"Yes, that was the name--and fell in love with her. He neglected Miss Sarschine and she reproached him. There was a lot of trouble and quarrelling between them and Lord Calliston stayed away a good bit. Three weeks ago I went away for a holiday, and when I came back I found my mistress in a terrible state. She had discovered in some way that Lord Calliston had determined to elope with Lady Balscombe and go off to the Azores in his yacht. Miss Sarschine was mad with rage; she said she would kill them both; and then thought she'd play a trick upon Lord Calliston and go off with him instead. This was on Monday last."
"The time of the murder," murmured Dowker.
"She went to Lord Calliston's rooms in Piccadilly and found out from his valet that he intended to leave town that evening for Shoreham, where his yacht was lying, and that Lady Balscombe was to follow him early next morning. So she came back here and, waiting till the evening, dressed herself and put on my hat as less conspicuous than her own. She intended to catch the ten minutes past nine train from London Bridge Station and go right on board Lord Calliston's yacht and insist upon his sailing and leaving Lady Balscombe in the lurch. She went out about seven with that intention and since then I have heard nothing of her. I thought she had carried out her scheme and gone off with Lord Calliston to the Azores."
"Did you not hear of the Jermyn Street murder?"
"Yes, casually, but I never thought of connecting it with my mistress, and all the servants here live very quietly, so they would never think Miss Sarschine was the victim."
"What was she doing in Jermyn Street?"
"I can't tell you. Lord Calliston has rooms in Piccadilly, so perhaps she went there first and then through Jermyn Street on her way to the station."
"You do not know anyone who had a grudge against her?"
"No--no one."
Dowker arose to his feet.