Something bright in the hands of one of the police officers attracted my attention. He was examining it by the light of the candles as I peered over his shoulder.
It was a dagger which, in an instant, I recognised as mine!
I felt in my pocket. The sheath was there but the weapon had gone! I was aghast in horror and amazement. I had been forestalled, and the Princess had been murdered with the knife stolen from me!
The officer, after questioning me, took my assumed name and address, explaining that I should be required at the inquest.
In reply to my inquiries, Ivan told me that the Princess, intending to leave for Paris on the morrow, had sent on Nina, her maid, in advance to secure her rooms. At five o’clock, while in the dining-room, he heard the outer door slam, and concluded that his mistress had gone out. Two hours later he entered the bedroom and discovered the crime.
The Executive sat on the following evening and I attended to make my report. It was a mere formality, for the papers were full of the mysterious crime.
“Princess Kochkaryòv is removed,” I said, briefly, when interrogated by Pétroff.
“Thanks to the assistance of Dmitri,” he added grimly.
“Irteneff!” I repeated, glancing at the dark, middle-aged man indicated, who sat with his elbows leaning upon the table.
“Yes,” the man said, laughing, “I knew how difficult it is to assassinate the woman one loves, so I assisted you.”