“Yes,” I replied. “You were right about those cigars.”
“Of course I was.”
“Did you get those of yours?”
“Oh, yes. Just got them from my top coat. Have one?”
“Thank you.”
I accepted the weed, but I knew that it didn’t come from his coat.
“Madame,” said I to Mrs. Welton, drawing her aside a few moments later. “I have a confession to make!”
“What is it, Mr. Went?” She was all smiles as she put the question, and when I informed her that I was a detective she didn’t look a bit disturbed.
“Well, sir, what is it?” she asked. “I knew a detective was in the house, but I confess I did not suspect you.”
“I want you to go immediately and look at your jewel case,” I whispered.