Daphne shook her head—her own excitement had passed for the time being and she was now feeling quite calm—stunned almost with the horror that she had been the first to unveil properly.
“Hardly a friend,” she replied. “Although I knew her very well. She was a very great friend of my late uncle—Major Desmond Carruthers. I expect you have heard of him—he died in March of last year—he was killed in a motoring accident. He was Chief Constable of Westhamptonshire.” She looked at Bannister inquiringly.
Anthony was stung into the keenest attention. Westhamptonshire! Another coincidence or another link in the chain—which? He caught the Crown Prince’s eye and instantly formed the opinion that the mention of Westhamptonshire had increased that gentleman’s agitation. But Bannister was pressing eagerly for information.
“I remember the name, I think. Although I never connected you with him. Can you give me her home address?”
“Oh yes,” replied Miss Carruthers simply. “Rest Harrow, Tranfield, near Westhampton.”
Mr. Bathurst’s grey eyes flashed back to the Crown Prince. Westhampton and now Tranfield—the two places of the post-marks on the Crown Prince’s letters! Alexis had apparently appreciated the point just as quickly as Mr. Bathurst himself—his fingers were toying nervously with the ends of his bellicose moustache. Bannister noted the address in his book.
“Why was this young lady in Seabourne, Miss Carruthers?” he inquired. “Any idea?”
Daphne’s answer was a negative. “None whatever, Inspector. I haven’t set eyes on her for months.”
“What are her people?”
“Her father and mother are dead. Her father was Colonel Delaney of the Westhampton Regiment. She lives with a kind of family retainer—her old nurse, I think.” She knitted her brows.