They were nearing their destination, and the edges of the grounds of Assynton Lodge were already coming into sight. Anthony became grave again.
“But there’s one thing I don’t know,” he muttered. “What is the secret of these Stuart screens? What do they hold to make men murder for their possession? Why does one bear the first two words of a line from Virgil? ‘I fear the Greeks’—why the Greeks?—there were no Greeks round Mary surely”—he turned to his companion. “Tell me again—what was the inscription on the tapestry screen at the Hanover Galleries?”
“It was done in colored beads—the beads spelled the words, ‘Jesus Christ, God and Saviour.’ ”
“Made by a monk, I suppose,” murmured Anthony, “their work was usually dedicated in that way—still——”
Peter cut in. “I know! There’s one thing I wanted to ask you—it slipped my mind just now. What made you suspect Colonel Leach-Fletcher?”
Anthony showed signs of amusement. “Who says I suspect him?”
“I could see you did,” replied Peter, “dash it all, I’m not so blind as all that.”
“You’re forgetting something, Daventry,” said Anthony. “Leach-Fletcher’s stay was from seven to ten, you know—three hours he spent with the murdered man!”
Peter looked blank. “Don’t get you,” he exclaimed. “If you want to suspect anybody—suspect that lying Butterworth. He must have some ulterior motive for hatching up that yarn about Miss Lennox.”
Anthony shook his head in denial. “Butterworth told the truth, Daventry. What he said about Miss Lennox is entirely accurate.”