Haskins found his time hang rather heavily on his hands when Mavis and her new guardian left London. He wished to wait for Tod before beginning operations, but it would be quite a fortnight until Macandrew returned, and until then there was nothing to do. Gerald tried to write a few chapters of his new book, in vain. The thought of Mavis and of her perilous position filled his head, so he was obliged to throw aside his literary work, until matters were made straight for the girl. Having come to this conclusion, he resolved not to wait for Tod's arrival, but to work at the case himself. The difficulty was how to begin.
Arnold had stated plainly that he believed Rebb to be the guilty person, but of this Gerald could not be sure. He was convinced that if Bellaria's life had stood between Rebb and the six thousand a year she would have been murdered long ago. Moreover, the story of how Geary's knife came to be used sounded very plausible, and, if Rebb were guilty, Haskins believed that he would not have told the police about the weapon, as he had done, when the inquest was held. Then, again, Arnold did not know the true reason of Bellaria's fear and why she had buried herself in that secluded Devonshire village. It struck Gerald that the Tána Society had traced Bellaria Dondi to Leegarth, and there she had been slain, as she expected. Mrs. Berch knew of Bellaria's dread of the coral hand, as Gerald had told her about it when she called to claim it again. She might have informed Venosta, who had bestowed the amulet on Mrs. Crosbie. He was undoubtedly an emissary of the Tána Society, and probably was the real criminal.
Arguing in this way, Haskins resolved to call on Mrs. Crosbie, and question her mother as to whether she had betrayed Bellaria to the burly Italian. Also, he was anxious to learn why Signor Venosta had given the coral hand to the widow, as it was incredible to think that she belonged to such a cut-throat organization. But there must be some reason why Mrs. Crosbie should hold the trinket which had so sinister a significance, and this Gerald made up his mind to see into. Finally, and as a third reason for his visit, he desired to know when Rebb and Mrs. Crosbie would marry. If Tod were right about the widow's impecuniosity--and Gerald believed that he was--she would not become the Major's wife unless he was certain of his income. And while Mavis remained undiscovered Rebb could by no means be certain.
Gerald would have asked Arnold to come to London, but he thought it best that he should not be seen in the company of Schaibar, as the Major might suspect that something was wrong. It was of course, impossible that Rebb could ever trace Mavis, but it was just as well to be on the safe side. So Arnold remained in Exeter, touring the surrounding country as far as Silbury, Denleigh, and Leegarth, keeping a keen eye on Geary, and communicating to Gerald by registered letters all the gossip dealing with the case which he could gather. It seemed from the little man's epistles that the excitement had died down after Bellaria was buried, and a belief existed that Mavis, while flying from justice, had fallen into some river and had been drowned. Whether the negro or Rebb shared this comfortable belief Haskins could not discover. He thought not, else the Major might have been still more afraid of losing his illegal income. In spite of his denial that Mavis had any relatives either on the father's or mother's side, it was possible that the gallant officer lied. And if relatives existed they would certainly claim the money if Mavis was supposed to be dead.
A few days, therefore, after Mavis had departed with Mrs. Pelham Odin to Southend, Gerald paid a visit to Ladysmith Mansions. Mrs. Crosbie was within, looking much the same as usual, and she received him in quite a friendly manner. He fancied that the disagreeable topic of their last conversation had vanished from her memory. But her first words, after greetings, proved that this was not the case.
"I am glad to see you, my dear Gerald," she said, languidly pointing to a seat, "but I hope you are not going to tell me any more horrors."
"I was not aware that I had ever told you any," he answered, rather annoyed by her tone.
"Oh yes. All that story of the lunatic, whom you wanted me to look after. It was just as well that I did not, seeing how mad she is."
"She is not mad," insisted the young man. "I told you that before, and I tell you again, Madge."
"How often have I said that you are not to call me by my Christian name, you silly boy," said Mrs. Crosbie irritably.