The American’s eyes glittered.
“Surely,” he snapped, “you’ve reached a most important decision, officer? Perhaps you’ll tell me now what you propose to do to find the real pearls ?”
Tanker was used to outbursts of all kinds, and he took them with a kind of gloomy joy.
“Yes,” he said, and he said it with relish, “I propose to send for help, and make a thorough search, sir. I’ve telephoned for the Inspector.”
“Bristow?” snapped Wagnall.
“Yes, sir,” said Tanker.
Colonel Belton, who had been standing by and showing remarkable restraint, took a step forward, as though the limit had been passed.
“But it’s impossible, impossible! We can’t search — these — these people.”
“The law’s the law, sir,” said Tanker, still with relish.
Belton cleared his throat and glowered. Mannering knew that he was thinking of the celebrities still in the house, of the commotion and sensation a general search would cause. He felt sorry for the Colonel at that moment, because Belton was a man who believed in the thing being the thing, and whose sense of obligation to his guests was very strong. By no stretch of the imagination could this be blamed on to him, but he took it as a personal responsibility, ignoring the fact that the police barely troubled to consult him.
“It’s unthinkable,” he muttered; “it’s — it’s not done J”
Apparently Wagnall did not agree.
“Why?” he said laconically. “What other choice have we?”
There was a pause; conflicting emotions in the room were very strong. The only man of whom Mannering was not sure was Gerry Long. Gerry was leaning against the table, smiling a little, and now thoroughly at ease. Where a few minutes before he had looked guilty and afraid of consequences, he now created the impression that he hadn’t a care in the world. Belton was very red in the face, worried and annoyed. Wagnall was making the best of a bad job, and taking the thing well. Sergeant Tanker Tring and the other police-constable seemed to be looking forward to their task with considerable pleasure, while Mason, the agency man, was also pleased — maliciously.
Mannering was disappointed in Sergeant Tring.
The obvious thing, if a general search was needed, was to make sure that no one in the house was allowed to leave.
The fact that the damage was done in this direction should have made the policeman realise at once the futility of his suggestion.
He had underestimated Tring.
The Yard man believed, reasonably enough, that Long had arranged to slip the false pearls into the place of the originals and to hide or pass on to an associate the genuine string. It was the obvious solution to the mystery, and if the associate was in the house a search would reveal him — or her. On the other hand, Tring knew “that the guests had already started to leave. He doubted whether Long, who had not been in the reception-room, knew that, and, by proposing a general search, hoped to trap the young American into an admission of sorts.
Long refused the bait, but he broke the silence.
“I’m sorry that you don’t feel you can take my word for it,” he said. “But I’m telling you that the first time I saw those pearls” — he pointed to the string in Tring’s hand — “was when they were taken from my pocket. The
“Nons . . .” started Bel ton, and thought better of it.
“Is that true, Gerry ?” asked Wagnall evenly.
Gerry Long flushed a little, but his voice was steady.
“I’m saying it is,” he said.
Wagnall took a deep breath. Mannering, watching him, could easily understand why the man had risen to considerable heights in the commercial world. He had a way with him that created the impression that his word was the obvious law, and no one could have taken the theft more coolly.
“That’s good enough for me,” he said.
“But not for me, I’m afraid,” said Tring respectfully.
Wagnall looked at the sergeant as though he was nonexistent.
“I’ll talk with the Inspector,” he said.
Tring coloured, and muttered under his breath. Mannering, now that he felt that there was little or no likelihood of trouble arising for Gerry Long, felt easier in his mind, and more able to appreciate the humours of the situation.
“Meanwhile — the search?” he suggested.
Tring’s respect for him suffered a reverse, but the sergeant was used to the reactions of the untrained mind, and certainly he did not appreciate the depth of Mannering’s remarks.
“Now we think of it,” said the sergeant quietly, “it won’t be much good, gentlemen. Half the guests are away by now.”
Mannering whistled, and his surprise seemed perfectly real.
“The devil ! So they are!”
Colonel George Belton looked his relief, but had wits enough left not to speak of it. Frank Wagnall shrugged his
