Miss Silver asked a practical question.

“What does he do?”

Lucius Bellingdon was at his most overpowering as he replied,

“As little as he can help.”

Observing the jut of his chin, the formidable curve of his nose, the characteristic air of command, it occurred to her that it might be possible that he had undervalued Arnold Bray in respect of what he had rather coarsely referred to as “guts”. The expression offended her, but she did not allow herself to dwell upon that. What presented itself with some force was the fact that it would certainly require courage of some sort to obtrude oneself upon Mr. Bellingdon as an uninvited and unwanted guest, to say nothing of dunning him for money which he was under no obligation to supply.

Lucius said,

“If you asked him, I suppose he would describe himself as a commission agent. Goes round trying to get people to buy things they don’t want and could get much better in a shop.”

Miss Silver considered that Arnold Bray sounded very much like the sort of person who might pass on any information he had the good fortune to pick up. With Elaine Bray aware that the necklace was to be fetched from the bank on Tuesday and her brother Arnold in the house for the week-end, she did not feel that the source of the leakage was very far to seek. She gave a slight preliminary cough and said,

“I do not wish to impute any wrong motive to Miss Bray, but she talks a good deal, and usually about the people round her and the things that are happening to them from day to day. Do you find it difficult to suppose that she may have mentioned your arrangements about the necklace to her brother, and that he may have repeated what she had told him? It could in either case have been done through inadvertence.”

He was at his most abrupt as he said,

“That’s out. She didn’t know what my arrangements were. She knew I was getting the necklace. I suppose she knew that I was getting it on the Tuesday. She didn’t know the time, or who would be fetching it.”

“Who did know those things?”

“The bank manager because I wrote to him, Hubert Garratt who was supposed to be fetching the necklace, and later, but not until the Tuesday morning, Arthur Hughes who had to take Hubert’s place.”

Miss Silver looked up at him.

“When you came to see me in town and I asked you how many people knew of your arrangements for withdrawing the necklace your reply included the bank manager, Mr. Garratt and Mr. Hughes, your daughter, and Miss Bray and Mrs. Scott.”

He said with impatience,

“They knew I was getting it out of the bank. I told Moira that Hubert would fetch it on Tuesday.”

“Did she regard it as a confidential communication, or as one which it would be natural to speak of amongst her friends and relations?”

He gave her a chagrined glance.

“Oh, well, I don’t suppose she considered that it was a top-level secret. I suppose she may have spoken of it here in the house. I can’t blame her if she did. One doesn’t exactly go about expecting people to be murdered.”

“When did you tell her?”

“I believe it was on the Sunday.”

“Mr. Arnold Bray was still here?”

He shrugged his big shoulders.

“And Clay Masterson, and the Rennicks, and Wilfrid Gaunt.”

“And Mrs. Scott?”

She saw an angry colour come up into his face, but he did not speak. After a moment she went on.

“Mrs. Herne could have mentioned the matter to any of these people. She could have mentioned it in the hearing of any of your staff. And any of these people could have mentioned it again. And all without evil intent. The ripples spread quickly in a pool. There were so many people in the house, some partially and some more accurately informed, and one of the latter a girl surrounded by her friends and with no particular reason to suppose that she would be doing wrong if she mentioned what was going to be a very important adjunct to her costume for the ball that you were giving. Is it difficult to see how this information could have passed rapidly from one to another until it reached someone who was prepared to turn it to his own advantage? At present we have only one clue to help us in searching for this person. It is the fact that the murderer could so little afford to be recognized that he was prepared to go to any length to avoid it. That is the point to which I find myself recurring. This man was someone who would not trust any disguise to protect him from being recognized by Mr. Garratt.”

“By Hubert?” The words came slowly.

“It was Mr. Garratt who was to collect the necklace.”

“It was Arthur Hughes who was murdered.”

“I have given some attention to that point. It could mean that Mr. Hughes was equally dangerous, or that having made up his mind to shoot, the criminal’s intention held in spite of the fact that it was no longer Mr. Garratt who would be the victim.”

Lucius Bellingdon moved abruptly.

“I don’t see that it gets us any forarder either way.”

Chapter 14

AFTER leaving Lucius Bellingdon Miss Silver retired to her room, where an extremely comfortable easy chair offered an opportunity for rest and thought. For once her hands were unoccupied. Her knitting-bag lay on a stool beside her. She leaned back against the cushion, which admirably repeated the predominant colours in the very charming flowered chintz with which the chair was covered, and reviewed what she had gathered during the late interview. As she went over it in her mind, it was clear to her that anyone in the house could have known of and repeated the information which had made it possible for the necklace to be stolen. Mr. Bellingdon, having averred that Miss Bray did not know what were his arrangements about the necklace, went on to say that he supposed she knew that he was getting it out on the Tuesday, but stated that she did not know the time or who would be the messenger. Pressed as to who did know these things, he said the bank manager, Hubert Garratt, and at the last moment Arthur Hughes. But to further questioning he admitted that his daughter knew that the necklace was to be fetched on Tuesday. Miss Silver found herself perfectly convinced that what was known to Miss Bray and to Moira Herne would be no secret from the rest of the house-party. If it was generally known, it would be generally and freely discussed. In which case the Hiltons, Mrs. Stubbs, Mrs. Donald the gardener’s wife, and the dailies from the village could also have been in possession of the facts and could have passed them on just by way of gossip and without any criminal intent. She considered sedately that really men had very little idea of what went on in a house. It was the women who worked there, and especially those who went to and fro from their work to a neighbouring village, who had an unerring instinct for anything out of the way and an unflagging interest in retailing it. Lucius Bellingdon might flatter himself that no one knew anything which he had not himself imparted, but she had no doubt that he was mistaken. As to his point about the time being unknown to anyone except himself and Hubert Garratt, Mr. Garratt might not have considered himself bound to secrecy. He might, for instance, have mentioned the matter to Mrs. Herne.

She had reached this point, when there came a gentle tapping on the door. Mrs. Scott made a graceful entrance.

“I do hope I am not disturbing you. I really did want to have a little talk if you can spare the time.”

Her smile was charming. Her whole manner was charming. It said, “I want to be friends. I do hope you will let me.” There was just a touch of diffidence which, like the quality of her voice, made her seem younger than she was.

Miss Silver responding, Annabel pulled up a second and rather smaller chair and sat down. All her movements were easy and pleasant to watch. She leaned forward now, an elbow on the arm of the chair, and said,