaged on the case, and she had implored Miss Fewbanks to let her know when any important discovery was made.  She applauded the action of her young friend in engaging such a famous detective as Crewe, and declared that if anyone could unravel the mystery, Crewe would do it.  She had been particularly anxious to hear through Miss Fewbanks what Crewe’s impressions were, with regard to the tragedy.

The court was opened punctually, the coroner being Mr. Bodyman, a stout, clean-shaven, white-haired gentleman who had spent thirty years of his life in the stuffy atmosphere of police courts hearing police-court cases.  Police-Inspector Seldon nodded in reply to the inquiring glance of the coroner, and the inquest was opened.