I nodded. "No doubt. In Mrs. Caldershaw's past will be found the motive for the committal of this strange crime. That glass eye was a dangerous possession, Mrs. Giles."
"Lor', sir, do you think that has anything to do with it?"
"Everything, if you remember what Miss Destiny said about the value Mrs. Caldershaw attached to that glass eye. She is dead, and evidently--since the eye is missing--was murdered for its possession. Depend upon it, Mrs. Giles, when Inspector Dredge learns the history of that eye, he will be able to lay his hand on this lady who so ingeniously escaped."
"But after all," said Cannington, looking back from the door, "you really aren't arrested, Vance, are you?"
"You can put it that I am under surveillance, boy."
"What rot."
"Come and tell Dredge so," said I, taking his arm. "I'll be back soon, Mrs. Giles, so tell your husband," and with a nod I went out.
We found Cannington's--or rather Trent's--motor at the door, and got into it to proceed to the shop round the corner. Here we found Inspector Dredge, surrounded by his myrmidons, and I explained to him that my friend had come to vouch for my respectability; also that I desired to go in search of my Rippler. The Inspector, although as grim-faced, was less taciturn than on the previous night, and received my explanation most kindly, assuring me that there was little need for Lord Cannington to state my honourable qualities. "Although," he added, "his lordship is welcome to depose to your position, as a matter of form."
"Oh, Mr. Vance is all right," said Cannington cheerily, "he only commits murders on the stage."
"I don't think even on the stage I ever committed so ingenious a murder as this one seems to be," I retorted.