“You mean you think that Dr. Wallace is—responsible for this.”
“Well, it does point that way to say the least of it. I’m sure that’s his writing on the pad slip. And listen. I went to Annie with the box to ask her if she thought I might take it, and this is what she told me. ‘Oh yes, miss, it was by the waste-paper basket in the dispensary this morning where the doctor always puts anything that he wants us to throw away, but it seemed such a nice box that I took it up-stairs instead.’ Now what do you make of that? I argue that he must have been trying what it would look like, when he was interrupted or something, and that he might have thrown them into the basket or on to the floor by mistake. The basket may have been full, perhaps, and then when Annie went to clean out she would naturally sweep them up into the box. Yes, and he would think that they had been burned, and wouldn’t like to make any inquiries when he missed them later on!”
“Yes, I suppose that is a possibility,” I replied meditatively, “but it doesn’t sound very characteristic of the doctor, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t, but I can’t think of anything more likely.”
We sat on the bench in thought for a little time, and then I gave her the information Janet had asked me to in her little note. I could have had no better opportunity.
“How very strange!” was Margaret’s comment. She sat frowning in thought, and then she turned to me, her eyebrows arched. “And so you suspect the doctor after all, do you? Or else why do you think that Mrs. Kenley, of all unlikely people, might have been searching his room? Come now, isn’t it more natural to suppose that she left the duster in the room? I think you’re almost as bad as I am, Mr. Jeffcock.”
“Well, one can’t help wondering,” I excused myself lamely enough; “but what are you going to do with these?”
“Give them to the police, I suppose. It’s no use showing them to the Kenneth-Ralph combination, and it would be unkind to say anything to Ethel. I think I shall just keep them to myself until Mr. Allport comes.”
“I think we ought to ring up the inspector at once, or show them to Mrs. Kenley,” I ventured, “she at any rate is impartial and has no bias.”
“You think her tremendously clever, don’t you? Perhaps I will.”