The Crown Prince sulkily reflected for a brief moment. “Well—on the whole—I think I did. Her denial of the affair seemed to me to be transparently honest.”
“Tell me,” said Anthony, “was it, as far as you know, the intention of Miss Carruthers, to return to her home at once—or did she intend to stay anywhere else in Seabourne?”
“She intended to return to London by the last train on Wednesday evening—she told me so.”
“Of course,” suggested Anthony, “her plans may have been altered—an attack of violent tooth-ache, for instance, has a lot of force behind it.”
“No mention was made to me of any tooth-ache. She had none while she was with me,” grumbled His Royal Highness.
Anthony couldn’t resist the feeling that the Crown Prince regarded it as most inconsiderate on the part of Miss Carruthers to have been murdered. “You have been seen together here, of course?” he queried.
“But naturally! We dined ‘à deux’ in the hotel on Wednesday evening. There is for example, a Captain Willoughby staying here who was also here in the hotel when we stayed before. They say he lives here permanently. If you remember——”
“He was the taker of the particularly-important photograph,” interjected Anthony. He made a point of remembering most things—did Mr. Bathurst.
“That is so,” supplemented the Crown Prince, “you see Captain Willoughby will be certain to connect us.”
Anthony could find no reason to contest the point. “Undoubtedly,” he responded.