“No,” said Roger decisively. “The most important thing is to keep all knowledge of those papers secret for the present. No disclosures can bring that poor, unhappy woman back to life; while if the secret information contained in those papers were prematurely divulged God knows what would happen—war, almost to a certainty, and thousands of lives would be sacrificed.”
Grace drew a little sobbing breath, her eyes still intent on his face. She had a curious feeling that he was not speaking to her, but was arguing with some invisible person.
“I don’t believe her visit to Rivercourt Mansions had any connection at all with the murder,” he continued, “except, indeed, that it brought her into the neighbourhood. She was robbed and killed by some loitering ruffian who had watched her—an old hand, doubtless, who, when he found he’d got nothing, got rid of the evidence instantly, very cleverly too—chucked the bag through the window of the cab, and slipped the envelope into the nearest post box.”
“You are sure she had those papers?”
“Absolutely, though I’ve no actual evidence. But I was certain of it from the first, and so, I am convinced, was Sir Robert, though of course he gave no hint of that. But she was the only person except ourselves who could possibly have had access to the keys of the safe.”
“But why should she steal them?”
“That I don’t know; I can only conjecture. You see, I’ve suspected her more or less vaguely for months. She was always coming in and out of the room—the only person who was allowed to do so when I was at work; but Sir Robert adored her, never crossed her in anything, and of course it was impossible for me to raise any objection! She used to come and go as softly as a cat—or a snake. Time after time I’ve been startled to find her close beside me, looking over my shoulder. On Wednesday night, the last time I saw her, she tried to get a look at those very papers, and I was just in time to prevent her. It all sounds very trivial perhaps, but there it is; and of course there was always the feeling that she was an alien. But I really couldn’t define my suspicions—at any rate, not till yesterday, and then not clearly.”
“How did you know she had gone to that place again?”
Again he hesitated, and resumed his restless pacing. Should he tell his wife everything? Yes. She was part of himself now—the better, purer, nobler part. He would have no secrets from her, except such secrets of State as were entrusted to him by his chief; and this was not one of those.