Fanks looked puzzled. She evidently spoke in all good faith, and he could not but believe her. He wondered if she was right, and whether the negro of Dr. Binjoy had killed the baronet after all. "Did you recognise as Caesar the black man who came here on that night?" he asked.
"No; how could I? I never saw Caesar in my life. But I know that Binjoy had a negro servant; that he smuggled him off to Bombay; and that he was the friend of Sir Louis Fellenger. Therefore I thought this negro was the instrument Binjoy made use of to kill Sir Gregory."
"Do you know anything about a tattooed cross, Mrs. Boazoph?" asked Fanks, going on another tack.
The woman fell into her chair as pale as a sheet of paper. The mention of the tattooed cross had a most powerful effect on her mind, and she stared thunderstruck at the detective. Not a word could she utter for at least two minutes. When she spoke her voice was thick and unsteady. "What do you know of the tattooed cross?" she muttered.
"I know that Sir Gregory let this disguised man tattoo a cross on his left arm, and that the needle used was poisoned. Now, can you tell me why Sir Gregory let a cross be pricked on his arm?"
"No! no! I--I--can't tell you that."
"Does that mean that you won't tell me?"
"It--means that I--I--can't tell you," gasped Mrs. Boazoph. "I did not know Sir Gregory Fellenger."
"Do you know anyone else who has a cross tattooed on his left arm?" asked Fanks, preparing for his great stroke.
"No! Why do you ask me?" she muttered, in a terrified tone.