Still turning the idea over in his mind he went down the next Saturday to Halford, to spend, on the earnest invitation of Lois, the weekend with the Drews.
Chapter X.
A Woman’s Wit
After dinner on that Saturday evening, Lois Drew had a long conversation with her cousin, James Daunt. She waited until he was seated in the most comfortable chair in the drawing-room with his cigar well under way, and then she spoke of the subject next her heart.
‘Tell me, Jimmy,’ she begged, ‘just what you really think. I want to understand exactly what we have to meet.’
He told her. Directly and without any attempt to gloss over the uglier facts, he told her all he knew. She listened in silence for the most part, but occasionally interjected shrewd, pertinent questions. Jimmy, who knew and respected his cousin’s intellect, yet marvelled at her grip, her power of letting go irrelevant details, and the unhesitating way in which she went straight to the essential heart of the various points. When he had finished she remained silent for a considerable time.
‘It seems to me then,’ she said at last, ‘that Austin’s suggestion must be the truth—that the murderer forged the notes purporting to be from me, and which brought Austin to the Abbey that night, that he waited for Austin’s arrival at the Old Ferry, that either he had an accomplice there or he himself was disguised as Mrs Franklyn’s servant, that on Austin’s leaving for the Abbey he made himself up to look like Austin, that he rowed to the boathouse, committed the murder, and returned the boat to the Old Ferry before Austin got back. What do you think, Jimmy?’
‘It seems a possible defence.’
‘It seems more than that; it seems to be what happened. If so, let us consider what that teaches us about the murderer. Several things, I think. Tell me if I go wrong. Firstly, he must have had a strong motive for Sir William’s death. Secondly, he must have known all about the family—Sir William’s habits, the lie of Luce Manor, the household arrangements, and that sort of thing. Thirdly, he must have been acquainted with Austin, and his house and habits, and fourthly, he must not only have been aware of my existence and friendship with Austin, but he must have had my handwriting to copy. Surely there can’t be many persons in the world to whom all these conditions apply?’
‘One would say not,’ Daunt returned slowly. ‘It’s very unfortunate, of course, but you must see how the prosecution will use all these points you bring up—every one of them can be turned against Austin.’
‘I know, but that’s only wasting time. The fact that Austin’s innocence rules him out surely makes the search for the real murderer easier?’