She was a comely maiden, slightly given to plumpness, perhaps, but pretty and kindly and wholesome looking, a sight indeed to warm a man’s heart. But she looked pale and worried, and French felt that her experience, whatever it was, had hit her hard.
“I am sorry to trouble you, Miss Duke, but I am inquiring into the recent crime at your father’s office, and I find I require to ask you a few questions.”
As he spoke he watched her sharply, and he was intrigued to notice a flash of apprehension leap into her clear eyes.
“Won’t you sit down?” she invited, with a somewhat strained smile.
He seated himself deliberately, continuing:
“My questions, I am afraid, are personal and impertinent, but I have no option but to ask them. I will go on to them at once, without further preamble. The first is, What was it that upset you so greatly on the day after the crime?”
She looked at him in evident surprise, and, he imagined, in some relief also.
“Why, how can you ask?” she exclaimed. “Don’t you think news like that was enough to upset anyone? You see, I had known poor Mr. Gething all my life, and he had always been kind to me. I sincerely liked and respected him, and to learn suddenly that he had been murdered in that cold-blooded way, why, it was awful—awful. It certainly upset me, and I don’t see how it could have done anything else.”
French nodded.
“Quite so, Miss Duke, I fully appreciate that. But I venture to suggest that there was something more in your mind than the tragic death of your old acquaintance; something of more pressing and more personal interest. Come now, Miss Duke, tell me what it was.”
The flash of apprehension returned to her eyes, and then once again the look of relief.
“You mean the loss of the diamonds,” she answered calmly. “I deplored that, of course, particularly on my father’s account. But it was Mr. Gething’s death that really, as you call it, upset me. The diamonds we could do without, but we could not give the poor old man back his life.”
“I did not mean the loss of the diamonds, Miss Duke. I meant something more personal than that. I’m afraid you must tell me about it.”
There was now no mistaking the girl’s uneasiness, and French grew more and more hopeful that he was on the track of something vital. But she was not giving anything away.
“You must be mistaken,” she said in a lower tone. “It was the news of the murder, and that alone, which upset me.”
French shook his head.
“I would rather not take that answer from you. Please reconsider it. Can you tell me nothing else?”
“Nothing. That is all I have to say.”
“Very well. I trust it may not be necessary to reopen the matter. Now I want you to tell me why you postponed your wedding with Mr. Harrington.”
Miss Duke flushed deeply.
“I will tell you nothing of the sort, Mr. Inspector!” she declared with some show of anger. “What right have you to ask me such a question? That is a matter between Mr. Harrington and myself alone.”
“I hope you are right, Miss Duke, but I fear there is a chance that you may be mistaken. Do you absolutely decline to answer me?”
“Of course I do! No girl would answer such a question. It is an impertinence to ask it.”
“In that case,” French said grimly, “I shall not press the matter—for the present. Let me turn to another subject. I want you next to tell me why you stopped at Hatton Garden on your way home from the Curtis Street Girls’ Club on the night of the crime.”
For a moment the girl seemed too much surprised to reply, then she answered with a show of indignation: “Really, Mr. French, this is too much! May I ask if you suspect me of the crime?”
“Not of committing it,” French returned gravely, “but,” he leaned forward and gazed keenly into her eyes, “I do suspect you of knowing something about it. Could you not, Miss Duke, if you chose, put me on the track of the criminal?”
“Oh, no, no, no!” the girl cried piteously, motioning with her hands as if to banish so terrible a thought from her purview. “How can you suggest such a thing? It is shameful and horrible!”
“Of course, Miss Duke, I can’t make you answer me if you don’t want to. But I put it to you that it is worth your while thinking twice before you attempt to keep back information. Remember that if I am not satisfied, you may be asked these same questions in court, and then you will have to answer them whether you like it or not. Now I ask you once again, Why did you leave your taxi at Hatton Garden?”
“I think it is perfectly horrible of you to make all these insinuations against me without any grounds whatever,” she answered a little tremulously. “There is no secret about why I stopped the taxi, and I have never made any mystery about it. Why it should have any importance I can’t imagine.” She paused, then with a little gesture as if throwing discretion to the winds, continued: “The fact is that as we were driving home I suddenly saw a girl in the street whom I particularly wished to meet. I stopped the cab and sent Mr. Harrington after her, but he missed her.”
“Who was she?”
“I don’t know; that is why I was so anxious to see her. I suppose you want the whole story?” She tossed her head and went on without waiting for him to reply. “Last summer I was coming up to town from Tonbridge, where I had been staying, and this girl and I had a carriage to ourselves. We began to talk, and became quite friendly. When they came to collect the tickets I found I had lost mine. The man wanted to take my name, but the girl insisted on
