“A search of the ship revealed no trace of the missing man, nor had anyone seen him passing through the corridors or on the deck during the night. The chief steward recalled his application for his berth, which had been reserved in advance, and remembered having noticed that the old man was absentminded, and seemed to be suffering from acute repressed excitement.
“The suitcase was found to contain articles of toilet and clothing suitable for an absence of three or four days, but nothing to throw any further light on the tragedy. We are sending it to you for transmission to Miss Duke, to whom presumably it belongs.”
When Inspector French had read the report he turned his attention to the letter. The envelope was square and of good quality paper, and the address was in Mr. Duke’s handwriting. French sat turning it over. He wondered. … He would rather not, but on second thoughts he believed he ought. … There might be something that would give him a hint. …
He took a Gillette razor blade from his drawer, and inserting it beneath the gummed flap, worked it this way and that. In a moment the envelope was open, and he drew out a letter and cautiously unfolded it. It also was written by Mr. Duke, and read:
“My Dearest Sylvia,
“When you receive this you will have heard what I am about to do. My dear, I will not try to justify myself; I suppose I should be brave and fight to the end. But I just couldn’t bear the ruin and disgrace which face me. Even before the robbery things were not going too well. As you know, the war hit businesses like mine worse than most. Now, even if the insurance company paid, I shouldn’t get clear; I should still be many thousands in debt. Sylvia, don’t think too hardly of me, but I couldn’t face it. Loss of position, friends, home, everything—and at my time of life. I just couldn’t.
“But chiefly I couldn’t bear dragging you down with me. You will be free from that now. Your mother’s jointure cannot be touched; it is hers—and yours. You will see that all expenses for her are paid, and the remainder will be yours. Of course the house must go, but you will have enough to live on. You will marry; I trust soon. Remember that it is my last wish and my last charge to you that you marry the man of your choice as soon as may be convenient. Though we have not always seen eye to eye, you have been a good daughter to me.
“Dear Sylvia, try not to take this too much to heart. I face the future, if there is one, without misgivings. Though the way I take may be the coward’s way, it is the easiest and the best way for us all.
“Goodbye, my dearest girl, and if there be a God, may He bless you.
Inspector French had a slight feeling of shame as he refolded this unhappy epistle and, working deftly and mechanically, regummed the flap of the envelope and stuck it down. He was disappointed to find that the letter contained no helpful information, and with a sigh he set out to bear his news to Hampstead.
Miss Duke and Harrington were anxiously awaiting him, and he handed the former both the report and the letter, saying he would wait if she cared to read them in another room. She remained calm and collected, but the pallor of her face and dark rings beneath her eyes indicated the tension under which she was labouring. She withdrew with a word of apology, Harrington accompanying her, and French sat thinking, wondering if a direct question, unexpectedly sprung upon them, might surprise one or other into some unguarded admission which would give him a hint of the secret which he believed they held.
But when they returned some half-hour later, Miss Duke momentarily disarmed him by holding out her letter.
“You had better read that,” she said. “You may want to see it and there is nothing private in it.”
French was momentarily tempted to confess his action with the safety razor, but he saw that he must not divulge police methods, and taking the letter, he reread it and handed it back with a word of thanks.
“Did your father say he was going to Holland?” he inquired.
“Yes, it was one of his usual trips to the Amsterdam office. He expected to be away for two or three days. But I now think he had made up his mind—about—this—before he left. He said goodbye—”
She paused, her lip trembling, then suddenly flinging herself down on the sofa, burst into an uncontrollable flood of tears. “Oh!” she cried brokenly, “if only it hadn’t taken place at sea! I can’t bear to think of him—out there—” She sobbed as if her heart would break.
French saw that she had settled the matter of his procedure. In her present condition he could not probe her with subtle questions. There was nothing for it but to take his departure, and this he did as unobtrusively as he could, leaving her in Harrington’s charge.
He wondered who would take Mr. Duke’s place in the firm, with whom he would have to deal if his efforts to trace the missing diamonds became successful, and determined to call at the office and make some inquiries. He therefore took the tube to the City, and some half-hour later was mounting the steps of the Hatton Garden establishment.
Mr. Schoofs had already taken charge, and saw his visitor in his late principal’s office. The business, he believed, would belong to Miss Duke, though he had no actual reason to say so. However, Messrs. Tinsley & Sharpe of Lincoln’s Inn were the deceased gentleman’s solicitors, and no doubt fuller information could be obtained from them.
“I came over last night, and am just carrying on in the meantime,”
