“No,” said Bakche so quickly that Alan felt sure he was not speaking the exact truth, and became more sure of the fact when he elaborated his denial. “Miss Grison refused to give me her brother’s address, which I knew was in some slum. And of course, not guessing that Grison had the peacock, I did not push my enquiries. Had I known that he had the bird I should have placed the matter in the hands of a private detective, and in some way I should have learned his whereabouts.”
“And then?”
“Then,” said Bakche, drawing a deep breath and clenching his small hands, “I should have forced him to surrender it to me.”
“You would have used violence?” asked Alan in A peculiar tone.
“Yes! That is——” Bakche broke off with a laugh of contempt. “Why do you look at me so suspiciously, Mr. Fuller? Do you think that I did see the man and did use violence even to the extent of stabbing him? You are entirely wrong, sir. Had I murdered him and obtained the peacock I should by this time have been far away on the Continent out of danger, and until things grew quieter, I should have remained absent trying to solve the riddle. I am not the criminal, and I am not the possessor of the peacock.”
“I grant that,” said Fuller quietly, who knew well that the man spoke the truth, since Sorley owned the bird at that moment. “Well, and what do you expect me to do, Mr. Bakche?”
“I wish you to find out who murdered Grison, so that the peacock may be recovered and handed over to me.”
“On behalf of Miss Inderwick I am doing that,” said Alan dryly, “so I cannot possibly act on your behalf.”
“The peacock is mine,” cried the Indian, rising to his feet with a snarl which again reminded Fuller of his tigerish nature.
“The peacock is Miss Inderwick’s, and should I find it, I shall hand it over to her so that she may discover the treasure.”