Numerous complications lead from the murder of Jacob Herapath and the search for his will.
apath for some reason or other gave house-room. That he was no relation Selwood judged from the way in which he was always addressed by Herapath and by Peggie Wynne. To them as to all the servants he was Mr. Tertius--whether that was his surname or not, Selwood did not know.
There was nothing mysterious or doubtful about the great pile of buildings at which the automobile presently stopped. They were practical and concrete facts. Most people in London knew the famous Herapath Flats--they had aroused public interest from the time that their founder began building them.
Jacob Herapath, a speculator in real estate, had always cherished a notion of building a mass of high-class residential flats on the most modern lines. Nothing of the sort which he contemplated, he said, existed in London--when the opportunity came he would show the building world what could and should be done. The opportunity came when a parcel of land in Kensington fell into the market--Jacob Herapath made haste to purchase it, a
A rather convoluted but enjoyable mystery. So far I have been pleased with stories written by J. S. Fletcher.
Well-written murder mystery, with a family secret and a disputed will. I was a little disappointed that the solution to the mystery involved information that was not provided until the end of the book. That made it impossible for me to guess who the murderer was.