Mr. Campion, whose hair was standing on end, had a moment of inspiration. “This absurd rigmarole about Taunton getting Sampson to buy him some Christmas gifts wholesale was your idea!” he said accusingly.
The Dragon stared. “It seemed the best way of getting Maisie’s jewellery back to her without any one person being solely involved,” she said frankly. “I knew we should all recognize the things the moment we saw them and I was certain that after a lot of argument we should decide to pack them up and send them round to her. But, if there was any repercussion, we should all be in it (quite a formidable array, dear) and the blame could be traced to Mr. Sampson if absolutely necessary. You see the Brigadier is convinced that Sampson was there last night. Mr. Taunton very cleverly left him on the lawn and went behind the tool-shed and came back with the box.”
“How completely immoral!”
The Dragon had the grace to look embarrassed. “I don’t think the Sampson angle would ever have arisen,” she said. “But if it had, Sampson was quite a terrible person. Almost a blackmailer. Utterly dishonest and inconsiderate. Think how he has spoiled everything and endangered us all by getting himself killed on the one afternoon when we said he was here, so that the police were brought in. just the one thing I was trying to avoid. When the Inspector appeared this morning I was so upset I thought of you!”
In his not unnatural alarm Mr. Campion so far forgot himself as to touch her sleeve. “Where is Taunton now?”
The Dragon threshed her train. “Really, boy! What a fidget you are! If you must know, I gave him his Christmas present—every penny I had in cash for he was broke again, he told me—and sent him for a nice long walk after lunch. Having seen the Inspector here this morning he was glad to go.” She paused and a gentle gleam came into her hooded eyes. “If that Superintendent has the stupidity to try to find him when once Maisie has her monstrosities back none of us will be able to identify him I’m afraid. And there’s another thing. If the Brigadier should be forced to give evidence I am sure he will stick to his guns about Mr. Sampson being down the garden here at six o’clock last night. He believes he was. That would mean that someone very wicked would have to go unpunished, wouldn’t it? Sampson was a terrible person but no one should have killed him.”
Mr. Campion was silenced. He glanced fearfully across the room.
The Superintendent was seated at his table wearing the strained yet slap-happy expression of a man with concussion. On his left was a pile of black and gilt wrappings, on his right a rajah’s ransom in somewhat specialized form. From where he stood Mr. Campion could see two examples amid the rest; a breastplate in gold, pearl and enamel in the shape of a unicorn in a garden and an item which looked like a plover’s egg in tourmaline encased in a ducal coronet. There was also a soapstone monkey and a silver paper-knife.
Much later that evening Mr. Campion and the Superintendent drove quietly back to headquarters. Oates had a large cardboard box on his knee. He clasped it tenderly.
He had been silent for a long time when a thought occurred to him.
“Why did they take him into the house in the first place?” he said. “An elderly crook looking lost! No luggage!”
Mr. Campion’s pale eyes flickered behind his spectacles.
“Don’t forget the Duchess’s housekeeping money,” he murmured. “I should think he offered one of the widows who really run that place the first three months’ payment in cash, wouldn’t you? That must be an impressive phenomenon in that sort of business, I fancy.”
Oates caught his breath and fell silent once more until presently he burst out again.
“Those people! That woman!” he exploded. “When they were younger they led me a pretty dance—losing things or getting themselves swindled. But now they’re old they take the blessed biscuit! Do you see how she’s tied my hands, Campion?”
Mr. Campion tried not to grin.
“Snapdragons are just permissible at Christmas,” he said. “Handled with extreme caution they burn very few fingers, it seems to me.” He tapped the cardboard box. “And some of them provide a few plums for retiring coppers, don’t they, Superintendent?”
Table of Contents
Tall Story
Three Is A Lucky Number
The Villa Marie Celeste
The Psychologist
Little Miss Know-All
One Morning They’ll Hang Him
The Lieabout
Face Value
Evidence in Camera
Joke Over
The Lying-In-State
The Pro and the Con
Is There A Doctor in the House?
The Border-Line Case
They Never Get Caught
The Mind’s Eye Mystery
Mum Knows Best
The Snapdragon and the C.I.D.
The Allingham Case-Book Page 23