She continued to knit, and had now arrived at the last rows of the bootee. It passed through her mind that nature had provided pretty, idle young women with a corrective to lightness of conduct. The bearing and the rearing of a succession of infants had perhaps been overdone in the past, but the modern discovery of how to escape from it altogether did not always serve the ends of morality. It was merely a passing thought, checked by the timely recollection that Moira Herne was a widow. Or was she? St. Paul however, himself a confirmed bachelor, had recommended that the younger widows should marry and have children. A truly great and wise man. But if he had known Moira Herne, would he have considered her a suitable influence in the home? She feared not. Her answer to Frank Abbott’s question was not sensibly delayed. She had thought disapprovingly of certain modern tendencies, considered St. Paul ’s attitude towards widows, and Moira’s suitability for motherhood, while he was still speaking. When he stopped, her mind moved quickly to the point which he had raised.
“I do not believe that I had got as far as the question of evidence. I was thinking of how we could best arrive at the truth. In this connection the identity of Mrs. Herne’s companion at the lodge would seem to be important. If he was with her in that front room, it should be possible to obtain his fingerprints.”
“Oh, yes, that could be done.”
“Then Sally Foster thinks that they drove away in a car which may have been in the lane or just inside the drive. Someone may possibly have noticed it.”
His hand rose and fell on the arm of his chair.
“Dusk, and a thunderstorm going on? Not very likely, you know, but we’ll see what can be done. Well, I must be getting on, or Crisp will suspect me of dalliance.”
She said,
“One moment, Frank. I feel sure that Mr. Garratt knows something.”
“What! Did he also swoon at the breakfast table?”
Her look reproved him.
“I will not go as far as that, but he certainly received a shock. I am convinced that he has some knowledge which is causing him distress.”
“He certainly looks ill.”
“He has something on his mind. I have felt increasingly certain on this point. In fact-” She laid down her knitting and rested her hands upon it. “Frank, I am extremely uneasy.”
He was struck by the gravity of her expression.
“On what account?”
“On Mr. Bellingdon’s account. I feel I should tell you that he has determined upon a course of action which may have serious consequences.”
“Such as?”
“Another and immediate attempt upon his life.”
“You really think his life has been attempted?”
“I feel more and more sure of it as the case goes on. The return of the necklace-”
He broke in before she could complete her sentence.
“Well now, why was it returned? And if it was going to be returned, why was it taken?”
“I believe that it was taken as a blind, the real object of the crime being the death of Mr. Bellingdon who it was believed would fetch the necklace himself if Mr. Garratt could be got out of the way. He was got out of the way, but Mr. Hughes was sent instead, and as he recognized his assailant he had to be shot.”
Frank Abbott said,
“Well, you know that doesn’t agree with one of the very few bits of evidence we’ve got -Miss Paine’s account of what the murderer said to the man whom he was meeting at the Masters gallery and who in all probability was the fence who was going to get the necklace out of the country. I can’t give you his words verbatim, but they certainly did not give any hint that there was anything in the job beyond the theft of a famous and valuable bit of jewellery.”
“And would you expect there to be such a hint? As I see it, this crime was planned from within the family circle. It was to be camouflaged as an ordinary jewel robbery. The man who played the principal part was someone equally at home in the family and in criminal circles. He was-he is-a man of bold and reckless character, willing to take a high risk for a high prize. He must be in a position to ensure that he will have his share in the prize. To speak plainly, I consider that he has a hold upon some member of Mr. Bellingdon’s family and can be sure of his or her co-operation.”
Frank leaned back in his chair.
“Well, it’s a theory. Putting it on one side for the moment, what has Bellingdon done, or what is he going to do, that you think will send the balloon up?”
Miss Silver said,
“He is going to inform his household that he proposes to marry Mrs. Scott and alter his will.”
Frank whistled.
“A very sporting effort! I suppose it hadn’t your encouragement?”
Miss Silver coughed.
“I told him that in my opinion it would provoke another attempt, to which he replied that he would rather take the risk and get it over. He said that he was an impatient man and did not like to sit and wait for things to happen.”
“Oh, well, I am with him there.”
“So you see that the next few days may be critical. He has had an interview with Mrs. Herne, and I think it probable that he has informed her of his intentions both with regard to Mrs. Scott and to his will. She is not likely to keep them to herself. If Mr. Bellingdon dies before his marriage, the beneficiaries under his existing will must profit. If he makes a new will in contemplation of marriage, or if he marries Mrs. Scott, the old will ceases to be operative. The person whose interests are most likely to be affected is Mrs. Herne. The return of the necklace also points in her direction. If you take the words overheard by Sally Foster as referring to the Queen’s Necklace, it would mean a determination on her part to secure it, and a refusal to go any farther unless she did so. I have no doubt that it is left to her under Mr. Bellingdon’s present will. Now I ask you to consider the part played by the unknown man whom we have been speaking of as the murderer. He has a bold and reckless character and contacts in two widely different circles. His interests are so much identified with those of Mrs. Herne as to enable him to feel sure that he will participate in whatever she may inherit from Mr. Bellingdon. It seems to me that there can be only one person to whom these considerations would apply, and that person is Mrs. Herne’s husband.”
“My dear ma’am!”
She said,
“Oliver Herne was killed in a motor accident on the continent. He was a racing motorist and of a bold and reckless character. He may have taken one risk too many, or it may have suited him to disappear. According to Miss Bray he was heavily in debt. The car was burnt out. Mrs. Herne identified her husband’s cigarette-case and signet-ring. I merely advance all this as a speculation. There is, as you know, another possibility. Meanwhile I think that every precaution should be taken.”
Chapter 33
IT was not a day upon which anyone cared to look back. Visits from the police are not apt to leave a happy atmosphere behind them. Hilton went about with the air of one who has been tried almost past bearing and reported to Annabel Scott, for whom he cherished a considerable regard, that Mrs, Hilton was very much disturbed in her mind-the impression conveyed being that a severe social stigma had been placed upon them, and that they were in doubt as to how long it could be endured. The various women who came in to help opined gloomily over more than the usual number of cups of tea that once that sort of thing started in a house you never knew where it was going to end, supporting this theory with shattering tales of disaster.
Lucius Bellingdon disappeared at midday accompanied by Annabel Scott. They took her car, but not before Parker had practically gone over it with a magnifying glass.
David Moray made a first sketch for Medusa. If Moira had imagined that the sittings would provide a pleasant distraction culminating as and when she pleased in a more or less serious affair with David Moray, she was to be disappointed. He couldn’t have been more impersonal if he had been painting a house. The way in which what he was pleased to call the planes of her face were constructed, the exact angle at which she was to turn her head, were a great deal more important than the fact that she had allowed her blank stare to melt into a beckoning one-a change which usually produced most gratifying results. When she followed it up by saying in an interested drawl, “You know, I’m not at all sure that I shouldn’t like you to do me with snakes in my hair,” he told her briefly that they weren’t necessary, and that talking put him off. Even Sally Foster wouldn’t really have considered a chaperone to be necessary. The mousetrap and the cheese might be there, but David’s mind was entirely occupied by Medusa who had been a myth for three thousand years or so.