But Simone—the report came—was not in the house. She had gone out with Admiral Beatty, the Duchess's bull-dog. Neither Togo nor Huji could say when she was likely to return. But Togo made a suggestion. Nickson, the Duke's English valet, might know something of her movements.
"Nickson!" echoed Jack, surprised. "This is a new development, isn't it, Nick knowing anything about Simone? I had an idea there was no love lost there."
Togo ventured, on this encouragement, to smile dryly. At heart he had as little affection for Mademoiselle as Old Nick had. He would have liked to do her an ill turn in payment of many snubs, if it could be managed safely. "There is not much love, Captain," he said. "Perhaps that is why Mr. Nickson watches Mademoiselle when she takes the dog for a walk."
"Is he afraid she'll do Beatty harm?" asked Jack.
"I do not know, Captain. Mr. Nickson has not much talk. But perhaps he would answer some questions."
"Is he in the house?"
"Yes, Captain. I noticed he left soon after Mademoiselle, soon enough to see where she went—as he often does these days now His Grace is gone, and Mr. Nickson has not so much to keep him busy. But he is back."
"Ask him to come here," said Manners. He spoke gravely, and as the respectful Togo retired, threw Sanders a puzzled look. "Is there anything in this?" he asked.
"That's what I've been wondering myself," vouchsafed the detective.
"You knew Old Nick was dogging Simone's footsteps?"