These things were immaterial now, but he indexed them as a guide for future use.
Lady Dyke’s motive for that secret visit to Raleigh Mansions—that was the key to the mystery. But how to discover it? Who was her confidant? To whom could he turn for possible enlightenment? It was useless to broach the matter again to her husband. The baronet and his wife had been friends sharing the same ménage rather than husband and wife. Her relatives had already been appealed to in vain. They knew nothing of the slightest value in this search for truth.
In this train of thought the name of Jane Harding cropped up. She was the personal maid of the deceased lady. She had sharp eyes and quick wits. Her queer antics shortly after the inquest were not forgotten. Here at least was a possibility of light if the girl would speak.
If she refused what could be her motive?
Anyhow it was worth while to make a fresh effort. Early in the afternoon he called at the stage-door of the Jollity Theatre.
“Is Miss Marie le Marchant still employed here?” he asked the attendant.
“I dunno,” was the careless answer.
“Well, think hard,” said the barrister, laying a half-crown on the battered blotting-pad which is an indispensable part of the furniture in the letter bureau of a theatre.
“Yes, sir, I believe she is, but she has been away on a week’s leave.”