She held it out to me.
It was an ordinary round tin cylinder, such
as films are packed in for the tropics. I took it
with trembling hand, but even as I did so my
heart leapt. It was noticeably heavier than it
should have been.
With shaking fingers I peeled off the strip
of adhesive plaster that kept it air-tight. I
pulled off the lid, and a stream of dull glassy
pebbles rolled on to the bed.
"Pebbles," I said, keenly disappointed.
"Pebbles?" cried Suzanne.
The ring in her voice excited me.
"Pebbles? No, Anne, not pebbles!
Diamonds^
150
15
DIAMONDS!
I stared, fascinated, at the glassy
heap on the bunk. I picked up one
which, but for the weight, might have been a
fragment of broken bottle.
"Are you sure, Suzanne?"
"Oh, yes, my dear. I've seen rough
diamonds too often to have any doubts.
They're beauties too, Anne--and some of
them are unique, I should say. There's a
history behind these."
"The history we heard to-night," I cried.
"You mean----?"
"Colonel Race's story. It can't be a coincidence.
He told it for a purpose."
"To see its effect, you mean?"
I nodded.
"Its effect on Sir Eustace?"
"Yes."
But, even as I said it, a doubt assailed me. Was it Sir Eustace who had been subjected to
a test, or had the story been told for my benefit? I remembered the impression I had
151
received on that former night of having been
deliberately "pumped." For some reason or
other. Colonel Race was suspicious. But
where did he come in? What possible
connection could he have with the affair?
"Who is Colonel Race?" I asked.
"That's rather a question," said Suzanne.
"He's pretty well known as a big-game
hunter, and, as you heard him say tonight, he was a distant cousin of Sir Laurence
Eardsley. I've never actually met him until
this trip. He journeys to and from Africa a
good deal. There's a general idea that he does
Secret Service work. I don't know whether
it's true or not. He's certainly rather a
mysterious creature."
"I suppose he came into a lot of money as
Sir Laurence Eardsley's heir?"
"My dear Anne, he must be rolling. You
know, he'd be a splendid match for you."
"I can't have a good go at him with you
aboard the ship." I said, laughing. "Oh, these
married women!"
"We do have a pull," murmured Suzanne
complacently. "And everybody knows that I
am absolutely devoted to Clarence--my
husband, you know. It's so safe and pleasant
to make love to a devoted wife."
152
"It must be very nice for Clarence to be
married to someone like you."
"Well, I'm wearing to live with! Still, he
can always escape to the Foreign Office,
where he fixes his eyeglass in his eye, and
goes to sleep in a big arm-chair. We might
cable him to tell us all he knows about Race. I
love sending cables. And they annoy Clarence
so. He always says a letter would have done as
well. I don't suppose he'd tell us anything
though. He is so frightfully discreet. That's
what makes him so hard to live with for long
on end. But let us go on with our matchmaking.
I'm sure Colonel Race is very
attracted to you, Anne. Give him a couple of
glances from those wicked eyes of yours, and
the deed is done. Everyone gets engaged on
board ship. There's nothing else to do."
"I don't want to get married."
"Don't you?" said Suzanne. "Why not? I
love being married--even to Clarence!"
I disdained her flippancy.
"What I want to know is," I said with
determination, "what has Colonel Race got to
do with this? He's in it somewhere."
"You don't think it was mere chance, his
telling that story?"
"No, I don't," I said decidedly. "He was
!^ 153
watching us all narrowly. You remember,
some of the diamonds were recovered, not all.
Perhaps these are the missing ones—or
perhaps——"
"Perhaps what?"
I did not answer directly.
"I should like to know," I said, "what
became of the other young man. Not
Eardsley but—what was his name?—Lucas!"
"We're getting some light on the thing,
anyway. It's the diamonds all these people are
after. It must have been to obtain possession
of the diamonds that "The Man in the Brown
Suit' killed Nadina."
"He didn't kill her," I said sharply.
"Of course he killed her. Who else could
have done so?"
"I don't know. But I'm sure he didn't kill
her."
"He went into that house three minutes
after her and came out as white as a sheet."
"Because he found her dead."
"But nobody else went in."
"Then the murderer was in the house
already, or else he got in some other way.
There's no need for him to pass the lodge, he
could have climbed over the wall."
Suzanne glanced at me sharply.
154
FR1;" 'The Man in the Brown Suit,5 " she
mused. "Who was he, I wonder? Anyway, he
was identical with the 'doctor' in the Tube.
