Lamb gave his robust laugh.

“I’m glad you admit that!”

“I would like to know whether the laundryman was seen coming down again.”

“Yes, he was. The porter was answering a ’phone call, so he only saw him out of the tail of his eye.”

“Had he still got the laundry-basket on his head?”

“Well, he would have, wouldn’t he? He’d bring back the clean clothes and take away the dirty ones. And it’s no good asking me any more about it, because that’s all I know. You can ask the porter, but you won’t find he knows any more either. No-the way it looks to me, the one that had the motive and the opportunity is Sir Philip. You may say that the motive isn’t strong enough-and there’s something in that. But the circumstances are all very suspicious. Here’s one of them. He was at the War Office from nine to half past twelve-we’ve checked up on that-but he walks in at Mrs. Perry Jocelyn’s flat at a quarter to one, sees Miss Armitage, doesn’t see anyone else-it’s one of those L-shaped rooms, and they’re round the corner-and says, ‘Anne’s dead.’ Doesn’t say any more because he realizes there are other people there, just turns round and walks out again. Now unless she was dead before he left this flat he couldn’t have known about it. His explanation is that he meant something quite different-meant, in fact, that he was now certain that it was his wife who had died three years ago. What do you think of that?”

“He said it to Miss Armitage, thinking that they were alone?”

“So I understand. Mind you, he didn’t say so-he left Miss Armitage out of it. I’m putting in what Miss Jocelyn said. She rang up to ask what had happened. It was she who mentioned Miss Armitage.”

Miss Silver coughed.

“It must have given her a great shock, poor girl. She does not look at all strong.‘”

“Do you know her?”

“I have met her. A very charming girl.”

“Do you mean there’s something between her and Sir Philip? Looks as if there might be, his running off to her like that. Look here, if that’s the case, he’d have a very serious motive. Say he’s tied up to this woman-doesn’t know if she’s his wife or not, but can’t prove she isn’t-there would be a very serious motive there.” He paused, and added, “His revolver’s gone. He admits it was there last night. What do you make of that?”

Miss Silver declined to make anything of it at all. She opined that it was a very interesting case, and that it was without doubt in the most capable of hands. Having permitted a perfectly genuine note of admiration to appear in her voice, she gave him a friendly smile and said,

“It is so good of you to let me know just how matters stand. I am really very much interested, especially after the rather curious thing which happened yesterday.”

Frank Abbott felt a lively curiosity. What sort of rabbit was Maudie going to bring out of the hat? He had an inward spasm as he thought how much the simile would have shocked her. Or would it? You never knew with Maudie.

If Lamb felt any curiosity he didn’t show it. His tone was off-hand and casual as he said,

“Oh, yes-there’s something you wanted to tell me.”

Miss Silver’s manner became faintly tinged with reproof.

“There was something I felt it my duty to tell you.”

“Well, let’s have it. I’ll have to be getting along.”

The reproof became a little more definite. The Chief Inspector had the fleeting illusion that he was back in school and was perhaps about to be rebuked. It was so strong that for a moment he saw quite plainly the village schoolroom where he had learned the three R’s-the long bare room, the rows of forms, the red-cheeked country children, the small-paned windows standing open to a summer sky and the buzz of bees, the blackboard, the teacher’s face… Old Miss Payne-he hadn’t thought of her for years… It came and went in a flash, but he found himself sitting up and looking respectfully at Miss Silver, who was addressing him.

“-yesterday afternoon. The sun came through for a moment, and I went over to the window and looked out. Lady Jocelyn-I will call her that for convenience-was coming down the street.”

“What?”

Miss Silver inclined her head.

“She stopped on the opposite pavement and stood there looking up at Montague Mansions. She remained like that for some time, just standing there and looking up. She could not see me of course, as I took care to stand behind the curtain. I do not know whether she had the half-formed intention of coming in. If she had done so she might still be alive. She may have been too deeply implicated, or she may have thought that her danger was not so pressing as it has proved to have been, but I have ascertained that she had rung up Mrs. Garth Albany-you will remember her as Janice Meade-and obtained my address. Garth Albany is a connection. It was in their house that I met Miss Armitage.”

Lamb was looking at her with a kind of frowning intensity.

“Is that all?”

“By no means. Lady Jocelyn had been followed.”

Lamb said, “What!” again, this time more sharply.

“By a girl in a shabby brown coat with a brown and purple scarf tied over her head. She was quite young, not over seventeen years of age I should say, and she had come out in a hurry, because she was wearing indoor shoes. She went up into the porch of one of the opposite houses and watched Lady Jocelyn from there.”

“Look here, how do you know it was Lady Jocelyn?”

“Reproductions of her portrait by Amory were in all the papers at the time of her return from France. Her identity is really not in question. Apart from everything else, her manner when I spoke to her of the occurrence-”

“You spoke to her?”

“On the telephone-but I will come to that presently. As I knew that the police were now satisfied that Miss Collins’ death was due to a road accident, and that they were no longer interested in Lady Jocelyn, the fact that she was being followed attracted my attention. In any case, the young girl I had seen would not have been employed in a police case. I thought the matter curious and somewhat alarming. My valued maid, Emma Meadows, was on the point of going out to the post. I asked her to follow the girl, and if possible to find out where she went.”

“Well?”

“She kept both her and Lady Jocelyn in sight until the latter hailed a passing taxi. I think there is no doubt that she came straight back to this flat. The girl turned round and retraced her steps. Emma followed her, but unfortunately lost sight of her a little later at a crowded corner. When she got through the crowd herself-she is elderly and rather stout-the girl was nowhere to be seen. She may have gone into a shop, or she may have got on a bus.”

“What street was this?”

Miss Silver told him, and Frank Abbott wrote it down. She continued.

“Later on, after tea, I rang Lady Jocelyn up.”

“Why did you do that?”

“On thinking the matter over carefully I had come to the conclusion that if she was being shadowed, it was in all probability at the instance of someone other than the police. When I asked myself to whose interest it would be to keep her under observation, the answer was quite simple. I had reason to believe that she had illegal associates-I found it quite impossible to accept the conclusions of the police with regard to the death of Miss Collins-and it occurred to me that if her associates, already sufficiently distrustful to have her watched, were to believe that she had formed the intention of approaching me, she would be in very grave danger. My name is not known to the public, but, especially since the Harsch case, it may have become known to those with whom Lady Jocelyn was entangled. After thinking the matter over I decided to warn her. If she had any intention of abandoning her associates, I felt that she should be encouraged to do so.”

“Well, you rang her up. What did she say?”

Miss Silver shook her head gravely.