“Robbery, probably. We have no idea what were Yvonne’s winnings that night—or of the money she had in her bag.”
“Yes, we do know,” was The Sparrow’s reply. “According to the police report, Yvonne, on her return home, went to her room, carrying her bag, which she placed upon her dressing-table. Then, after removing her cloak and hat, she went downstairs again and out on to the veranda. A few minutes later the young man was announced. High words were heard by old Cataldi, and then a shot.”
“And Yvonne’s bag?”
“It was found where she had left it. In it were three thousand eight hundred francs, all in notes.”
“Yet Franklyn told me that he had heard how Yvonne won quite a large sum that night.”
“She might have done so—and have lost the greater part of it,” The Sparrow replied.
“On the other hand, what more feasible than that the old manservant, watching her place it there, abstracted the bulk of the money—a large sum, no doubt—and afterwards, in order to conceal his crime, shot his mistress in such circumstances as to place the onus of the crime upon her midnight visitor?”
“That the affair was very cleverly planned there is no doubt,” said The Sparrow. “There is a distinct intention to fasten the guilt upon young Henfrey, because he alone would have a motive for revenge for the death of his father. Of that fact the man or woman who fired the shot was most certainly aware. How could Cataldi have known of it?”
“I certainly believe the Italian robbed his mistress and afterwards attempted to murder her,” Howell insisted.
“He might rob his mistress, certainly. He might even have robbed her of considerable sums systematically,” The Sparrow assented. “The maids told the police that Mademoiselle’s habit was to leave her bag with her winnings upon the dressing-table while she went downstairs and took a glass of wine.”