For a few moments further she hesitated, then said sullenly:
“I’m not doing anything against the law.”
“In that case, Miss Moran, you can’t have any real objection to telling me all about it.”
“You can’t make me say a single word if I don’t want to.”
“Perfectly true. But I can arrest you on a charge of criminal conspiracy with Welland and certain other parties, and the public prosecutor will make you tell in open court at your trial.”
“But you wouldn’t do a thing like that?” She spoke half coaxingly, but the look of fear flashed again in her eyes.
“Not if you didn’t force me to.” French leant towards her and spoke very earnestly. “Don’t you make any mistake, Miss Moran. It’s my business to get this information and I’m going to get it. And what’s more, you’re going to give it me. You can please yourself whether you do it now or at Scotland Yard or at the Old Bailey. But you’re going to give it to me.” His voice became coaxing in its turn. “Why not now, just privately here between the two of us? I promise to help you and to protect you from your accomplices.” He paused, then as she did not speak, went on: “Do be sensible, Miss Moran. You’ll never get such a chance again. Remember, it would be a hundred times worse in open court with everyone against you.”
French felt that he was sailing rather near the wind in speaking in this way. His justification to himself was that he was convinced of the girl’s innocence, or rather that if guilty of crime, she had been terrorized into it and wished to escape. But he was not in a position to say this to her in so many words. He remained silent for a few minutes, then just as he was about to resume his arguments, she spoke, her emotion accentuating her brogue.
“I don’t think that’s a fair way you’re speaking to me at all,” she said in a low tone, “but how am I going to stand up against the whole British police? Sure I see that you’ve got me and I’ll have to tell you what you want to know.”
“Believe me, you won’t regret it.”
“Well, then, if you must know, it’s about money,” she began with a rush, as if, having decided to speak, she was now only anxious to get her recital over. “I’ve been hard up for money. And you’ll be saying it’s very wrong and foolish of me, but I’ve taken to gambling to raise the wind. That Mr. Welland is a bookmaker. He has a scheme by which you can stake on the tables at Monte Carlo, and you here in London all the time. A girl I met told me about it. That’s what I’m doing in the car. Mr. Welland said it was against the law to bet in the street and that his office was too far away, so he would lift me for a moment in his car while he took the money.”
French could scarcely restrain a chuckle of sheer delight as he listened to this statement. It was even more gratifying news than that the girls with whom Welland was dealing were employed in box offices. For here was actual proof that he really was on the right track. The scheme for betting on the Monte Carlo tables connected the cases. When therefore he was investigating the affairs of Curtice Welland, he was on the way to learning who murdered Thurza Darke and her fellow victims. For the second time in two days he experienced that delightful feeling of enthusiasm which came from progress and success.
At the same time he was puzzled by the girl’s manner. Experience told him that a true confession produced symptoms of relief. But Miss Moran had shown no such feeling. Indeed, she seemed more uneasy and apprehensive than ever. Gradually an opinion crystallized in French’s mind. He had not heard the truth. This story was an invention and the girl was terrified lest he should see through it. A small test, however, should settle the matter.
“Gambling may or may not be wise, Miss Moran,” he said gravely, “but it is certainly not illegal and you have nothing to fear from the police because of it. There surely must be something else. Has your betting tempted you towards the till of the Panopticon?”
For a moment an indignant denial seemed imminent, then a fresh idea appeared to dawn on the girl’s mind and she checked herself.
“Maybe there was something of the kind,” she said, averting her face as if from shame. But French was certain she was now feeling relief.
So the little test had worked, and out of her own mouth the girl stood convicted. French’s previous inquiries had proved that she was not stealing from the till. But she had seen that her story lacked motive and to bolster it up she had admitted a theft of which she was innocent.
The business, then, was even more serious than he had supposed. This girl was willing to risk arrest rather than reveal it. But French saw that for the moment he would get no more out of her, and he set himself to dispel her fears, so that the story she would almost certainly tell to Welland would do as little harm as possible.
One other point, however, he did learn. At the moment he did not appreciate its importance, but afterwards he saw that its discovery formed an essential link in the chain by which he eventually unravelled the mystery.
While going over with Miss Moran the places at which she had been picked up and set down, he remembered that she had not been seen to speak to Welland, and asked how she knew where to wait for the car. Without hesitation she told him that five
