“If the woman had thought, as she probably did, she would know that you, with a man servant, would never pack for yourself. She couldn’t know which bag you used, nor could she know when you would use any particular one. If she put that revolver there any long time afterwards, she must have guessed that the veriest fool would know that Bailey might have packed and unpacked in the interval, and could swear to the absence of the revolver on the days he packed and unpacked for you. No, she probably put it there soon after the murder—probably when Bailey’s wife was away. That was soon after the murder was committed. It’s quite likely you were watched.”
“But why should she pitch upon me?”
“Because the first person suspected of an unexplained murder is a person who would stand to profit by the death. Don’t forget she knew the broad outlines of the secret trust—probably was the only person to know them—and knew you three would benefit greatly. Any one of you three would satisfy her purpose. She simply followed the line of least resistance.”
“But you are making her out, and assuming her to be, as clever as yourself in thinking things out. It’s a wrong presumption, Tempest. I think I’d pass for a man of average intelligence any day, but I should never have thought of half the things you’ve laid down.”
“No! no! Baxter. You may be a wee bit surprised at my thinking them out—you may, even as you say, have failed to do it yourself, but the surprise to you rests on the arrival at the conclusion from apparently unknown premises. You must remember there was nothing unknown to her, whilst we are groping in the dark. She was in the full light of a complete knowledge of all the facts. I wish I knew whether the woman were Sir John’s wife, or the mother of Evangeline, or a third person altogether. She may be both wife and mother. What I advise you to do now is to search again for the birth of Evangeline under the names of Manuel and Rellingham. Search in England, Scotland, and Ireland, and France and Belgium and Holland. There’s hardly time enough for her to have been born further afield.”
“Is that all we can do?”
“Well, one step at a time isn’t a bad plan. But as it happens there is something else you can do. Look here! Assume that I am right, and that the interview with one or both of the women took place in reference to the trust. It’s a big assumption of course; but take it for granted for the moment. Why did Sir John provoke or permit that interview? Lady Stableford had altered her will, cutting out Evangeline nearly two years before; yet Sir John took no steps. His will was certainly in existence some time before his death; but, as I explained to you, one, if not two, other people had to be let into their share of the cryptogram. If they knew before, we can hardly presume the meeting to have a reference to this point. On the other hand, why have the meeting at all, when Evangeline would come of age so soon after? The moment she came of age Sir John could have given her the money without any other explanation than that he was her father. He needn’t even have told her that much. Any tale would have done, and he had plenty of money to provide for her in cash, and might just as well have done so, instead of putting the money in the trust. Why didn’t he wait a few months longer? He had already waited twenty years. He wasn’t an old man—only fifty-five. Why should he have anticipated his own death?”
“Goodness only knows! But go on. I can see you’ve got some idea. Out with it.”
“Who was Sir John’s doctor?”
“Old Allingham of Harley Street.”