He would have had time to remove his makeup
and follow the woman to Marlow. She and
Carton were to have met there, they both had
an order to view the same house, and if they
took such elaborate precautions to make their
meeting appear accidental they must have
suspected they were being followed. All the
same. Carton did not know that his shadower
was 'The Man in the Brown Suit." When he
recognized him, the shock was so great that
he lost his head completely and stepped back
on to the line. That all seems pretty clear,
don't you think so, Anne!"
I did not reply.
"Yes, that's how it was. He took the paper
from the dead man, and in his hurry to get
away he dropped it. Then he followed the
woman to Marlow. What did he do when he
left there, when he had killed her--or, according to you, found her dead? Where did
he go?"
Still I said nothing.
"I wonder, now," said Suzanne musingly. "Is it possible that he induced Sir Eustace
Pedler to bring him on board as his secretary?
TMITBS11 155
It would be a unique chance of getting safely
out of England, and dodging the hue and cry.
But how did he square Sir Eustace? It looks
as though he had some hold over him."
"Or over Pagett," I suggested in spite of
myself.
"You don't seem to like Pagett, Anne. Sir
Eustace says he's a most capable and hardworking
young
man. And, really, he may be
for all we know against him. Well, to
continue my surmises. Rayburn is 'The Man
in the Brown Suit.' He had read the paper he
dropped. Therefore, misled by the dot as you
were, he attempts to reach Cabin 17 at one
o'clock on the 22nd, having previously tried
to get possession of the cabin through Pagett.
On the way there somebody knifes him----"
"Who?" I interpolated.
"Chichester. Yes, it all fits in. Cable to
Lord Nasby that you have found 'The Man
in the Brown Suit,' and your fortune's made, Anne!"
"There are several things you've
overlooked."
"What things? Rayburn's got a scar, I
know--but a scar can be faked easily enough.
He's the right height and build. What's the
156
description of a head with which you
pulverized them at Scotland Yard?"
I trembled. Suzanne was a well-educated,
well-read woman, but I prayed that she might
not be conversant with technical terms of
anthropology.
"Dolichocephalic," I said lightly.
Suzanne looked doubtful.
"Was that it?"
"Yes. Long-headed, you know. A head
whose width is less than 75 per cent of its
length," I explained fluently.
There was a pause. I was just beginning to
breathe freely when Suzanne said suddenly:
"What's the opposite?"
"What do you mean--the opposite?"
"Well, there must be an opposite. What do
you call the heads whose breadth is more than
75 per cent of their length?"
"Brachycephalic," I murmured unwillingly.
"That's it. I thought that was what you
said."
"Did I? It was a slip of the tongue. I meant
dolichocephalic," I said with all the
assurance I could muster.
Suzanne looked at me searchingly. Then
she laughed.
157
"You lie very well, gipsy girl. But it will
save time and trouble now if you tell me all
about it."
"There's nothing to tell," I said unwillingly.
"Isn't there?" said Suzanne gently.
"I suppose I shall have to tell you," I said
slowly. "I'm not ashamed of it. You can't be
ashamed of something that just--happens to
you. That's what he did. He was detestable- rude and ungrateful--but that I think I
understand. It's like a dog that's been chained
up--or badly treated--it'll bite anybody.
That's what he was like--bitter and snarling.
I don't know why I care--but I do. I care
horribly. Just seeing him has turned my
whole life upside-down. I love him. I want
him. I'll walk all over Africa barefoot till I
find him, slave for him, steal for him, even
beg or borrow for him! There--now you
know!"
Suzanne looked at me for a long time.
"You're very un-English, gipsy girl," she
said at last. "There's not a scrap of the
sentimental about you. I've never met anyone
who was at once so practical and so
passionate. I shall never care for anyone like
that--mercifully for me--and yet--and yet I
158
envy you, gipsy girl. It's something to be able
to care. Most people can't. But what a mercy
for your little doctor man that you didn't
marry him. He doesn't sound at all the sort of
individual who would enjoy keeping high
explosive in the house! So there's to be no
cabling to Lord Nasby?"
I shook my head.
"And yet you believe him to be innocent?"
"I also believe that innocent people can be
hanged."
"H'm! yes. But, Anne dear, you can face
facts, face them now. In spite of all you say,
he may have murdered this woman."
"No," I said. "He didn't."
"That's sentiment."
