“I would much sooner not. The whole thing has upset me terribly, as I am sure it has upset us all.”
She leant forward, poured herself out a glass of champagne, and emptied the glass at a draught.
“Captain Preston and Mr. Blenkiron,” she said, “do help yourselves, and you too, Doctor Johnson. I am sure this affair must have given you all a shock.”
Once more Preston and his friend were mingling in the gay throng. Doctor Johnson had left them after thanking them for their services and saying they would no doubt be called to give evidence at the inquest. A little group at one of the tables in the big supper-room were talking in animated tones, and Preston happened to overhear scraps of their conversation.
“Yes, a woman has been arrested ... was arrested ten minutes ago ... the pearls were found in her possession. The man with her ... became furiously indignant, declared he had been with her all the night. Then she was confronted with the owner of the necklace, who swore she had sat beside her at supper ... the thief, or alleged thief, is quite a girl ... yes, I was standing by when they took her mask off....”
“Who is she? Have you any idea?” somebody asked.
“None at all. You can stake your life though, that at a show of this sort there are bound to be professional crooks about. Look at the diamonds here to-night! They must run into fortunes and fortunes. Well, here’s luck to us all, and I hope....”
That was as much as Preston heard and it did not interest him greatly. Since leaving Jessica’s box he had been looking for Yootha, whom he had seen last with Cora Hartsilver. But their box was now empty, from which he concluded they were all dancing. Hopford, too, he had not come across for some time. Preston knew that Hopford and Yootha were engaged for several dances.
In the crowd Preston had lost sight of Blenkiron, and he now threaded his way alone and aimlessly through the little groups of dancers clustered together and resting. The band had become more riotous than ever, the dancing more extravagant and grotesque. And all the while, as he made his way along, he kept thinking of Schomberg and his strange death. Again he saw the masked young man stooping over the seated figure bent forward in the box and apparently leaning against it. The figure had not moved then, neither had it moved during the minutes which elapsed before he and Blenkiron had gone up to the box to ascertain if anything were amiss. Could Schomberg already have been dead when the slim man stood bending over him? If so, then why had the latter not sent for a doctor, or raised the alarm?
And that slim young man, according to Hopford, had been La Planta. Perhaps, though, Hopford had been mistaken. Then he thought of Jessica. How surprised and distressed she had appeared to be when Doctor Johnson had broken to her the news of Schomberg’s death. That she should be was, of course, only natural in the circumstances, and yet——