The Case of the Two Pearl Necklaces (Musaicum Vintage Mysteries). Dorothy Fielding

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СКАЧАТЬ believe them, darling," he said swiftly. "But neither did I dream of such an explanation."

      "Not being an absolute fool, you didn't," Ann interrupted, for hate was rising above dignified coolness. "How could I have had pearls copied which were not in my possession? If you weigh this string and the real one—if you even lay them side by side—you'll find them apparently identical. I've been to Rinks' this morning with that string, and they looked up their books."

      Here Violet grew abusive, shrilling out her version of the affair. On Ann's insistence she had handed her the real pearls last night and regretted it bitterly enough at the time. She clutched Arthur's arm and assured him that she would never, never, never touch a gambling card again. She shrieked at Ann's perfidy in having taken her to a private gambling place for her own ends.

      Kitty had never admired Arthur so much as now. It was both pain and pleasure to see how his hand covered Violet's, how he held her close, how he soothed and tried to quiet her hysterical rage.

      And in the end Ann was beaten. Kitty had never hoped for this. But Arthur refused to listen to her, and as Ann, forgetting other things for the moment, leant far forward to assure Arthur that he was making the mistake of his life in not believing her, the beads swung free from her hands, and in a second, with a swiftness and a force that delighted Kitty, though it startled her, Violet had grabbed them, tugged the string in two, though it was strongly knotted between each pearl, and thrust them into the little silk handbag that she clutched tightly under her arm.

      For a second Kitty thought Ann would actually spring at the other girl. But her self-control held. Instead, she gave Violet a look of such real and utter contempt that Kitty's faith wavered, gave Arthur its mate, and then, head high, would have left the room had not Arthur placed himself with his back to the door to prevent it.

      "No, you can't leave like that, Ann," he said, and spoke in measured tones. "Not until you fully realise that if one word of these false accusations of yours get about I shall bring an action for libel—or rather my wife will."

      Ann looked about her for the paper that had lain on the table. It, too, was gone—into Arthur Walsh's pocket!

      "You have no proofs!" His flaming eyes burnt out of his deeply-flushed face as he spoke. He was in a rage of which Kitty had never thought him capable.

      "Here is my cheque for your loan. I insist on your taking it. Violet regrets the whole transaction deeply. That, instead of coming to me, she borrowed from you. But your tale about her having got the loan from you on imitation pearls—" His teeth clicked together audibly. The muscles on his cheeks bulged for a second. Again Kitty felt that the natural man would have liked to hit out at Ann, standing quite composedly, though very white, before him.

      For a second they stood face to face, then she made a gesture with her hand, motioning him to step out of her way. But he held his ground.

      "I must have your promise, Ann, to keep absolute silence about this whole scene and affair," he persisted. "You thought you could disgrace Violet. You planned it all with devilish cleverness. But it won't work. I believe she speaks the truth, and I don't believe that you do, about the whole miserable matter."

      "Yet you carefully pocket the paper she signed?" Ann's voice was contemptuous.

      He nodded.

      "And she broke and pocketed the string of alleged pearls!"

      For a second Ann's self-control shook again, but she said no more, only stood a moment with head bent. Then she raised it to add quietly:

      "I thought you were making a dreadful mistake. But it seems that it was I who made one. I see now that you and Miss Finch are well matched. As for your cheque repaying me, I accept it. I have no intention whatever—though she had—of making your fiance a present of my loan."

      Her tone was steel. Then she stopped herself and with a final gesture of utter scorn for both, passed through the door which he now held open for her departure.

      "Darling!" Violet flung her arms around Arthur's neck. "My own darling! That hateful creature! What awful lies! Oh, take me away, where I shall never meet her again!"

      "My own Violet!" Arthur said tenderly. "I'll take you home at once. Forget the whole spiteful fiasco! But what about you, Kit? Will you come, too?"

      Kitty, however, promptly said she needed a walk. And she did. A silent, almost forgotten spectator of the drama, she felt her brain spinning as she recalled it. What would her uncle do? Would he try to stop the marriage by cutting off Arthur's hugely increased marriage allowance and revoking his gift of the capital involved? As well as that of the Town house? Kitty wondered sadly if a struggle were coming between the Colonel and this his second and only surviving son? For Arthur would not give Violet up—of that Kitty now felt sure. But what would her uncle's attitude be? He was a broad-minded man, with but one detestation—personal deceit, and especially of a lie to him. That had cost him Gerald. Was it now—through Violet Finch—to cost him Arthur? For Violet had set it down in black and white that the pledged pearls were her actual property...

      Kitty thought that Violet might have considered that a very trifling inaccuracy; but to her uncle there was no such thing as a "trifling" untruth. And, apart from that, even for Violet Finch it was surely no mere inaccuracy to say that wax imitations were real pearls, and to borrow a considerable sum of money on them...Kitty felt that she must get some clear idea of what had really happened. She could not discuss it with her uncle. Arthur might, but Kitty carried no guns that could cope with her uncle's. Then she bethought herself of Ambrose Walsh, her cousin and Arthur's.

      Ambrose Walsh was a priest. He was only a little older than Arthur himself, but brilliant, even as a boy. You never could deceive Ambrose in the old days; and he was hardly likely to have grown less clear-sighted with the years. He was home, from a leper station, on sick leave, which he was using to write a book. His few books were by way of being literary landmarks.

      Kitty had always liked Ambrose. Fearless, honest, by character he might have been Colonel Walsh's son instead of his nephew. She would try for an interview with him in private. She had better telephone first and find out if he could see her. For Father Walsh was an important person. The lay brother who answered the telephone asked her name. He told her that Father Walsh was engaged for the moment and had an appointment for the next hour, but if Miss Walsh could come then...? Kitty could and would. She felt chilled at the thought of even the hour's delay, and half regretted the impulse that had made her ring her cousin up. But, having done so, she must keep the appointment.

      CHAPTER IV.

       A Marriage Takes Place.

       Table of Contents

      KITTY was before her time at the Priest's House in Islington. She was shown into a very bare little waiting-room. Three doors opened out of it. One was Ambrose Walsh's sitting-room, and she heard voices in conversation within it. Kitty stiffened, for one voice was Ann's. Well, she might have known it. Ambrose had been Ann's confessor for a few months. Ann would be sure to want to get her story in first. Very likely she was even enlisting Ambrose's help to give the Colonel her version of what had happened. What had happened? Kitty asked herself again. Who had been lying...? Something about Ann's exit had been very telling...And, though it seemed incredible that Violet should have done such a thing, yet how had the pearls been imitated?

      But against those doubts rose her old well-founded distrust of Ann Lovelace. Ann of the quiet voice and СКАЧАТЬ