“I couldn’t have got away but for the girl, sir.”
“No.” Sir James smiled a little. “It was lucky for you she happened to—er—take a fancy to you.” Tommy appeared about to protest, but Sir James went on. “There’s no doubt about her being one of the gang, I suppose?”
“I’m afraid not, sir. I thought perhaps they were keeping her there by force, but the way she acted didn’t fit in with that. You see, she went back to them when she could have got away.”
Sir James nodded thoughtfully.
“What did she say? Something about wanting to be taken to Marguerite?”
“Yes, sir. I suppose she meant Mrs. Vandemeyer.”
“She always signed herself Rita Vandemeyer. All her friends spoke of her as Rita. Still, I suppose the girl must have been in the habit of calling her by her full name. And, at the moment she was crying out to her, Mrs. Vandemeyer was either dead or dying! Curious! There are one or two points that strike me as being obscure—their sudden change of attitude towards yourself, for instance. By the way, the house was raided, of course?”
“Yes, sir, but they’d all cleared out.”
“Naturally,” said Sir James dryly.
“And not a clue left behind.”