"What do you mean, it's been stolen?" he demanded hotly. You could see that the suggestion outraged him. "You probably didn't look properly."
Ellen was respectful, but firm.
"It's gone, m'lord."
"You may have dropped it somewhere, Mrs.
Spottsworth," said Jill. "Was the clasp loose?"
"Why, yes," said Mrs. Spottsworth.
"The clasp was loose. But I distinctly remember putting it in its case last night."
"Not there now, moddom," said Ellen, rubbing it in.
"Let's go up and have a thorough search," said Monica.
"We will," said Mrs. Spottsworth. "But I'm afraid ... very much afraid—"
She followed Ellen out of the room. Monica, pausing at the door, eyed Rory balefully for an instant.
"Well, Bill," she said, "so you don't sell the house, after all. And if Big Mouth there hadn't come barging in prattling about water and buckets, that cheque would have been signed."
She swept out, and Rory looked at Bill, surprised.
"I say, did I drop a brick?"
Bill laughed hackingly.
"If one followed you about for a month, one would have enough bricks to build a house."
"In re this pendant. Anything I can do?"
"Yes, keep out of it."
"I could nip off in the car and fetch some of the local constabulary."
"Keep right out of it." Bill looked at his watch. "The Derby will be starting in a few minutes. Go in there and get the television working."
"Right," said Rory. "But if I'm needed, give me a shout."
He disappeared into the library, and Bill turned to Jeeves, who had once again effaced himself. In times of domestic crisis, Jeeves had the gift, possessed by all good butlers, of creating the illusion that he was not there. He was standing now at the extreme end of the room, looking stuffed.
"Jeeves!"
"M'lord?" said Jeeves, coming to life like a male Galatea.
"Any suggestions?"
"None of practical value, m'lord. But a thought has just occurred which enables me to take a somewhat brighter view of the situation. We were speaking not long since of Captain Biggar as a gentleman who had removed himself permanently from our midst. Does it not seem likely to your lordship that in the event of Ballymore emerging victorious the Captain, finding himself in possession of ample funds, will carry out his original plan of redeeming the pendant, bringing it back and affecting to discover it on the premises?"
Bill chewed his lip.
"You think so?"
"It would be the prudent course for him to pursue, m'lord. Suspicion, as I say, must inevitably rest upon him, and failure to return the ornament would place him in the disagreeable position of becoming a hunted man in hourly danger of being apprehended by the authorities. I am convinced that if Ballymore wins, we shall see Captain Biggar again."
"If Ballymore wins."
"Precisely, m'lord."
"Then one's whole future hangs on whether it does."
"That is how matters stand, m'lord."
Jill uttered a passionate cry.
"I'm going to start praying!"
"Yes, do," said Bill. "Pray that Ballymore will run as he has never run before.
Pray like billy-o. Pray all over the house.
Pray—"
Monica and Mrs. Spottsworth came back.
"Well," said Monica, "it's gone. There's no doubt about that.
I've just phoned for the police."
Bill reeled.
"What!"
"Yes. Rosalinda didn't want me to, but I insisted. I told her you wouldn't dream of not doing everything you could to catch the thief."
"You ... You think the thing's been stolen?"
"It's the only possible explanation."
Mrs. Spottsworth sighed.
"Oh, dear! I really am sorry to have started all this trouble."
"Nonsense, Rosalinda. Bill doesn't mind. All Bill wants is to see the crook caught and bunged into the cooler. Isn't it, Bill?"
"Yes, sir!" said Bill.
"For a good long stretch, too, let's hope."
"We mustn't be vindictive."
"No," said Mrs. Spottsworth. "You're quite right. Justice, but not vengeance."
"Well, one thing's certain," said Monica. "It's an inside job."
Bill stirred uneasily.
"Oh, do you think so?"
"Yes, and I've got a pretty shrewd idea who the guilty party is."
"Who?"
"Someone who was in a terrible state of nerves this morning."
"Oh?"
"His cup and saucer were rattling like castanets."
"When was this?"
"At breakfast. Do you want me to name names?"
"Go ahead."
"Captain Biggar!"
Mrs. Spottsworth started.
"What!"
"You weren't down, Rosalinda, or I'm sure you would have noticed it, too. He was as nervous as a treeful of elephants."
"Oh, no, no! Captain Biggar? That I can't and won't believe. If Captain Biggar were guilty, I should lose my faith in human nature. And that would be a far worse blow than losing the pendant."
"The pendant is gone, and he's gone. It adds up, don't you think? Oh, well," said Monica, "we shall soon know."
"What makes you so sure of that?"
"Why, the jewel-case, of course. The police will take it away and test it for fingerprints. What on earth's the matter, Bill?"
"Nothing's the matter," said Bill, who had leaped some eighteen inches into the air but saw no reason for revealing the sudden agonized thought which had motivated this adagio exhibition. "Er, Jeeves."
"M'lord?"
"Lady Carmoyle is speaking of Mrs.
Spottsworth's jewel-case."
"Yes, m'lord?"
"She threw out the interesting suggestion that the miscreant might have forgotten to wear gloves, in which event the bally thing would be covered with his fingerprints. That would be lucky, wouldn't it?"
"Extremely fortunate, m'lord."
"I'll bet he's wishing he hadn't been such an ass."
"Yes, m'lord."
"And that he could wipe them off."
"Yes, m'lord."
"You might go and get the thing, so as to have it ready for the police when they arrive."
"Very good, m'lord."
"Hold it by the edges, Jeeves. You don't want to disturb those fingerprints."
"I will exercise the greatest care, m'lord," said Jeeves, and went out, and almost simultaneously Colonel Wyvern came in through the French window.
At the moment of his entry Jill, knowing that when a man is in a state of extreme agitation there is nothing he needs more than a woman's gentle sympathy, had put her arms round Bill's neck and was kissing him tenderly. The spectacle brought the Colonel to a halt. It confused him.
With this sort of thing going on, it was difficult to lead up to the subject of horsewhips.
"Ha, hrr'mph!" he said, and Monica spun round, astounded.
"My goodness!" she said. "You have been quick.
It's only five minutes since I phoned."
"Eh?"
"Hullo, father," said Jill. "We were just waiting for you to show up. Have you brought your bloodhounds and magnifying glass?"
"What the dickens are you talking about?"
Monica was perplexed.
"Didn't you come in answer to my phone call, Colonel?"
"You keep talking about a phone call. What phone call? I came to see Lord Rowcester on a personal matter. What's all this about a phone call?"
"Mrs. Spottsworth's diamond pendant has been stolen, father."
"What? What? What?"
"This is Mrs. Spottsworth," said Monica. "Colonel Wyvern, Rosalinda, our Chief Constable."
"Charmed," said Colonel Wyvern, bowing gallantly, but an instant later he was the keen, remorseless police officer again. "Had your pendant stolen, eh? Bad show, bad show." He took out a note-book and a pencil. "An inside job, was it?"
"That's what we think."
"Then I'll have to have a list of everybody in the house."
Jill stepped forward, her hands extended.