"No, it isn't. He might have killed her. He
may even have followed her there with that
idea in his mind. But he wouldn't take a bit of
black cord and strangle her with it. If he'd
done it, he would have strangled her with his
bare hands."
Suzanne gave a little shiver. Her eyes
narrowed appreciatively.
"H'm! Anne, I am beginning to see why
you find this young man of yours so
attractive!"
159
16
I GOT an opportunity of tackling Colonel
Race on the following morning. The
auction of the sweep had just been concluded, and we walked up and down the deck
together.
"How's the gipsy this morning? Longing
for land and her caravan."
I shook my head.
"Now that the sea is behaving so nicely, I
feel I should like to stay on it for ever and
ever."
"What enthusiasm!"
"Well, isn't it lovely this morning?"
We leant together over the rail. It was a
glassy calm. The sea looked as though it had
been oiled. There were great patches of
colour on it, blue, pale green, emerald,
purple and deep orange, like a cubist picture.
There was an occasional flash of silver that
showed the flying fish. The air was moist and
warm, almost sticky. Its breath was like a
perfumed caress.
"That was a very interesting story you told
160
us last night," I said, breaking the silence.
"Which one?"
"The one about the diamonds."
"I believe women are always interested in
diamonds."
"Of course we are. By the way, what
became of the other young man? You said
there were two of them."
"Young Lucas? Well, of course, they
couldn't prosecute one without the other, so
he went scot-free too."
"And what happened to him—eventually,
I mean? Does anyone know?"
Colonel Race was looking straight ahead of
him out to sea. His face was as devoid of
expression as a mask, but I had an idea that
he did not like my questions. Nevertheless,
he replied readily enough.
"He went to the War and acquitted himself
bravely. He was reported missing and
wounded—believed killed."
That told me what I wanted to know. I
asked no more. But more than ever I
wondered how much Colonel Race knew.
The part he was playing in all this puzzled
me.
One other thing I did. That was to
interview the night steward. With a little
161
financial encouragement, I soon got him to
talk.
"The lady wasn't frightened, was she miss?
It seemed a harmless sort of joke. A bet, or so
I understood."
I got it all out of him, little by little. On the
voyage from Cape Town to England one of
the passengers had handed him a roll of films
with instructions that they were to be
dropped on to the bunk in Cabin 71 at 1 a.m.
on January 22nd on t
he outward journey. A
lady would be occupying the cabin, and the
affair was described as a bet. I gathered that
the steward had been liberally paid for his
part in the transaction. The lady's name had
not been mentioned. Of course, as Mrs. Blair
went straight into Cabin 71, interviewing the
purser as soon as she got on board, it never
occurred to the steward that she was not the
lady in question. The name of the passenger
who had arranaged the transaction was
Carton, and his description tallied exactly
with that of the man killed on the Tube.
So one mystery, at all events, was cleared
up, and the diamonds were obviously the key
to the whole situation.
Those last days on the Kilmorden seemed
to pass very quickly. As we drew nearer and
162
nearer to Cape Town, I was forced to
consider carefully my future plans. There
were so many people I wanted to keep an eye
on. Mr. Chichester, Sir Eustace and his
secretary, and--yes. Colonel Race! What was
I to do about it? Naturally it was Chichester
who had first claim on my attention. Indeed,
I was on the point of reluctantly dismissing
Sir Eustace and Mr. Pagett from their
position of suspicious characters, when a
chance conversation awakened fresh doubts
in my mind.
I had not forgotten Mr. Pagett's incomprehensible
emotion at the mention of Florence.
On the last evening on board we were all
sitting on deck and Sir Eustace addressed a
perfectly innocent question to his secretary. I
forget exactly what it was, something to do
with railway delays in Italy, but at once I
noticed that Mr. Pagett was displaying the
same uneasiness which had caught my
attention before. When Sir Eustace claimed
Mrs. Blair for a dance, I quickly moved into
the chair next to the secretary. I was
determined to get to the bottom of the matter.
"I have always longed to go to Italy," I
said. "And especially to Florence. Didn't you
enjoy it very much there?"
163
"Indeed I did. Miss Beddingfield. If you
will excuse me, there is some correspondence
of Sir Eustace's that——"
I took hold of him firmly by his coat sleeve.
"Oh, you mustn't run away!" I cried with
the skittish accent of an elderly dowager.
"I'm sure Sir Eustace wouldn't like you to
leave me alone with no one to talk to. You
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