Fairfax had finished his narrative. Hugh thanked him warmly. Still, he had not learned anything really of importance. There was no evidence that Miss Keane had cheated, or helped others to cheat. The hovering round the card-table was not a particularly suspicious action if taken by itself. She might be signalling to her confederates, of course, but there was no evidence on which to convict her.
A sudden thought struck Murchison which prompted him to put a question to Fairfax.
"She might have been a decoy, to lure rich men to this gambling place, in order that they might be rooked by her accomplices." The middle-aged man shook his head. "I don't think so. She had no scope for that sort of game. Mrs. L'Estrange hardly knew anybody in her own world, for reasons which I daresay could be very satisfactorily explained, I should guess a not too clean or reputable past. She could not get the girl into houses where she would pick up rich men."
"But you say some men came there who played heavily."
"A few," answered Fairfax. "But I always had a notion that Dutton picked those up, in the course of his shady business, a mug here, a mug there, who had a few thousands to throw away either on the Stock Exchange or in gambling. If the flat was run on the crook, and it is even betting it was, I should say the proprietors—or the syndicate, call it what you like—were contented with quite small profits. I daresay a couple of thousand a year would keep Mrs. L'Estrange in luxury, and I suppose she must have had a bit of money of her own."
"And, assuming that they were all in league, Tommy Esmond and others would want their bit," suggested Hugh.
"Certainly," assented Fairfax; "but always granting that the show was run on the crook, it wouldn't be difficult to romp in thirty or forty pounds a night, with even the small players and the occasional mugs who were well-lined. Quite a decent amount to divide at the end of the week."
"Well, I am awfully obliged for all you have told me, Fairfax."
"But it doesn't help you much, eh?" queried the elder man, who detected a certain note of disappointment in his companion's tone.
"Well, candidly, it doesn't, but of course, that is no fault of yours. We may dismiss the L'Estrange business, there is no evidence there. She might have signalled to her confederates or not. It might have been a perfectly innocent action. She didn't play herself, she just hovered round the tables to kill the time."