“They’ve gone!” Lenora shrieked. “They’ve been stolen! She was wearing them when I left the room!”
The Inspector turned to the telephone.
“Mr. Marsham,” he said, “I am afraid this will be a difficult affair. I am going to take the liberty of calling in an expert. Hello. I want Number One, New York City—Mr. Sanford Quest.”
4.
There seemed to be nothing at all original in the methods pursued by the great criminologist when confronted with this tableau of death and robbery. His remarks to the Inspector were few and perfunctory. He asked only a few languid questions of Macdougal and Lenora, who were summoned to his presence.
“You had left the hotel, I understand, at the time when the crime occurred?” he asked the latter.
Macdougal, grave and respectful, made his answers with difficulty. His voice was choked with emotion.
“I brought my mistress home from the Opera, sir. I rode on the box with Mrs. Delarey’s chauffeur. After I had seen her safely in the hotel, I went up to my room for two minutes and left the hotel by the back entrance.”
“Any one see you go?”
“The door-keeper, sir, and I passed a page upon the stairs.”