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"I thought it might be," said Audrey, sitting down, but not offering seats.
"Well, Mr. Hurley, after all your running after Miss Susan Foley, don't you think it's rather unfair to say horrid things about a respectable man like Aguilar? You were funny about that stout wife of yours last time I saw you, but you must remember that Aguilar can't be funny about his wife, because he hasn't got one."
"I really don't know what you're driving at, miss," said Mr. Hurley simply.
"Well, what were you driving at when you followed me all the way to London the other day?"
"Madam," said Mr. Hurley, "I didn't follow you to London. I only happened to arrive at Charing Cross about twenty seconds after you, that was all. As a matter of fact, nearly half of the way you were following me."
"Well, I hope you were satisfied."
"I only want to know one thing," the detective retorted. "Am I speaking to Mrs. Olivia Moncreiff?"
Audrey hesitated, glancing at Madame Piriac, who, in company with the vast Inspector Keeble, was carefully inspecting the floor. She invoked wisdom and sagacity from heaven, and came to a decision.
"Not that I know of," she answered.
"Then, if you please, who are you?"
"What!" exclaimed Audrey. "You're in the village of Moze itself and you ask who I am. Everybody knows me. My name is Audrey Moze, of Flank Hall, Moze, Ess.e.x. Any child in Moze Street will tell you that. Inspector Keeble knows as well as anybody."
Madame Piriac proceeded steadily with the inquiry into the carpet. Audrey felt her heart beating.
"Unmarried?" pursued the detective.
"Most decidedly," said Audrey with conviction.
"Then what's the meaning of that ring on your finger, if you don't mind my asking?" the detective continued.
Certainly Audrey was fl.u.s.tered, but only for a moment.
"Mr. Hurley," said she; "I wear it as a protection from men of all ages who are too enterprising."
She spoke archly, with humour; but now there was no answering humour in the features of Mr. Hurley, who seemed to be a changed man, to be indeed no longer even an Irishman. And Audrey grew afraid. Did he, after all, know of her share in the Blue City enterprise? She had long since persuaded herself that the police had absolutely failed to connect her with that affair, but now uncertainty was born in her mind.
"I must search the house," said the detective.
"What for?"
"I have to arrest a woman named Jane Foley," answered Mr. Hurley, adding somewhat grimly: "The name will be known to ye, I'm thinking.... And I have reason to believe that she is now concealed on these premises."
The directness of the blow was terrific. It was almost worse than the blow itself. And Audrey now believed everything that she had ever heard or read about the miraculous ingenuity of detectives. Still, she did not regard herself as beaten, and the thought of the yacht lying close by gave her a dim feeling of security. If she could only procure delay!...
"I'm not going to let you search my house," she said angrily. "I never heard of such a thing! You've got no right to search my house."
"Oh yes, I have!" Mr. Hurley insisted.
"Well, let me see your paper--I don't know what you call it. But I know you can't do anything-without a paper. Otherwise any bright young-man might walk into my house and tell me he meant to search it. Keeble, I'm really surprised at _you_."
Inspector Keeble blushed.
"I'm very sorry, miss," said he contritely. "But the law's the law. Show the lady your search-warrant, Mr. Hurley." His voice resembled himself.
Mr. Hurley coughed. "I haven't got a search-warrant yet," he remarked. "I didn't expect----"
"You'd better go and get one, then," said Audrey, calculating how long it would take three women to transport themselves from the house to the yacht, and perpending upon the probable behaviour of Mr. Gilman under a given set of circ.u.mstances.
"I will," said Mr. Hurley. "And I shan't be long. Keeble, where is the nearest justice of the peace?... You'd better stay here or hereabouts."
"I got to go to the station to sign on my three constables," Inspector Keeble protested awkwardly, looking at his watch, which also resembled himself.
"You'd better stay here or hereabouts," repeated Mr. Hurley, and he moved towards the door. Inspector Keeble, too, moved towards the door.
Audrey let them get into the pa.s.sage, and then she was vouchsafed a new access of inspiration.
"Mr. Hurley," she called, in a bright, unoffended tone. "After all, I see no reason why you shouldn't search the house. I don't really want to put you to any unnecessary trouble. It is annoying, but I'm not going to be annoyed." The ingenuous young creature expected Mr. Hurley to be at once disarmed and ashamed by this kind offer. She was wrong. He was evidently surprised, but he gave no evidence of shame or of the sudden death in his brain of all suspicions.
"That's better," he said calmly. "And I'm much obliged."
"I'll come with you," said Audrey. "Madame Piriac," she addressed Hortense with averted eyes. "Will you excuse me for a minute or two while I show these gentlemen the house?" The fact was that she did not care just then to be left alone with Madame Piriac.
"Oh! I beg you, darling! "Madame Piriac granted the permission with overpowering sweetness.
The procedure of Mr. Hurley was astonis.h.i.+ng to Audrey; nay, it was unnerving. First he locked the front door and the garden door and pocketed the keys. Then he locked the drawing-room on the pa.s.sage side and pocketed that key. He instructed Inspector Keeble to remain in the hall at the foot of the stairs. He next went into the kitchen and the sculleries and locked the outer doors in that quarter. Then he descended to the cellars, with Audrey always in his wake. Having searched the cellars and the ground floor, he went upstairs, and examined in turn all the bedrooms with a thoroughness and particularity which caused Audrey to blush. He left nothing whatever to chance, and no dust sheet was undisturbed. Audrey said no word. The detective said no word. But Audrey kept thinking: "He is getting nearer to the tank-room." A small staircase led to the attic floor, upon which were only servants' bedrooms and the tank-room. After he had mounted this staircase and gone a little way along the pa.s.sage he swiftly and without warning dashed back and down the staircase. But nothing seemed to happen, and he returned. The three doors of the three servants' bedrooms were all ajar. Mr. Hurley pa.s.sed each of them with a careless glance within. At the end of the corridor, in obscurity, was the door of the tank-room.
"What's this?" he asked abruptly. And he knocked nonchalantly on the door of the tank-room.
Audrey was acutely alarmed lest Jane Foley should respond, thinking the knock was that of a friend. She saw how idiotic she had been not to warn Jane by means of loud conversation with the detective.
"That's the tank-room," she said loudly. "I'm afraid it's locked."
"Oh!" murmured Mr. Hurley negligently, and he turned the searchlight of his gaze upon the three bedrooms, which he examined as carefully as he had examined anything in the house. The failure to discover in any cupboard or corner even the shadow of a human being did not appear to discourage him in the slightest degree. In the third bedroom--that is to say, the one nearest the head of the stairs and farthest from the tank-room--he suddenly beckoned to Audrey, who was standing in the doorway. She went within the room and he pushed the door to, without, however, quite shutting it.
"Now about the tank-room, Miss Moze," he began quietly. "You say it's locked?"
"Yes," said the quaking Audrey.
"As a matter of form I'd better just look in. Will you kindly let me have the key?"
"I can't," said Audrey.
"Why not?"
Audrey acquired tranquillity as she went on: "It's at Frinton. Friends of mine there keep a punt on Mozewater, and I let them store the sail and things in the tank-room. There's plenty of room. I give them the key because that's more satisfactory. The tank-room isn't wanted at all, you see, while I'm away from home."
"Who are these friends?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Spatt," said Audrey at a venture.