There was only one way in which he could be satisfied, and that way he was going to take as soon as he could find an opportunity. When he once took a thing in hand, he never rested till he got to the bottom of it, being of a determined, not to say a dogged nature.
The opportunity came one morning when Mrs. Morrice started early to lunch with an old friend, living some forty miles out of London. Her maid had been given a holiday till five o’clock, the hour at which her mistress proposed to return, for she was a very kind and considerate employer and frequently showed these small kindnesses to her servants. The coast was clear.
He went upstairs to her dressing-room. The more valuable articles were kept in a safe which had once been used by him, and of which he possessed a duplicate key, unknown to his wife.
Quickly he took the pearl necklace in its case, and put it in a small bag which he had brought up with him for the purpose, then went downstairs, feeling in his honest and upright heart, rather like a thief himself. But, as a matter of fact, he could not rest till he had convincingly tested the truth of that anonymous letter.
He hailed a taxi and drove to a shop, a high-class jeweller and gem-merchant in the neighbourhood of St. James’s to whom he was not known personally as he was at so many Bond Street establishments. He asked to see the proprietor in his private room and asked him his fee for giving him his opinion on what was supposed to be a very fine pearl necklace.
In a very short time he was in possession of the information he sought. The pearls were pronounced to be splendid imitations, likely to deceive anybody except an expert, but worth as many shillings as the original necklace had cost pounds.
His face set like a grim mask, he returned to Deanery Street and replaced the sham gems in the safe. The anonymous letter had told the truth, the writer of it had evidently known what had been going on in his household.
CHAPTER XIX
MISS ALMA BUCKLEY
Miss Alma Buckley did not seem at all anxious for that interview so desired by young Sellars. He had written her a very polite letter, forwarded by her obliging agent, stating that he wished to see her for a few minutes on a private matter which it was difficult to enter into by correspondence, and inviting her to name a day and hour suitable to herself. He had found out that she was appearing nightly at certain suburban music-halls, and judged from this fact that she would appoint a morning or an afternoon.
He waited three days for an answer, but as none came, he dispatched a second missive expressing his fear that his first had miscarried, and begging the favour of a reply by return.