Lady Fullgarney leaned across excitedly. “We saw them together—I remember him well—we couldn’t place him—could we, Matthew?”
Anthony nodded and proceeded. “There he saw Sheila Delaney—they were introduced—his ‘incognito’ was maintained. They fell in love with each other—he was a fine man, you know. Fine physique—and so on. But Fate played a strange trick. The Crown Prince was there—also ‘incognito’—known only to the few—he was with Daphne Carruthers. Alan Warburton was there—with Sheila—he had the mortification of seeing her sudden infatuation for Bannister—and he mistook him for the Crown Prince of Clorania. I am inclined to think that Sheila purposely allowed him to do so, or perhaps even told him that it was so. He says that she did. In fact, I question if she ever knew his real identity—he was a married man with two children, you know. I doubt if she even knew his real name. But this is all conjecture. God alone knows what story he told her. But Warburton knew he had a rival and a successful rival—he began to blackmail him eventually—knowing of the approaching Royal marriage. Now things began to get a bit too hot for Bannister—it may have been his wife—it may have been his impending retirement urged him to finish the intrigue.”
“He was young to retire, wasn’t he, Mr. Bathurst?” queried Lady Brantwood.
“The police retire young,” replied Sir Austin Kemble, “it depends upon their term of service. Bannister was forty-seven when his retirement fell due.”
Anthony took a cigar from the box Sir Matthew offered him. “Then Sheila signed her death-warrant. She told him of her unique legacy—‘The Peacock’s Eye.’ He coveted it—he would possess it and rid himself of her at the same time. He laid his plans accordingly. He arranged his holiday at Seabourne—and adopted horn-rimmed glasses in case he should be recognised afterwards.”
“How do you mean?” asked Lady Fullgarney; “that isn’t clear to me. Why—afterwards?”
“In case he should touch the case at all officially—he was in Seabourne remember—and get to Westhampton again—as he eventually did. He wanted the Bannister of the Hunt Ball forgotten as much as possible.”
“I see,” said Lady Fullgarney.
“Then he got Sheila to obtain the jewel from the bank and come to meet him at Seabourne. He poisoned her with prussic acid administered from a syringe. At least that’s my opinion. Her visit to the dentist’s gave him his chance. He followed her in at the side-entrance, waited for Branston to leave her as he guessed he might—pushed the bolt to imprison him—and strolled into the surgery. It was easy—a matter of seconds. If anything had gone wrong it wouldn’t have mattered much—he had just called in to see how she was. He would have poisoned her somewhere else. But he wanted to make certain of getting time to visit the bungalow at Tranfield. Therefore—she must not be identified immediately. To that end he had stolen Daphne Carruthers’ suit-case from the ‘Cassandra’ Hotel the night before, and booked the room at the ‘Lauderdale’ in her name. The suit-case was substituted for Sheila’s own in her car and Sheila’s pushed under the seat at the back. She never knew.”
Sir Austin broke in. “Where was he when Sheila went to the ‘Lauderdale’?”