With those few words the structure that she had built up so carefully was scattered in ruins about her feet.
“You see,” Lemoine was continuing, “we have all known that eventually King Victor would come to Chimneys. It was the one place we were sure of catching him.”
Virginia looked up with an odd light in her eyes, and suddenly she laughed.
“You’ve not caught him yet,” she said.
Lemoine looked at her curiously.
“No, Madame. But I shall.”
“He’s supposed to be rather famous for outwitting people, isn’t he?”
The Frenchman’s face darkened with anger.
“This time, it will be different,” he said between his teeth.
“He’s a very attractive fellow,” said Lord Caterham. “Very attractive. But surely—why, you said he was an old friend of yours, Virginia?”
“That is why,” said Virginia composedly, “I think M. Lemoine must be making a mistake.”
And her eyes met the detective’s steadily, but he appeared in no wise discomfited.
“Time will show, Madame,” he said.
“Do you pretend that it was he who shot Prince Michael?” she asked presently.
“Certainly.”
But Virginia shook her head.
“Oh, no!” she said. “Oh, no! That is one thing I am quite sure of. Anthony Cade never killed Prince Michael.”
Lemoine was watching her intently.
“There is a possibility that you are right, Madame,” he said slowly. “A possibility, that is all. It may have been the Herzoslovakian, Boris, who exceeded his orders and fired that shot. Who knows, Prince Michael may have done him some great wrong, and the man sought revenge.”
“He looks a murderous sort of fellow,” agreed Lord Caterham. “The housemaids, I believe, scream when he passes them in the passages.”
“Well,” said Lemoine. “I must be going now. I felt it was due to you, my lord, to know exactly how things stand.”
“Very kind of you, I’m sure,” said Lord Caterham. “Quite certain you won’t have a drink? All right then. Good night.”
200
