Free Hue and Cry by Patricia Wentworth

searched, all most properly and respectably. And when the diamond’s been found on you, you’ll wish you hadn’t been quite such a fool, Mally, my dear—you really will. Look here, suppose we do a deal. That paper’s of value to Sir George, and I happen to know that he’d give a very considerable sum for its recovery. Hand it over, and you shall go away with a couple of hundred pounds in your pocket, and no harm done. You’ll give back the diamond, of course, but—” He laughed maliciously—“We won’t be too particular about asking how you came by it.”
    Mally did not say a single word. She put back her head against the wooden panel of the door and fixed her eyes upon Paul Craddock’s face. She went on looking at him quite silently and steadily. Paul had expected anger, fear, perhaps—most pleasing thought of all—a terrified plea for help. Instead, Mally’s greenish-hazel eyes just rested on him in a look that passed from surprise into bleak, withering contempt; and under their gaze Paul Craddock felt a discomfort that surprised himself. He looked away, and then looked back again.
    Mally’s face was quite pale and expressionless, but her eyes judged him.

CHAPTER X
    The door opened, and there came in, Mrs. Craddock, who was trembling very much, and Mrs. Craddock’s maid, a tall and most stiffly respectable person of the name of Jones. Sir George followed them a little way into the room and beckoned to Paul Craddock.
    â€œWe shall wait outside. Now, Jones, you quite understand? You will search Miss Lee thoroughly in Mrs. Craddock’s presence. If she makes any difficulty, just let me know and I will send for the police. Take any letters or papers which you find, and let me see them. If you don’t find the diamond ornament on her, her room must be searched.”
    â€œOh!” said Mrs. Craddock. She sank limply into a chair beside the table and dabbed at the tears which were rolling down her cheeks.
    â€œOh, Miss Lee, how dreadful! Oh, George, I can’t believe it.”
    â€œMy dear Lena, I don’t ask you to believe anything; I merely request that you will remain in this room whilst Jones carries out my instructions.” He passed into the corridor as he spoke, and shut the door.
    Mally had not moved. She stood with her head thrown back against the panel of the bedroom door, her fingers clenched upon the handle. She heard Mrs. Craddock sniff and sob.
    Jones touched her on the arm.
    â€œNow, miss, come along.”
    It was Jones’s touch that roused her effectually. She sprang away from it, stamped her foot, and said:
    â€œWhat does it all mean? I think you’re mad—I think you’re all quite mad! Mrs. Craddock!”
    â€œNow look here, miss—”
    â€œMrs. Craddock!”
    Jones stepped between Mally and the weeping lady.
    â€œWhat’s the sense of upsetting her more than she’s upset already? What’s the sense of any of it? If you’re innocent, you’re innocent, and no harm done. And if you’ve forgot yourself and taken things that don’t belong to you—well, isn’t it better for me to find ’em than to be taken off by the police and searched at the station? Which is what’ll happen if you’re foolish. You take and be sensible, and don’t go upsetting Mrs. Craddock, that wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
    Mally looked at the large, impassive woman, and her anger died. What was the good of being angry? The thought of the police station chilled her. Jones noted the change. She became the maid, brisk and business-like.
    â€œLet me have your jumper and skirt to start with. It won’t take long if you’re sensible. Come along.”
    Mally slipped off her dark-blue jumper and stepped out of the short skirt that matched it. It was cold without them. Jones felt the jumper all over and hung it over a chair. Then she ran her hands down the