“No,” he answered sadly. “I think not. The assassination of that woman tells me that the conspiracy is a more daring and formidable one than I had even imagined.”
“But what connexion could Marigold or Logan have had with the affair?” I asked. “What is your theory? Why did they travel there in secret? If Marigold was to be their victim, then I could understand it; but she was not.”
“It seems evident she was taken out to Milan by Logan in order to meet Marie in secret,” he said.
“But if the murder was not pre-arranged, why should they have taken possession of a dwelling that was not their own? That fact, in itself, shows that their object was a sinister one,” I argued.
“Stanchester believes that his wife has been at Bray with her sister Sibyl. He has no idea she’s been abroad.”
“And Logan? What of him?”
“I know nothing,” he declared. “He is probably still abroad. My own idea is that he crossed the Channel in order to meet Marigold and escort her to Italy.”
“Then the affair is as great a mystery as it ever was?” I remarked with dissatisfaction. I had risked my life and narrowly escaped being placed on trial for murder—all to no purpose.
“Greater,” he said. “For my own part I cannot see what they’ve gained by sealing Marie’s lips. I know,” he added, “that Belotto made an attempt upon her during her stay at the farm in this vicinity, but they were prevented.”
“Who prevented them?” I inquired eagerly, as this was the first time he had admitted knowledge of their concealment at the farm to which Pink had been called on that fateful night.