"No, I didn't. Badly as Jabez treated me I did not kill him, although I don't deny that I wished for his death. Well, he is dead and I got his money, and now—" she buried her shameful face in her hands wailingly—"oh! my poor dear Henry, I have lost him and lost all. As to you"—she suddenly lifted up her head to glare furiously at Cyril, who was leaning against the door-post a few yards from the watching policeman—"you have been the evil genius of us all. Where are my jewels?"
"They are in this bag," said Lister, holding it up, "and they belong to Bella."
"Jabez left everything to me," began Mrs. Vand, when Cyril interrupted.
"These jewels were not his to leave. They were the property of Maxwell Faith, who was a trader and——"
"I know all about that," said Mrs. Vand, cutting him short, "and Bella is his daughter, you were going to say."
"Yes; therefore the jewels are her property. Who told you of——"
"Luke Tunks told me."
"That's a lie!" snarled Granny from her stool near the fire.
"It's the truth," gasped Mrs. Vand, taking another sip of the brandy which Bella held to her lips. "Luke was dodging round the house on the night of the murder and peeped in at the study window. He overheard the interview between Jabez and Edwin Lister."
"What!" Cyril took a step forward in sheer surprise. "You know my father's name also?"