Rex shook his head.
“I didn’t go any farther than the mouth of the river,” he said. “I came off with the pilot. The cables and wireless messages that I sent were despatched by the steward, whom I paid for that purpose. I never left town.”
Tab could say nothing.
“If you had done as I wished,” said Rex with an odd note of reproach in his voice, “I should have made you a rich man, Tab, but like the sneaking swine you are, you took the woman who was fore-ordained to be my wife! Your beastly lips have touched hers, my goddess!” His voice quavered.
Tab, staring at him, realized that he was in the presence of a madman.
“You think I am mad,” said Rex, as though he was guessing the other’s thoughts. “Perhaps I am, but I adore her. I killed Jesse Trasmere because I wanted her, could not wait for her, needed the money to possess her.”
In a flash there came to Tab, Ursula’s words: “I killed Jesse Trasmere. I was the indirect cause.”
So she knew! That was the explanation of her strange attitude when Rex had come into the room.
And Yeh Ling knew, and had come soft-footed to the door of the private dining-room ready to leap upon the visitor if he showed any signs of hostility. Yeh Ling, the watchful, the soft-footed one, the everlasting guardian—in his heart Tab Holland thanked God for Yeh Ling.
Rex went out of the vault and was gone for five minutes. When he came back he was carrying a writing-pad which he put on the table, pulled up a chair and sat down.