Footsteps behind Judith caused her to whirl around, and she saw Richards stop behind her chair.
“I couldn’t get away any sooner,” he explained. “Your mother detained me in the dining room. Good-morning, Ferguson; has my wife told you of the disappearance of her jewelry?”
“Yes, Major, and I was just asking her for details to aid in identifying it at the pawn shops,” Ferguson again referred to the list he was holding. “What about that locket, Mrs. Richards?”
Judith closed her mesh bag with a snap and the quick tilt upward of her chin indicated to Richards, who had grown to know each mood and tense, that she had reached a sudden decision.
“The locket bore the word ‘Mizpah,’ in raised lettering,” she stated. “Otherwise it is insignificant in appearance.”
“Do you attach any particular value to it?” questioned Ferguson.
“No money value,” she responded quietly, and the detective looked sharply at her.
“I see; you mean it is a trinket of importance from sentiment only,” he commented.
It was Major Richards who answered and not his wife. “You’ve hit it,” he laughed. “I presume Mrs. Richards values the locket more highly than rubies.”
Judith looked at him oddly before turning to the detective. “I have a request to make of you, Mr. Ferguson,” she began, without preface. “It is that you make no mention of the loss of my jewelry to any one. I am convinced that if we conduct the search in secrecy, the thief will betray himself.”