“Very. She went upstairs and changed her evening gown for a stuff dress, which was brought out of the car. Then she came down and joined the others at breakfast.”
“They gave you no indication as to their destination, I suppose?”
“Well, sir, I think they were returning to London, for I heard one of the gentlemen say something about catching the boat-train.”
“They may have meant the Harwich boat-train from the north,” I remarked.
“Very likely, sir. One portion of that train comes through Doncaster in the afternoon to Peterborough and March, while the other comes down to Rugby on the North-Western, and then goes across to Peterborough by way of Market Harborough.”
“Then they may have joined that, and if so they would just about be leaving Parkeston Quay by now!”
“If so, the police are certain to spot them,” laughed the waiter. “They’re wanted for the theft of a princess’s jewels, they say.”
What should I do? It was now long past ten o’clock, and I could not possibly arrive at Parkeston before early morning. Besides, if they had really gone there, they would, no doubt, be arrested. The man with the pimply face whose description so closely tallied with that of Reckitt, was surely too clever a criminal to run his neck into a noose by going to any port of embarkation. Therefore I concluded that whatever had been said at table had been said with the distinct object of misleading the waiter. The very manner in which the diamonds had been stolen showed a cunning and a daring unsurpassed. Such men were certainly not easily trapped.
My sole thought was of Sylvia. I could not bring myself to believe that she had wilfully forsaken her home and her husband. Upon her, I felt confident, some species of blackmail had been levied, and she had been forced away from me by reasons beyond her control.