It must have been eleven o’clock when Dwight Elliott came into the library. He was quiet enough, but he looked profoundly shaken. He sat down and passed a hand wearily over his face. “I would like to ask you some questions,” he said at last. “When you searched the house for Tony’s automatic did you search Mrs. Wainwright’s rooms?”

“No. I never thought of it.”

“She might have had it then?”

“Why would she take it, Mr. Elliott? She had been worried about something. She had even suggested leaving this place. But I had a long talk with her last night. She certainly had no idea of killing herself.”

“Nevertheless, Miss Abbott, I’m afraid that is just what she did. She had no enemies. Who would gain by her death?” He looked at me. “What was the nature of this talk last night? Was it confidential?”

And then I remembered. Maud and the safe. Maud and the manila envelope, for Tony in case anything happened to her. I sat still, seeing her as she had gone over the list of her jewels only the night before. Sitting up in bed while I ran over it, commenting on this and that: her engagement ring, the pearls John had given her on her wedding day. Under that surface veneer of his he must have loved her passionately, that cold elderly man who provided bathrooms and laundries for his workmen because he must, and gave lavish jewels to the woman he adored.

“Not confidential particularly. She went over a list I had made of her jewels.”

“Her jewels? Did she say why?”

“I thought she meant to sell them.”

He got up suddenly. “In that case I’d better examine her safe,” he said. “If she took them with her last night it would account for a great deal.”

I went with him. Upstairs Tony’s door was closed, as was Bessie’s. But there was an officer on guard in front of Maud’s rooms, and he refused to let us in. “You’ll have to ask the chief,” he said. “Sorry, I’ve had orders.”

It took some time to find Jim. When he was finally located he was in the grounds, trying to find some trace of the woman’s footprints he had seen the night before. But they were gone. All he had was the mark he had made on his handkerchief, and he was still looking puzzled when he came upstairs. He admitted us, however, standing by to see that we disturbed nothing.

Maud was still lying on her bed. She had not been undressed, but a blue silk cover had been put over her. The windows were wide open and the room very cold. It was that coldness, I think, which was horrifying. My hands were so unsteady that I was afraid I could not open the safe.

But neither the panel nor the door to the safe was locked. The panel was closed and behind it the safe was standing open. There had been no robbery. The jewels were all there, in their cases as I had left them. Only the list we had made and the envelope intended for Tony were missing.