The inspector smiled indulgently. ‘I see, my lady. I suppose your theory also has room for Mr Haddock?’
‘It does indeed, Inspector. He’s her fence.’
‘Well, well, well,’ he said, producing a telegram from his jacket pocket. ‘Either you have a source of your own inside Scotland Yard, or you’re a psychic. Take a look at this.’ He handed her the telegram.
She read in silence for a few moments and then handed the telegram back to the inspector. ‘I say,’ was all she said.
‘Well?’ I said, impatiently. ‘What does it say?
‘It says, miss,’ said the inspector, ‘that Sylvia Montgomery is better known to Scotland Yard as Olive Sewell, a notorious sneak thief with a particular fondness for diamonds, and that Clifford Haddock, junk shop owner and oily tick, is currently under investigation for fencing stolen goods, most particularly a diamond necklace owned by the Countess of Teignmouth. The necklace in question was last seen before a party at which Roland Richman’s Ragtime Revue provided the musical entertainment and Superintendent Witham is even now on an express train to Bristol and asks that we detain our songbird until he can make his way to The Grange to ask her a few questions of his own.’
‘Gracious,’ I said.
‘Indeed,’ said the inspector. ‘How on earth did you two manage to find all that out before I did?’
‘Ah,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Now… well… you see…’
‘I think,’ I said, keen to help her out, ‘that Lady Hardcastle is trying to find a way of saying, “We just made it all up in a flight of fancy,” that makes it sound much less like two women indulging in brandy-fuelled whimsy, and more like the work of two keen detective brains hard at work.’
‘Thank you, dear,’ she said. ‘Though I think you might have let the cat out of the bag a little there.’
The inspector laughed. ‘Well, you certainly came up with a version of the truth, however you did it, and there’s always room for imagination in the world of professional detection. And now we can test the other part of your theory. If you’re correct, we ought to find something interesting inside this case other than a bottle of valve oil and an old duster.’
Almost ceremoniously, the inspector flipped open the two catches and slowly lifted the lid. The lining was of red velvet, slightly padded to protect the instrument in transit. There was a lidded compartment along the side nearest the handle and the inspector opened it by lifting a small leather tab. The compartment did indeed contain a small glass bottle of some oily substance and a rag, as well as the “stick thing” that Miss Montgomery had described. The inspector lifted these few items out and it was obvious that the red velvet base of the compartment was slightly askew. A false bottom. Inspector Sunderland pried it loose.
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘That’s terribly disappointing.’
We peered closer. There was nothing there.
‘It looks as though there was something in there at some point, though,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘That’s definitely a secret compartment.’
‘I can’t disagree, my lady,’ said the inspector. ‘But it opens up a few holes in your theory. Mr Holloway would most definitely have known about his hollow case, so if Miss Montgomery – Miss Sewell as I should say – was using his case to smuggle her swag, he would have been well aware. Which makes it rather unlikely that she and he would have struggled had he caught her hiding her stuff there.’
‘Harrumph,’ said Lady Hardcastle.
‘It was a most inspired thought, though,’ said the inspector. ‘And we still need to speak to Miss Sewell again now that we have a little more information about her.’
‘I suppose so,’ she said.
‘May I have a look at the case, Inspector,’ I said.
‘By all means,’ he said.
I flipped down the cover of the storage compartment and closed the case, latching the lid shut. I picked it up and hefted it; it would make a passable weapon in a scuffle. The edges of the case were reinforced with leather, with a double layer on each corner. I imagined myself swinging the case to strike someone and pictured one of those corners making contact with his head. I looked closer at the corner farthest from me.
‘Look here, Inspector,’ I said. ‘Blood. I should say this is the murder weapon.’
He looked where I indicated. ‘I should say you’re right, miss,’ he said. ‘Chalk up one more win for the amateurs. Even I’d missed that.’
Lady Hardcastle beamed at me.
‘Well done, Flo,’ she said. ‘Does that make up for our foolish whimsy, Inspector?’
‘It more than makes up for it, my lady,’ he said. ‘And as I said before, there was truth in the fancy. We shall find out more when we get her in here again. But I’m afraid you shan’t be here, Miss Armstrong.’
‘Oh,’ I said, disappointedly. ‘Shall I not?’
‘Indeed you shall not, miss. While Lady Hardcastle and I apply the thumbscrews in here – you did remember to bring the thumbscrews, my lady?’
‘Sadly no, Inspector. Thumbscrews and coshes are entirely Flo’s province.’
‘No matter, we shall improvise. But while we do that, Miss Armstrong, you shall be putting your newfound searching skills to good use in Miss Sewell’s room. I’m not at all sure that she has anything to do with the murder but I’ll be extremely surprised if she’s not up to something.’
I brightened at once. ‘Oh, goodie,’ I said. ‘I shall turn the place over good and proper, guv, you see if I don’t.’
‘That’s the spirit,’ he said with another of his throaty chuckles.
‘My maid, the bloodhound,’ said Lady Hardcastle.
‘You flatter me, my lady,’ I said. ‘You couldn’t have given it a few moments’ more thought and come up with a more attractive dog?’
‘Pish and fiddlesticks,’ she said. ‘You know full well what I meant by it.’
‘Pfft,’ I said, eloquently.
‘I think I’d better ring for that Jenkins character to go and find Miss Sewell,’ said the inspector, but as he reached for the bell, there was a knock at the door and Jenkins appeared with the coffee.
‘My dear Jenkins,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘What a propitious arrival. Set the coffee down over there, if you please, and then might I ask another favour of you?’
‘Of course, my lady,’ he said. ‘Whatever you need.’
‘Would you dispatch one of your minions to Miss Montgomery’s room, please. Present our compliments and ask if she would be good enough to join the inspector and me in the dining room.’
‘Certainly, my lady. I shall send Dora, if that suits; a run up and down stairs might do her some good. She’s being insufferably cheeky and mischievous this morning, I don’t know what’s got into her.
There was the briefest of pauses while Lady Hardcastle stifled her giggle and composed herself before she said, ‘That will be splendid, Jenkins, thank you so much.’
He bowed respectfully, showing no sign of being discomfited by the smirks his innocent comment had provoked, and left the room.