“Well, we can talk of that afterwards. I think, Mr. Cheyne, that Mr. Speedwell has made us a satisfactory offer. He says he will tell us everything he knows. For my part I am obliged to him for that, as he is not bound to say anything at all. I think you will agree that we ought to thank him for the position he is taking up, and to hear what he has to say. Now, Speedwell, if you are ready. Take a cigar first, and make yourself comfortable.”
“Thank you, Mr. French. I am always glad, as you know, sir, to assist the Yard or the police. I haven’t much to tell you, but here is the whole of it.”
He lit his cigar, settled himself in his chair, and began to speak.
Chapter XIV.
The Clue of the Clay-marked Shoe
“You know, Mr. French,” said Speedwell, “about my being called in by the manager of the Edgecombe in Plymouth when Mr. Cheyne was drugged? Mr. Cheyne has told you about that, sir?” French nodded and the other went on: “Then I need only tell you what Mr. Cheyne presumably does not know. I may just explain before beginning that I came into contact with Mr. Jesse, the manager, over some diamonds which were lost by a visitor to the hotel and which I had the good fortune to recover.
“The first point that struck me about Mr. Cheyne’s little affair was, How did the unknown man know Mr. Cheyne was going to lunch at that hotel on that day? I found out from Mr. Cheyne that he hadn’t mentioned his visit to Plymouth to anyone outside of his own household, and I found out from Mrs. and Miss Cheyne that they hadn’t either. But Miss Cheyne said it had been discussed at lunch, and that gave me the tip. If these statements were all O.K. it followed that the leakage must have been through the servants and I had a chat with both, just to see what they were like. The two were quite different. The cook was good-humored and stupid and easy going, and wouldn’t have the sense to run a conspiracy with anyone, but the parlormaid was an able young woman as well up as any I’ve met. So it looked as if it must be her.
“Then I thought over the burglary, and it seemed to me that the burglars must have got inside help, and if so, there again Susan was the girl. Of course there was the tying up, but that would be the natural way to work a blind. I noticed that the cook’s wrists were swollen, but Susan’s weren’t marked at all, so I questioned the cook, and I got a bit of information out of her that pretty well proved the thing. She said she heard the burglars ring and heard Susan go to the door. But she said it was three or four minutes before Susan screamed. Now if Susan’s story was true she would have screamed far sooner than that, for, according to her, the men had only asked could they write a letter when they seized her. So that again looked like Susan. You follow me, sir?”
Again French nodded, while Cheyne broke in: “You never told me anything of that.”
Speedwell smiled once more his crafty smile.
“Well, no, Mr. Cheyne, I didn’t mention it certainly. It was only a theory, you understand. I thought I’d wait till I was sure.