"Lots!" replied Fullaway. "It will draw attention. There'll already be a few thousand amateur detectives looking out for the man who left the French maid dead in Eastbourne Terrace, and a few hundred amateur criminologists racking their brains for a plausible theory of the whole thing. Oh, yes, it's a good thing to arouse public interest, Allerdyke. All that's wanted now is a rousing reward. Have you thought of that?"
"Didn't I mention it to the man at Scotland Yard yesterday?" said Allerdyke. "I'm game to find aught reasonable in the way of brass. But," he added, with a touch of true Yorkshire caution, "I've been thinking that over during the night, and it seems to me that there are two other parties who ought to come in at it, with me, of course. Miss Lennard and the Princess, d'ye see? If they're willing, I am."
"You mean a joint reward for the detection of the murderer and the recovery of the jewels?" suggested Fullaway.
"Well, you can be pretty certain, by now, that the murders and the thefts are all the work of one gang," replied Allerdyke. "So it's long as it's short. These two women want their pearls and their diamonds back—I want to know who killed my cousin James. We're all three in the same boat, really; so if we make up a good, substantial purse between us—what?"
"Good!" agreed Fullaway. "We'll hear what the Princess says when she arrives to-night. I guess we shall all know better where we exactly are when we've heard what she has to say."
"If she's like most women that's lost aught in the way of finery," remarked Allerdyke drily, "she'll have plenty to say."
That night he had abundant opportunity of hearing the Princess Nastirsevitch's views on the situation, freely expressed. He himself fetched Celia Lennard to the conference at New Scotland Yard; they found Fullaway and the Princess already there, in full blast of debate. Allerdyke inspected the new arrival with keen interest and found her a well-preserved, handsome woman of middle-age, sharp, smart, and American to the finger-tips. The official whom they had met before was already questioning her, and for Allerdyke's benefit he repeated what had already transpired.
"The Princess affirms, Mr. Allerdyke, that not a soul but herself and your cousin, Mr. James Allerdyke, knew of this affair," he said. "I am right, am I not, madame," he went on, turning to the Princess, "in saying that not one word of this transaction, or proposed transaction, was ever mentioned by you to any person but Mr. James Allerdyke?"
"To no other person than Mr. James Allerdyke," assented the Princess firmly. "It would have been strange conduct on my part, I think, if I had told anybody else anything about it!—my object, of course, being secrecy. From the moment I first mentioned it to Mr. James Allerdyke until I arrived here just now and met Mr. Fullaway there, I never spoke of the matter to any one!"
The official looked at Allerdyke as if inviting him to ask any question that occurred to him, and Allerdyke immediately brought up that which had been in his mind ever since his discovery of James Allerdyke's pocket-diary.