“There are more wonders to come. Tell me how your necklace was lost, please.”
“I don’t know. On the afternoon of July fifth I left Hedgerow House rather hurriedly. My maid, whom I trust implicitly, was to follow with my trunks, including my jewel case. She arrived, a day later, with part of the jewels missing, and a note from Father Blair saying that there had been a robbery, but that I was to say nothing of it.”
“July fifth,” remarked Kent with his lids dropped over the keen gaze of his eyes. “It was the following morning that the unknown body was found on the beach near Mr.—near the Nook.”
Her face showed no comprehension. “I have heard nothing of any body,” she replied.
“Did none of the talk come to your ears of a strange woman found at Lonesome Cove?”
“No. Wait, though. After the funeral, one of the cousins began to speak of a mystery, and Mr. Blair shut him off.”
“Your necklace was taken from that body.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Was she the thief?” she asked eagerly.
“The person who took the necklace from the body is the one for whom I am searching. Now, Mrs. Blair, will you tell me, in a word, how your husband met his death?”
Her gaze did not falter from his, but a look of suffering came into her eyes, and the hands in her lap closed and opened, and closed again.