“I don’t know,” French rejoined. “I’m asking you.”
Miss Scott didn’t know either, but in her opinion the Inspector’s suggestion might well be the truth. French noted the matter as one for future consideration as he continued his interrogation.
“What was Mr. Vane like in appearance? Did cook ever say?”
Cook, it appeared, had supplied information on this point also. Even French, who knew the ways of servants, was amazed at the detailed thoroughness with which these two had evidently discussed their employers’ affairs. Mr. Vane was tall, but stooped, with a sallow complexion, a heavy dark moustache, and glasses.
As French listened to this description an almost incredible idea flashed into his mind. He seemed to see a vision of the Duke & Peabody office in Amsterdam, and to hear again the voice of the dapper agent, Schoofs, saying: “A tall man, but stooped, with a sallow complexion, a heavy dark moustache, and glasses.” Could it be? Could this mysterious Mr. Vane be none other than his old acquaintance, Vanderkemp?
For a time he sat motionless, lost in thought, as he considered the possibility. It would certainly clear up a good deal that was mysterious in the case. It would account for Vanderkemp’s actions previous to the murder, as well as his bolt to Switzerland; it would supply a cause for Sylvia Duke’s perturbation and for the postponement of the wedding; and it would explain how Mrs. Vane received her warning, Mr. Duke having stated he would, without delay, tell Vanderkemp of the discovery of Cissie Winter. The choice of the name Vane even tended in the same direction. There were advantages in an alias beginning with the same letter as the real name, lest an inadvertent initial on clothing or elsewhere should give the secret away. Moreover, the theory involved nothing inherently impossible. Vanderkemp was then, and had been for some time, ostensibly on an extended tour in the United States, so that, as far as he could see at present an alibi was out of the question.
At first sight it seemed to French as if he had hit on the solution of the mystery, but as he continued turning it over in his mind he became less and less certain. Several important points were not covered by the theory. First of all, it did not, in his opinion, square with Vanderkemp’s personality. The Inspector had a very exalted opinion of his own powers as a reader of character—with considerable justification, it must be admitted—and the more he thought of Vanderkemp’s bearing during their momentous interview at Barcelona, the more satisfied he felt of the traveller’s innocence. He found it hard to believe, further, that a man who had just benefited to the extent of over £30,000 would be able to deny himself at least a very slight betterment in his standard of living. But the real difficulty was to connect Vanderkemp with Miss Winter’s escapade with the sixteen diamonds. How did she receive them? She was in the Savoy building all the time between the theft at Hatton Garden and the traveller’s departure from London, and it was therefore impossible that they could have met. Nor did French think it likely that so dangerous a package would have been entrusted to other hands or to the post.
Here were undoubted objections to the theory, nevertheless French felt a pleasurable glow of excitement as he wondered if they could not be met and if he really had not reached the last lap of his long investigation. He determined that his first action on reaching the Yard would be to put the matter to the test.
Having arrived at this decision, he turned again to Miss Scott.
“I should like cook’s address, please.”