He led the way to his study, a large room at the back of the house on the second floor. When they were inside he locked and bolted the door, somewhat to Steadman's surprise.
“Now,” he said, going to the opposite side of the room and unlocking another door, “we are going right away to Mrs. Carnthwacke and you shall hear what she says, Mr. Steadman.”
The door he opened led into what was apparently his dressing-room with a communicating door into Mrs. Carnthwacke's apartments. In this a couple of women dressed as nurses were sitting. They rose. Furnival murmured:
“Female detectives to guard Mrs. Carnthwacke. Even her own maid is not admitted.”
One of them opened the farther door and ushered them into Mrs. Carnthwacke's room. In spite of Inspector Furnival's report, Steadman was surprised to see how well she looked. She was lying back in a capacious arm-chair; some arrangement of lace concealed any damage there might be to her throat, and beyond the fact that she was unusually pale—which might have been put down to the absence of make-up—and that one side of her face was a little swollen, he would have noticed nothing unusual in her.
He went forward with a few conventional words of sympathy. Carnthwacke drew up three chairs and motioned to the other men to be seated.
“Now, honey,” he said persuasively, “you are just going to tell us all once more what happened this morning.”
“I will do my best.” Mrs. Carnthwacke closed her eyes for a moment. “It is such a horrible ghastly thing. But—but I know that to let such a man be at large is a public danger. So I must tell you though every time I speak of it I seem to live through it again. Well, I left home this morning just as well as ever, Mr. Steadman. And really you wouldn't have thought I could be in any danger in my own car with two men on the front; now, would you?”
“I certainly should not,” John Steadman agreed.
“Such a thing never entered my head,” Mrs. Carnthwacke went on. “But first, perhaps, I had better say that I wore no jewellery that could possibly attract anybody's attention. None at all, in fact, but my wedding ring and the diamond half hoop that was my engagement ring which I have worn as a keeper ever since. I haven't even worn my pearls out of doors lately, because I thought it best to be on the safe side. Well, I went to my tailor's in New Bond Street. It was an awful bother getting there, because as you know Bond Street is up—any street you want to go to is always up—and we had to go very slow in the side streets because all the vehicles which turned out of Bond Street were crowding up in the narrower streets, and the traffic was generally disorganized. I was just hoping we should soon get out of the crush when the door of the car was opened and a young man got in. In that first moment I was not really frightened, for he looked like a gentleman and smiled quite pleasantly.”