“I wasn’t there, but we heard that a lady had been present who left early. She wore the skin of a leopard, and a necklace of leopard’s claws.”
“Yes, that was me; I went as a Leopardess,” our amiable hostess responded with a frankness which put an end to the last doubt. She added in a tone of quiet triumph, “I can see now that that was where my murderous propensities came out. Why else should I have gone as a beast of prey?”
I had to admit that she had scored off me. Anything less like a beast of prey or a potential murderess than the bright and birdlike little woman I have never seen.
My chief picked out one point that I had overlooked.
“Did Weathered mention the Club to you, ma’am? Or did you know this Madame Bonnell?”
Mrs. Baker drew herself up.
“I didn’t know her,” she said with emphasis. “Such a person is not in my social circle. I knew of her. A friend of mine in Chelsea gave me her card when I went to buy a ticket for the dance, but she was a friend of Madame Bunner’s. It was only a form.”
The answer was equally decisive. It seemed clear to me that the only person who could have known of the existence of the poison, and abstracted it, was the man who had perished by it. I saw Tarleton’s watch come out of his pocket, and its slow, steady motion told me that his brain was already at work on the last winding of the mystery.
When we had done full justice to the refreshments put before us we came away pledged to attend the first At Home given by our hostess, which she explained would be as soon as she was out of mourning for her brother. I think she had won both our hearts in spite of her eccentricities, and we entertained no serious dread that her murderous propensities would be indulged at our expense.
Tarleton was very silent till we were back at Montague Street. Even when we were in his study again he did not seem much disposed to discuss the new situation with me. For the first time since the beginning of the investigation I had the impression that I was not entirely in his confidence.