The King Diamond by Fred M. White — Read

For once in a way the tragedy in the Leg of Mutton spinney attracted but little attention. There was local interest, of course, but nothing in the case calculated to appeal to the sensational Press, and certainly nothing out of which the artists on such periodicals could base an arresting story. It was merely that some wandering coloured man had been found dead in the plantation and that an inquest had been held upon him as a mere matter of form. The gamekeeper who found the body gave evidence, and so also did Sir Hercules Slaney. And the latter had very little to say. He was under the impression that the Kafir had followed him down to Ravenswood to lay some grievance before him. Considering the fact that he was so well known among the native races in Africa there was nothing strange in this. The man had been too excited to be coherent, and when he began to grow abusive the witness had merely thrown him into a pile of undergrowth and had gone his way, thinking no more about it.

All this sounded commonplace enough, as did the evidence of Masefield who followed. Masefield testified to the fact that he could find no signs of violence whatever, though he was rather puzzled to account for the cause of death, and therefore he must decline to give a certificate until he could have the opinion of pathologists in London. Therefore, as a mere matter of form, he would like to have the inquest adjourned, say, for a month. This course was promptly agreed to, and, so far as Ravenswood was concerned, there was an end to the matter. And nobody knew except the police about the diamond which had been discovered in the clenched hand of the dead man and nobody was likely to know unless sensational events followed. Even the police were unaware of the reason why Bly had more or less insisted on their keeping the story of the diamond so profound a secret.