"Think. I think as I've done all along," he replied. "Caprice stole those jewels herself, and sold them to old Lazarus."
"But what's that got to do with the death of my father?" asked Ezra.
"Perhaps nothing--perhaps a lot," said the detective. "I don't know but that boy's evidence has given me a clue. Suppose--I'm only supposing, mind you--Caprice stole her own diamonds, with Villiers as an accomplice. Suppose she took them to old Lazarus and sold 'em. Suppose Villiers, thinking the old man has them in his safe, goes to rob him, and commits the murder to do so. Suppose all that--I should think there would be a very pretty case against Villiers."
"Yes; but Keith's knife?" said Eugénie.
"Ah, now you have me," answered Naball, puzzled. "I don't know, unless Villiers managed to get it while Stewart was fighting with him on that night, and covered it in blood in order to throw suspicion on him."
"All your ideas are theoretical," said Ezra drily. "Perhaps Caprice never stole her own jewels, or sold them to my father."
"Yes, she did, I'll swear," retorted Naball decisively. "Why wouldn't she prosecute? why did I find Villiers with one of the jewels? You bet, she stole them for some freak, and I daresay Villiers committed the murder to get them back."
"I don't think my father would have kept such valuable jewels as that about the premises."
"No; he'd put 'em in the bank."
"No, he wouldn't," retorted Ezra; "he sent all his jewels to Amsterdam. And here," holding up a letter, "is an envelope with the Dutch postmark."