Free The Blue Diamond by Annie Haynes Page B

deeply-set eyes had a trick of glancing at most things, that the full-lipped mouth was not without a certain measure of shrewdness.
    He saluted as Sir Arthur entered.
    â€œGood morning, Sir Arthur.”
    â€œGood morning, Stokes,” the young man returned genially. “I suppose you have been over the house? I told Jenkins to show you round. Sit down.”
    â€œThank you, Sir Arthur, thank you,” the superintendent replied as he took the chair the baronet indicated. “Yes, I have just looked about me a bit.”
    â€œWhat do you make of things?”
    Superintendent Stokes glanced idly through the window.
    â€œIt is early to form a definite opinion, Sir Arthur. The only point I am clear about is that some one who was in your house that night, either guest or servant, knows where Nurse Marston is to be found, or how she left the house.”
    â€œYou think so?” Arthur’s tone betrayed some surprise. “The servants have all denied it most positively. As for guests, they are out of the question, certainly.”
    â€œCertainly, Sir Arthur.”
    To Dr. Grieve, looking from one to the other of the speakers, the superintendent’s tone hardly suggested complete acquiescence with this view. He waited, eagerly on the alert for any suspicion of scandal.
    Superintendent Stokes stroked his clean-shaven chin and looked at the fireplace.
    â€œAs for the servants denying it, Sir Arthur—well, if they had their reasons no doubt they could keep their own counsel. There is one other possibility, however. Could she have slipped out when your guests were leaving? Mr. Jenkins is very positive she did not.”
    Arthur shook his head.
    â€œI think that is improbable in the extreme. James would be at the door, and Jenkins and Charles, as well as myself, a good deal of the time in the hall. No, I think that idea must be dismissed at once.”
    â€œThen there is nothing to fall back upon but the other theory—a confidant—that I can see. Mr. Jenkins tells me he fastened all the doors and French windows himself that night at six o’clock. It is an early hour for closing, Sir Arthur.”
    â€œIt is,” the young man assented, “and an inconvenient one. It is a fad of Lady Laura’s. You may have heard that some suspicious looking characters got in the house through one of the side entrances about six months ago, and the affair naturally alarmed my mother; this early closing”—with a laugh—“has been the result.”
    â€œAh, yes, I think I heard of that affair!” Superintendent Stokes said thoughtfully. “I have made a few inquiries on my own account since you spoke to me, Sir Arthur, but so far I have not discovered anything calculated to elucidate matters. Take it altogether, it is one of the queerest cases I have ever been engaged upon. That disappearance of the tobacco pouch, now, what do you make of that? It might have given us a clue.”
    â€œOh, I scarcely think so! It might have been there for days.”
    â€œOr it might not,” the superintendent remarked sapiently. “At any rate, I should have liked to have had a look at it. Worked with flowers, your butler tells me.”
    â€œOh, yes. Just an ordinary-looking pouch, I have seen hundreds like it,” Sir Arthur replied carelessly. He was inclined to think Superintendent Stokes something of a Jack in office. “I threw it down on the table, and the next morning it could not be found. Still, its loss can scarcely be regarded as of any importance.”
    The superintendent made no further comment. He apparently waited for further information, and his eyes glanced indifferently round the room.
    Dr. Grieve leaned forward.
    â€œI must protest against that tobacco-pouch being regarded as having any bearing on the case whatever,” he remarked fussily. “Nurse Marston and her mother have been known to me for years—respectable, well-conducted women,