Part 23 (1/2)

Cyril felt the muscles of his face stiffen. He had for days been dreading some such question, yet now that it had finally come, it had found him completely unprepared. He must parry it if he could. He must fight for her till the last ditch.

But how devilishly clever of Griggs to have deferred his attack until he was able to catch his adversary off his guard! Cyril looked keenly but, he hoped, calmly at the Inspector. Their eyes met, but without the clash which Cyril had expected. The man's expression, although searching, was not hostile; in fact, there was something almost apologetic about his whole att.i.tude. Griggs was not sure of his ground, that much was obvious. He knew something, he probably suspected more, but there was still a chance that he might be led away from the trail.

Cyril's mind worked with feverish rapidity. He realised that it was imperative that his manner should appear perfectly natural. But how would an innocent man behave? He must first decide what his position, viewed from Griggs's standpoint, really was. He must have a definite conception of his part before he attempted to act it.

The Inspector evidently knew that a young woman, who bore Cyril's name, had been taken ill on the Newhaven train. He was no doubt also aware that she was now under the care of Dr. Stuart-Smith. But if the Inspector really believed the girl to be his wife, these facts were in no way incriminating. Yet the man smelt a rat! He must, therefore, know more of the truth. No, for if he had discovered that the girl was not Lady Wilmersley, Cyril was sure that Griggs would not have broached the subject so tentatively. What then had aroused the man's suspicions? Ah, he had it! He had told every one who inquired about his wife that she was still on the continent. Peter, also, obeying his orders, had repeated the same story in the servants' hall. And, of course, Griggs knew that they were both lying. No wonder he was suspicious!

”She is much better, thank you. But how did you hear of her illness? I have not mentioned it to any one.” Cyril flattered himself that his voice had exactly the right note of slightly displeased surprise. He watched the Inspector breathlessly. Had he said the right thing? Yes, for Griggs's expression relaxed and he answered with a smile that was almost deprecating:

”I, of course, saw the report of the man who searched the train, and I was naturally surprised to find that the only lady who had taken her ticket in Newhaven was Mrs. Cyril Crichton. In a case like this we have to verify everything, so when I discovered that the gentleman who was with her, was undoubtedly your Lords.h.i.+p, it puzzled me a good deal why both you and your valet should be so anxious to keep her Ladys.h.i.+p's presence in England a secret.”

”Yes, yes, it must have astonished you, and I confess I am very sorry you found me out,” said Cyril. He had his cue now. The old lie must be told once more. ”Her Ladys.h.i.+p is suffering from a--a nervous affection.”

He hesitated purposely. ”In fact--she has just left an insane asylum,”

he finally blurted out.

”You mean that the present Lady Wilmersley--not the Dowager--?” The Inspector was too surprised to finish his sentence.

”Yes, it's queer, isn't it, that both should be afflicted in the same way,” agreed Cyril, calmly lighting a cigarette.

”Most remarkable,” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Griggs, staring fixedly at Cyril.

”As the doctors believe that her Ladys.h.i.+p will completely recover, I didn't want any one to know that she had ever been unbalanced. But I might have known that it was bound to leak out.”

”We are no gossips, my lord; I shall not mention what you have told me to any one.”

”Thanks. But if the whole police department----?”

”They have got too much to do, to bother about what doesn't concern them. I don't believe a dozen of them noticed that in searching the train for one Lady Wilmersley, they had inadvertently stumbled on another, and as the latter had nothing to do with their case, they probably dismissed the whole thing from their minds. I know them!”

”But you--” suggested Cyril.

”Well, you see, it's different with me. It's the business of my men to bring me isolated facts, but I have to take a larger view of the--the--the--ah--possibilities. I have got to think of everything--suspect every one.”

”Even me?” asked Cyril quickly.

”Your Lords.h.i.+p would have no difficulty in proving an alibi.”

”So you took the trouble to find that out?”

”Of course, my lord.”

”But why? I should really like to know what could have led you to suspect me?”

”I didn't suspect you, my lord. I only thought of you. You see, Lady Wilmersley must have had an accomplice and you must acknowledge that it was a strange coincidence that your Lords.h.i.+p should have happened to pa.s.s through Newhaven at that particular moment, especially as the Newhaven route is not very popular with people of your means.”

”Quite so. As a matter of fact, I had no intention of taking it, but I missed the Calais train.”

”I see,” Griggs nodded his head as if the explanation fully satisfied him. ”Would you mind, my lord,” he continued after a brief pause, ”if, now that we are on the subject, I asked you a few questions? There are several points which are bothering me. Of course, don't answer, if you had rather not.”