“There is not the slightest reason why you shouldn’t have your cat back to-morrow,” I said bluntly. “You are no more likely to kill it than I am. The man was telling you a pack of lies from the beginning. Sir Frank Tarleton will tell you the same. We have been finding out a good deal about this man during the last few days; and you were not his only victim.”
Mrs. Baker opened her eyes in a way that showed more offence than gratitude. I had gone the wrong way to work to disabuse her.
“I am much obliged to you, Dr. Cassidy,” she said stiffly, “but I much prefer to be on the safe side. We none of us know the secrets of our own hearts, it seems to me. I consider Dr. Witheredge a cruel man, and I have done with him; but he was extremely clever; and I am satisfied that there is something in the science of psycho-analysis.”
Tarleton came to my rescue. “The more there is in it the more dangerous it may be in the hands of a clever man without scruples. If you’ll allow me to say so, I think you acted very wisely in deciding to have nothing more to do with Dr. Weathered.”
The lady accepted this graciously, and smoothed down her ruffled feathers. I thought I might venture on a fresh question.
“Did you know that he was the real proprietor of the Domino Club?”
“Never! You don’t say so? I understood it was run by a Frenchwoman—Madame Bonnet.”
“You have been there, I suppose?”
“Only once. I heard so much about it that I thought I must go and see what it was like. I was there only last Wednesday. But I didn’t stay more than an hour. Dr. Weathell was there, disguised as an Inquisitor, and I was so afraid of his recognizing me that I came away.”
There could be no doubt, as far as I could see, that this was the truth. And if it was the truth the lady of the leopard skin and claws was now ruled out of the case. Her part in it had been confined to supplying the poison, or rather in innocently letting it be known where it could be found. To clinch the matter I said: