Sally held out her small hands. “Please! What did you say in that telegram?”
“‘Lomas, Scotland Yard. Jewel robbery Colonel Beach’s house curious features tell post office stop delivery registered packet posted Cranston this morning nine examine contents Reginald Fortune Cranston Regis.’”
“I don’t understand.”
“She did. Sorry to meddle with anyone in your house. Colonel, but she would have it. You won’t have any trouble.”
“But what’s the woman done?” the Colonel cried.
“Well, you know, she’s been led into temptation. When she thought burglars had taken her brooch it seemed to her that she might as well recover from the insurance people for something else too. That’s the worst of playing at crime, Mrs. Beach. You never know who won’t take it seriously. What made me cast an eye at Mrs. Faulks was her saying last night that she wasn’t sure whether she had lost anything else. I can’t imagine Mrs. Faulks not sure about anything. She’s sure she’s an injured woman now. And I’ll swear she always has an inventory of all her jeweller’s shop in her head.”
“She has,” said Alice Beach pathetically. “You should hear her talk of her jewels.”
“Heaven forbid. But you see, Miss Winslow, it’s the old story, you criminals always try to be too clever. She thought it wouldn’t be enough to say she’d lost her diamonds. She wanted them well out of the way so that the police could search and not find them. So she scurried off to the post office and sent them away in a registered packet. Thus, as you criminals will, underratin’ the intelligence of the simple policeman. My man Sam was looking out to see if anyone did anything unusual this morning and he observed Mrs. Faulks’s manœuvres at the post office——”
“And you had her cold!” Cosdon cried.
“Yes. Yes, a sad story.”