The Case of the Two Pearl Necklaces. Dorothy Fielding
to Ann as security for the loan was one of the two that Ann had helped her choose and seen taken. The value of which Ann could therefore take on trust. And I cannot see any loophole where Miss Finch wasn't lying about that last, too."
Arthur kept silent with an effort; but he looked furious and obstinate.
"You know," the Colonel went on, "what I feel about a lie. It's not prejudice. It's not attaching an exaggerated importance to something that really means very little. All civilisation, all intercourse, all business, is built up on the belief that you can rely on a deliberate assertion. Why, Religion itself depends on that! I cut your brother Gerald off as I did because he was a deliberate liar; in other words, a moral leper. Do you mean to tell me that you intend to choose such a leper for your wife? For the mother of your children?"
"I maintain that it is Ann who is the 'moral leper' here," Arthur said hotly. "I deny absolutely that Violet was lying when she scribbled down those words about being the owner of the pearls. I had told her yesterday that they would be hers—absolutely—on her wedding day. As for the effective use that Ann made of an imitation necklace on which to base her accusations against Violet, I intend to have that curiously plausible production drastically investigated, you may rest assured, Pater! And you may also rest assured that my wife's honour will be irrefutably vindicated," Arthur's voice rang out. And like Kitty, his father rated him the higher for his unshakable and impassioned championship of the girl he loved. Yet Colonel Walsh was no less convinced that his son was the victim of a sheer infatuation.
"Love is often blind," he said gravely.
"I'm not blind!" Arthur exclaimed hotly. "Ann Lovelace hasn't succeeded in pulling her unscrupulously clever wool over my eyes, as she has, apparently, over yours, sir."
The Colonel took it quietly. He was too sorry for his son, too certain that he would yet know the bitterness of awaking, to be angry.
"How do you mean to prove your case?" he asked, "since you intend to do so?"
"I mean to hand the whole thing over to a first-class private investigator," was the firm reply.
"That's sensible!" The Colonel looked, and was relieved. But he was sorrier still for Arthur. "I think you'd better let me see about that," he said a little awkwardly.
Arthur's eyes flashed. "You can call in your own man, too, sir, if you like. But I claim the right to be first in the field. There's only one thing I do insist on. No steps must be taken openly for at least a fortnight. Vi and I believe that this is the only way to give my detective a chance to get at the root and branches of the matter. I'm keen to have Victor Sewell take charge of the investigation for me, and his secretary has told me, over the phone, that Sewell won't be back in town for another ten days. So everything must be at a standstill until then."
"Victor Sewell?" the colonel asked. "Never heard of him. Who is he?"
"He's studied for the Bar, but he's private means and likes problems. Just now he's clearing up a very private and difficult matter at Oxford in which two college men are concerned," Arthur replied. "That's in strict confidence, you know. He's a member of White's. Incidentally, he's a son of the former Commissioner of New Scotland Yard."
"Of that Sewell? Clever chap, the old general. Well, if you think he can serve you in this sad affair—" The colonel looked very pityingly at Arthur standing there before him all fire and eagerness.
"He'll clear Vi, sir," the younger man spoke with a certainty in his voice and face that made the father's heart ache for him. "He'll find out the truth. But till then, Vi's to have fair treatment from everybody. I'll put the fear of God into Ann if she starts letting her tongue run away with her."
"Ann's tongue doesn't run loosely," the colonel said dryly to that; "but I think I may possibly be able to persuade her to an active truce. What about the insurance, though? Are you notifying them that the smaller string seems lost?"
"Not just yet," Arthur said. "Both strings were insured up to the hilt, of course. But Vi thinks that, if Ann does not suspect us of setting investigations and detectives at work, her clever wits will devise some way to plausibly return the real pearls.
"Vi's a marvel, sir!" his son ejaculated. "Most girls, under such an abominable charge, would be wanting Ann Lovelace's blood. Yet Vi actually believes that Ann may have somehow been 'had' too! I think she suspects her mother's partner, Mills, of having had some hand in the exchange. But I, myself, don't agree there. I used to know Mills rather well, at one time. It was he who introduced me to the Little Owls. They were top-hole in those days—I can't think Mills would have a hand in such an injury to Violet. I used to be no end of jealous of him at first. I thought Vi liked him best. However...no open move to be made until Sewell takes the reins, to drive the whole thing straight to the truth."
Colonel Walsh responded hopefully outwardly, but with a sickening certainty that Arthur was riding for a terrible fall. He went up to Town to see Ann, though, and found her not so easy to deal with as he had hoped. In the end, however, he got her promise to keep the whole affair absolutely to herself at present. But he left her more than ever persuaded that she was sincere and had really been duped by Violet Finch. Nevertheless, it seemed to him odd that Ann—familiar with valuable pearls—should not have instantly detected the "feel" of imitation pearls when they were handed over to her.
This was on Wednesday. And on the following Saturday the colonel received a terrible blow. It was a letter from Arthur delivered by hand. In this his son stated that he had been married to Violet Finch that morning at the Kingsway registry office; and that they were on a flying "honeymoonette" in the Engadine. They would be "back home on Tuesday next."
The Colonel sat very still. At first he felt as though he had heard that Arthur had flung himself over a precipice. Then common sense came to his aid. After all, marriages nowadays were anything but permanent...And even did this one prove so, he must hope for the best. There must be something sweet in Violet to account for Arthur's indomitable devotion. And with sweetness allied to spirit no wife could be a misfortune.
Kitty was away from home and he was glad that she, too, would be gone until Tuesday. In reality she was back on Monday; and the colonel told himself thankfully that he must have been mistaken in thinking that she had secretly given her heart to Arthur. For when she learnt the news Kitty took Arthur's part against his aunt; who could not forgive him "his mad marriage to Violet Finch!"
"You should cut him off! You did Gerald for far less!" Lady Monkhouse said furiously to her brother.
Colonel Walsh winced, but he replied quietly: "Arthur has a perfect right to follow the dictates of his heart. He did not deceive me. I may agree that he is a besotted, if not hoodwinked, young fool; but that's no reason for attempting to make him see things as we do. Arthur is deeply in love with Violet, my dear. I only hope he may prove to be right about her, may be able to stay in love with her always. As to my Deed of Gift on his marriage, it was executed a week ago; and so comes into operation at once."
His sister snorted, but the colonel continued calmly: "He writes that they are going to stay in Mrs. Finch's house in Ennismore Gardens, when they get back, until the house in Grosvenor Square can be redecorated—"
"It didn't need any redecorating," snapped his sister; "but I don't doubt that Finch woman needs the money. He'll pay her for the use of hers."
The colonel said no more. He was lunching with Ambrose and feared that he must listen to similar sentiments about the marriage. But his nephew offered no comment beyond the significant priestly aphorism that "God's ways are not our ways. Neither are the devil's, unless we serve him."
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