But though they discussed at length every detail of the story, he soon became aware that Jean had nothing to say that threw any light on the mystery.
“You suspect no one?” he asked at last, looking at her rather hard. “There is no secret thought lying at the back of your mind?”
“No,” she answered very gravely. “I suspect no one, and, what is more, I know Mr. Garlett does not either.”
Kentworthy gave her a long, measuring look. He was wondering whether she could be trusted with a secret. Finally he made up his mind that he would run the risk.
“Did Dr. Maclean tell you what first caused the Home Office to take action?” he asked.
“He doesn’t know!” she exclaimed. “Only the other day my aunt was saying she’d give anything to find out what had caused those first inquiries as to Mrs. Garlett’s death.”
“Your uncle is a man of his word,” said the detective briefly. “I myself told him what started the whole business, but I made him promise not to pass the knowledge on. However, I’m now going to tell you the secret, and I must ask you to make me the same promise that he made me.”
She looked at him with wide-open eyes, and then he said in a hesitating voice:
“Mr. Garlett has some bitter enemy, some one who, as soon as the news of his forthcoming marriage to you had begun to leak out in the neighbourhood, formed, as I believe, an infamous plot to bring him to disgrace.”
“A bitter enemy?” faltered Jean.