But she was interrupted. In the stress of her encounter with the girl, Tuppence had not heard the front door bell. Now, to her astonishment, Tommy came bounding up the stairs, and in the hall below she caught sight of a big burly man in the act of removing a bowler hat.
“Detective Inspector Marriot of Scotland Yard,” he said with a grin.
With a cry, Beatrice Kingston Bruce tore herself from Tuppence’s grasp and dashed down the stairs, just as the front door was opened once more to admit Mr. Rennie.
“Now you have torn it,” said Tuppence bitterly.
“Eh?” said Tommy, hurrying into Lady Laura’s room. He passed on into the bathroom, and picked up a large cake of soap which he brought out in his hands. The Inspector was just mounting the stairs.
“She went quite quietly,” he announced. “She’s an old hand, and knows when the game is up. What about the pearl?”
“I rather fancy,” said Tommy, handing him the soap, “that you’ll find it in here.”
The Inspector’s eyes lit up appreciatively.
“An old trick, and a good one. Cut a cake of soap in half, scoop out a place for the jewel, clap it together again, and smooth the joint well over with hot water. A very smart piece of work on your part, sir.”
Tommy accepted the compliment gracefully. He and Tuppence descended the stairs. Colonel Kingston Bruce rushed at him and shook him warmly by the hand.
“My dear sir, I can’t thank you enough. Lady Laura wants to thank you also—”