“The Talisman disappeared; that’s what happened in between. And during the night, we know that Miss Eileen Cressage was out of her room at a time when the Talisman might have been stolen. There’s no denying that, is there? And what happened first thing next morning? Long before half of us were up, she went off to town. And where did Westenhanger run across her in town? Coming out of Starbecks the jewellers, the place where they’ll make advances on any little trinket you’ve no immediate use for. And your cheque was met all right.”
He paused for a moment, and Mrs. Caistor Scorton looked down at him curiously.
“You seem very good at putting two and two together, Mr. Stickney. Do you enjoy it?”
Freddie seemed rather annoyed at the interruption. It ruined the dramatic pause he had planned to make before his summing up.
“Of course I enjoy it,” he replied, rather crossly. “I like using my brains. Well, there’s the case. It seems to me to need more explaining away than we’ve had so far.”
“It’s very ingenious,” said Mrs. Caistor Scorton, in a non-committal tone, “but isn’t there some other possible explanation of things? One mustn’t look at a thing from one side, too much, you know.”
Freddie was not a person who welcomed criticism of his pronouncements; but he felt that his reputation as a man of ideas was at stake. Swiftly his mind reverted to an incident of the previous night.
“There is another possible explanation, I admit,” he said, in a rather grudging tone. “Morchard has plenty of money. A matter of £200 would be nothing to him. Now he’s very keen on Miss Cressage’s looks. I’ve watched him, and I know the signs. Perhaps the money came from him. You said last night that when you saw her she was going towards the bachelors’ wing.”
“I said nothing of the kind,” Mrs. Caistor Scorton interrupted sharply. “I said she was going along the corridor.”
“Which leads to the bachelors’ wing, of course,” persisted Freddie.