Tangye's manner, his suppressed fury when he believed that probably double that sum had been there. His hope that the thief would be caught while he did not dare to speak clearer as to the thief's possible identity, all looked to Pointer as though Tangye had linked Miss Saunders with that loss with a promptness and a certainty that seemed difficult to understand unless Miss Saunders had been the provider of the one half, and was therefore suspected of being the thief of the other half. But if so, what had she received in exchange? She was not a woman to give up as much as a bent sixpence without some equivalent. What would she accept in return? Not money, for she was handing that over. Then, if not money, what would tempt her? Pointer knew of one thing that would. A promise of marriage. And, if he knew anything of Regina Saunders, it would have been a promise in writing. Had Tangye given her this? It would explain that air of having secretly, not as yet to be openly shown, the upper hand, the whip-hand, which had struck all three men interested in the investigation.
It would explain, too, Tangye's tone, as he had ground out between his teeth that if Mrs. Tangye had given Vardon the money, as was claimed, there would be something in writing to show for it.
Pointer pushed in the little pigeon-hole in his brain where this new item was now laid, and turned to the task immediately before him. An interview with Miss Eden, which he thought might be rather difficult. He had asked for it over the telephone, and learnt that she was down at her settlement in Bethnal Green.
He found her in a tiny private room looking very tired. "Is there anything wrong?" she asked. A poor opening move.
"Mr. Tangye now states that his wife committed suicide and withdraws all claim to the insurance money.
"We have learnt that while at the orchid-show with you, Mrs. Tangye saw her husband and—and—" Pointer looked mysterious, "jumping to conclusions—doubtless wrong ones, she first told him on Monday of her intention to kill herself, and on Tuesday carried it out."
Pointer might have been a father in an earjy Victorian drama.
Miss Eden waited.
"No No!" she murmured brokenly, "oh, no!" She covered her face with her hands. "How could she let it drive her to such a dreadful act!"
After a second she recovered herself.
"Suppose you tell me, though it's rather late in the day," Pointer was very grave, "just what did happen. We know it from other sources, but I would like to hear your side."
"How could she have let it drive her to do that?" Miss Eden murmured half to herself. Pointer felt that she had asked herself that question many times.
"Just what did she see?' he spoke less sternly now.
"It all seems so utterly inadequate," she answered wearily. "We were walking through the Brazilian Garden they made there, when suddenly Mrs. Tangye—" Mary Eden hesitated for her words, "I've heard of people starting back as though they saw an abyss opening before them, but I never saw it done before. It really was as though Mrs. Tangye felt the ground give under her. She jumped back with a sort of gasp. Her face was as white as that—" Mary touched a paper beside her, "I had been looking somewhere else, but following her eyes I saw—I just caught sight of—well, of Mr. Tangye and some woman's sleeve—turning the next corner ahead of us."
There was a short silence.
"That was all. Absolutely all. Of course—I know—Mrs. Tangye had some previous knowledge, and recognised the sleeve. But why should she have looked like that? She let me lead her away as though she were in a sort of dream, but as soon as we sat down she jumped up, and said she wanted to go back for a moment, would I mind waiting for her? She was only gone ten minutes at most, if as long. When she joined me again, she wanted to leave at once. Would I stay on without her? She thought fresh air might do her good. I insisted on going to the station with her. Walking up and down the platform, waiting for the train to come in, she told me about a letter, which had brought her down to the show. I had not heard of it before, or I should not have gone with her."
"Can you recall the exact words in which she spoke of the letter?" Pointer asked.
Miss Eden thought for a moment.
"As nearly as I can recollect her words, they were, 'To think that I only came down because of that woman's silly letter.' Then she was silent until the train came in."
"Was Mrs. Tangye angry?"
"I think she was too stunned to be angry. She seemed really quite dazed. I think—" Miss Eden showed her perplexity in her face, "I think Mrs. Tangye must have been brooding over her troubles until she lost her mental balance. What was there in all this to give such a terrible shock as she had had? I think there must be more behind, than we shall ever know. Some family tendency to suicide. Some morbid strain."
"And the letter she wrote you?"
"I kept it." She flushed scarlet. "But I couldn't bear-, when there was no need—for you to see that last note of hers. But now that there's a question of some innocent person being implicated in quite a wrong idea of Mrs. Tangye's death, you ought to read it. Here it is." She held it out to him.
Dear Mary,
I know you will be shocked by what I am about to do. But it is too late to enter into all that leads me to take the step you will soon learn of. I know your kind heart will not judge me harshly. I cannot think of yesterday calmly. Suppose I had not gone! I am taking the only possible way out of the trouble for all of us. I am not thinking only of myself, believe me.
And so, till we meet again dear, dear friend, in some future where all will be understood—good-bye.
Your affectionate,
Mable.
Pointer handed the letter back to Miss Eden.
"I do not think it will be needed. But please keep it carefully."
Mary hastened to slip it into a locked drawer as though she could not bear to look at it. There was a pause.
"Was Mrs. Tangye an impulsive woman?" Pointer asked.
"Very. To me she was always kindness itself. But there's no use saying she was an easy woman to live with. She wasn't."
"Would she be likely to take a strained view of anything not in itself wrong?"
Miss Eden looked surprised.
"It's odd your saying that. For Mrs. Tangye was most sensitive about what she considered deception. If she thought that things were being kept from her, she could be utterly deaf to reason, or even justice."
"Was she a frank woman herself?"
Mary Eden considered.
"She was a truthful woman," she said finally. "I don't know that I should call her a frank woman. She was too reserved for that."
Pointer asked a number of questions as to the person seen with Tangye at the flower-show.
Miss Eden could only repeat that she had barely glimpsed the sleeve of a very smart squirrel coat. Now Miss Saunders had a squirrel coat. Pointer had noticed her wearing it. Miss Eden went on to say that she seemed tallish. That, too, fitted the companion, as well as Mrs. Bligh.
Miss Eden felt quite sure that Tangye had not seen his wife. He and his companion had turned off at right angles, or rather, were already turning, when Mrs. Tangye had given her start and backward step.
Pointer left time for a little pause, then he said:
"You heard from Mr. Tangye, I see, about our visit?"
"No."
"Then how did you know that an innocent person was 'implicated in quite a wrong idea of Mrs. Tangye's death'?" Miss Eden made a little motion with her hand.
"That slipped out. I heard from Miss Ash about