“I think that even then I was conscious of a sense of gratification at the way he took that ultimatum, Mr. Cleek, for instead of whining like a whipped cur, he pulled himself up straight and strong, clicked his heels together, and said very quietly, ‘All right, sir, I’ll take you at your word. Thank you for past favours. Good-bye!’ and then walked out of the room. That was the last I have seen or heard of him.”
“H’m! Leave the house, did he?”
“Yes—but not then. That was a few minutes before seven. A servant saw him on the top landing coming out of his own room with something wrapped up in a parcel, after that. And another, who was busy cleaning up in the lower hall, saw him come down and go out at ten minutes past.”
“And in the meantime, the Ladder of Light had vanished?”
“Yes. After Henry had left the boudoir I had a few minutes’ heated argument with Lady Leake; then, remembering the work I had in hand, I left the necklace in her charge and hurried away to rig up a temporary workshop. It was about twenty minutes past seven when I finished doing that, and went back to Lady Leake’s boudoir to get the jewel. I found her in a state of the wildest excitement, flying about the room like an insane woman and searching everywhere. The necklace was gone! Only for one single minute of time had it been out of her sight, yet in that minute it had vanished, utterly and completely, and there was not a trace of it to be found anywhere.”
“H’m! Just so! Case gone, too, Sir Mawson?”
“No! That was still there, lying on her dressing-table, but it was empty.”
“I see. So, then, it could not have been that that was wrapped up in the parcel your son was seen carrying. Anybody in that room after Sir Mawson left you, your ladyship?”
“Not a living soul, Mr. Cleek.”
“Could no one have stolen it without your knowledge?”