“That,” Drake laughed, hastily breaking in, “that was the intention. I arranged for that wireless. Scotland Yard? Well, we at the Yard don’t broadcast what we know, unless we want it known for a damned good reason. I had that wireless sent. Fixed it up in the hour I had between trailing the car to Dip’s and coming aboard here. That was my bombshell.”
“But—” the captain stared at him, puzzled—“how’d you—you didn’t know it was Cray you wanted?”
“What I wanted was a disturbance. If he wasn’t in the business he’d perhaps talk. If he hadn’t talked, I could fulfill that omission and blame it on him. I wanted every manjack aboard here to know that diamonds had been stolen, that Scotland Yard—they don’t sign themselves that way, I might confess—were on the trail. The rest—well, ever throw a rock into a pool? The ripples follow each other to shore. The rest was plain Cray. I’d struck it lucky. Those other messages—he made ’em up, every one.”
“But why—why?” The Old Man was incredulous.
“His game.” Drake laughed. “First half of the voyage, well, Cray was lying low. He knew his job, you see. He figured on passing as the regular wireless man; but he didn’t know his ship, or its company, and he didn’t like that company, when he looked ’em over. So he carried the necklace in his pocket, like a pipe or a handkerchief. Well, the day after that first bombshell of a message came, he felt for the diamonds—and they were gone.”
“Gone?”
“Yes, never mind how.”
Drake got up, walked across to the old skipper of the Cora, flipped one agile hand across his vest and dangled his watch, chain and seals before his eyes.
“Like that,” Drake laughed. “Well, to get on, there he was, this Cray, with those jewels gone and nothing for his pains. So he began to get mysterious messages. Bit by bit suspicion formed, centered, first on this one, then on that one. You played right into his hands, Captain. You had me worried. I was afraid you two would run out of suspects before we made our landfall.”
“You mean he deliberately had me on?” The captain shook his head. “No—if ’twas just theft—but murder—You mean this man let me think we had a murderer aboard, let me know it, when he could have kept it dark—and him the guilty one? Man don’t tie his own hang-man’s knot, mister, not even to get back diamonds.”