Marie was about to indignantly assert that she alone had the right to the name, when Alan prevented her. “That is a very natural question, sir,” he remarked, opening the black bag, “perhaps this will assure you of the identity of this young lady.”
Berwick stared when the peacock in all its glittering glory was placed under the electric light, and his ruddy face grew a trifle pale as he pushed back his chair uneasily. “It’s the peacock,” he muttered.
“You know about the peacock then?” questioned Alan sharply.
“Yes! When taking charge of the affairs of Yarbury’s Bank I looked into all business old and new; also searching amongst old documents and examining deeds and papers dealing with various transactions which are in our strong-rooms below. I came across the account of the peacock, and the meaning of the peacock, belonging to George Inderwick, although a certain box which had to do with that bird was placed here by Simon Ferrier.”
“Inderwick’s servant,” said Alan dryly, “hum! it seems to me that we are on the right track, Marie.”
She nodded again, but Mr. Berwick, who still seemed much perturbed, moistened his lips and spoke unsteadily. “I can certainly supply you with information, which I can guess you require; but before doing so, I should like to send for Inspector Moon.”
“But why——” began Marie hotly, only to be interrupted by her lover.
“I quite understand what you mean, Mr. Berwick,” he said calmly, “and, of course, under the circumstances, it is necessary that you should take every precaution to safeguard the interests of the bank.”
“Precaution, Mr. Fuller?” stammered the manager uneasily.
“I also,” continued the lawyer imperturbably, “have read the account in the newspapers of the interview with Miss Louisa Grison. She declared therein that if the peacock were discovered, the assassin of her brother could be brought to justice. Is that not so?”