“Certainly, but—”
“You have no confidence in my reasons, Inspector; they may not weigh against that splash of blood on Mr. Durand’s shirt-front, but such as they are I must give them. But first, it will be necessary for you to accept for the nonce Mr. Durand’s statements as true. Are you willing to do this?”
“I will try.”
“Then, a harder thing yet,—to put some confidence in my judgment. I saw the man and did not like him long before any intimation of the evening’s tragedy had turned suspicion on any one. I watched him as I watched others. I saw that he had not come to the ball to please Mr. Ramsdell or for any pleasure he himself hoped to reap from social intercourse, but for some purpose much more important, and that this purpose was connected with Mrs. Fairbrother’s diamond. Indifferent, almost morose before she came upon the scene, he brightened to a surprising extent the moment he found himself in her presence. Not because she was a beautiful woman, for he scarcely honored her face or even her superb figure with a look. All his glances were centered on her large fan, which, in swaying to and fro, alternately hid and revealed the splendor on her breast; and when by chance it hung suspended for a moment in her forgetful hand and he caught a full glimpse of the great gem, I perceived such a change in his face that, if nothing more had occurred that night to give prominence to this woman and her diamond, I should have carried home the conviction that interests of no common import lay behind a feeling so extraordinarily displayed.”
“Fanciful, my dear Miss Van Arsdale! Interesting, but fanciful.”
“I know. I have not yet touched on fact. But facts are coming, Inspector.”
He stared. Evidently he was not accustomed to hear the law laid down in this fashion by a midget of my proportions.
“Go on,” said he; “happily, I have no clerk here to listen.”
“I would not speak if you had. These are words for but one ear as yet. Not even my uncle suspects the direction of my thoughts.”
“Proceed,” he again enjoined.