Strangely enough, it was from Mrs. Vand's solicitor that the first news came of her doings. Timson was the lawyer's name, and he came down to Pierside to see Inspector Inglis. On being shown into the inspector's office he broke out abruptly—
"Sir," said Timson, who was a mild-faced, spectacled, yellow-haired man, "I have a communication to make to you about my respected client, Mrs. Rosamund Vand, if you will hear it."
"Respectable, eh?" questioned the officer ironically. "Perhaps you don't know, Mr.—Mr."—he referred to the card—"Mr. Timson, that your respectable client is wanted for her complicity in the murder of her brother?"
"Sir," said Mr. Timson again and firmly, "my client—my respected client," he added with emphasis "assured me that she had nothing to do with the commission of that crime. She was in a dead faint in the kitchen when her husband, in a moment of passion, struck down Captain Huxham."
"So she says because it is to her benefit to say so, Mr. Timson. But the man who saw the murder committed swears that it was a most deliberate affair, and was only done for the sake of certain jewels, which——"
"Deliberate or not, Mr. Inspector," interrupted the meek little man, "my respected client had nothing to do with it. Afterwards she held her tongue for the sake of her husband, for his sake also paid blackmail to the man who saw the crime committed."
"We can argue that point," said Inglis drily, "when we see Mrs. Vand. You are doubtless aware of her whereabouts?"
"No," said Timson coolly, "I am not."
"But you said you had seen her—after the murder was committed, I fancy you hinted."
"I saw her," said Timson, quite calmly, "on the day following her flight from the hut on the marshes. She alighted in Piccadilly and walked about the streets for the rest of the night. Afterwards she went to a quiet hotel and had a brush and a wash up. She then called on me—"