“It’s all my fault, Mr. Policeman,” she managed to get out between her sobs. “I’ll tell the truth. I promised mother when I came into service I’d tell the truth always, so I’ll tell it now, even though I shall cop out for it—but it’s all my fault and God’s own mercy that we haven’t all been murdered.” She paused for breath.
“Come, come, my girl, what is all your fault?” demanded Baddeley.
“Why, sir ... this.... I d-d-don’t believe I put the n-n-necklace case away at all!”
“You mean you left it lying where Lady Considine had left it?”
“Y-y-yes! I meant to put it away first thing that morning when my Lady told me to—but something put it out of my mind and made me forget it ... and I never saw it again to make me remember it. At least I don’t think I did.”
“You can’t be sure of that, you know ...” remarked the Inspector. “Because you didn’t see it, doesn’t prove it wasn’t there.” He turned to Sir Charles. “Any strange characters been knocking about lately, that you’ve noticed?”
“None that I’ve seen.”
“H’m! Probably an inside job. With your permission I’ll step up to the bedroom in question, a little later on, Sir Charles! Perhaps you gentlemen would care to accompany me? I’ll adjourn down here, temporarily. All right, Coombes—you come along with us.”
We made our way upstairs—Anthony wrapped in thought.
Lady Considine’s bedroom was, as has already been explained, on the same floor as the billiard room. It will be remembered that the door of the latter faced anybody ascending the stairs. Lady Considine’s room lay on the left of the landing some twenty yards away. Between her room and the billiard room was the bedroom occupied by Dick and Helen Arkwright.