‘Were the keys in their proper places in the morning?’
The Prince did not answer immediately. He appeared to be reflecting. At last he said:
‘Yes, of course they were. I remember now taking them out of the safe myself, and handing them to my private secretary, who proceeded with me to my bureau. There is one point I forgot to tell you at our last interview. When I opened the safe in the bureau, I noticed that the lid of the despatch-box was wide open. It was that that aroused my suspicions, and led to my discovering immediately that the papers had gone.’
‘But the despatch-box had been locked overnight?’
‘I am certain of it.’
‘So that the thief must have forgotten to close it again after abstracting the papers.’
‘Precisely so.’
After this interview, Danevitch felt more than ever convinced that someone in very close personal relations with the Prince had been a party to the deed, and began to look round to see if suspicion could be justifiably entertained against any one of the inner household, so to speak. With a view to this end, he arranged the following plan with the Prince. He was to spend two days at the official residence in the character of a foreign visitor—the Prince’s guest. André, the valet, was to be told off to personally attend him.
In due course Danevitch arrived. He was driven to the residence in one of the Prince’s carriages, which was sent to the station to meet him. He had a certain amount of luggage, which was deposited in the handsome bed-chamber allotted to him. He was a German on a secret mission, and did not understand Russian. His get-up would have deceived his own mother. He found André a smart, intelligent young man, who seemed to wear his heart upon his sleeve. There was nothing whatever in his manner or bearing which caused Danevitch to mistrust him.
The beautiful Catarina presided over the Prince’s household, but never sat at his table. The detective was a little puzzled at first to understand the reason of that; and, in fact, Catarina was a kind of mystery, but in a few hours he had defined her position. Ostensibly she was his ward. She was the daughter of a very old friend of his, a military man, who had been killed on active service, and, in accordance with a solemn compact made between the two men, the Prince undertook to be a father to the orphan daughter. That was the story generally believed; at any rate, people affected to believe it. Danevitch did not. He found that Catarina had great influence over the Prince at times; but at others he seemed to treat her with coldness, even disdain, according to his mood. Danevitch came to the conclusion that Catarina was, in her way, almost as much a diplomatist as the Prince himself; but he saw signs—trifling ones, but significant to him—that whatever love or affection there was was on the Prince’s side. He was sure that Catarina was not happy, but led a lonely, fretting life in that splendid palace.