voice, "that is what we wish to find out. It will ruin my business."
"I don't see that," said Lanton, quietly; "you have always conducted your business respectably."
"It's the first time that I have ever had the police in my house," murmured Madame Coralie, in despair. "But a murder!--oh, what lady will ever come and pass the night here for treatment, when she may be murdered? I wish I knew the villain who killed poor Lady Branwin"--Madame Coralie shook her fist in the air--"I should have him hanged."
"We'll hunt him down yet," said Lanton, confidentially.
"Do you think that the assassin is a man?" asked Ralph, putting the same question to the inspector as he had done to Badoura.
Lanton looked taken aback. "In the absence of all proof, I believe the assassin to be a man--unless Lady Branwin had a woman enemy."
"Mamma had no enemies at all," said Audrey, in a firm voice. "Madame, where were you when my mother was murdered?"
"Upstairs in the still-room," said the woman, quietly. "At about eight o'clock the murder took place, according to the doctor. I was with my girls--that is, Badoura, Parizade and Zobeide were in the still-room, and Peri Banou in the shop. My husband was also there. He went away, and then I came down to tell you at the door that Lady Branwin would stop for the night."
"She must have been dead then," muttered Audrey, shivering. "You heard no noise, or--"
"I heard nothing, neither did my husband or Badoura. I left Lady Branwin quite comfortable shortly before eight o'clock. The assassin must have opened the window and murdered her almost immediately after I left."
"But why was she murdered?" asked Shawe, insistently.
"I can't say, sir, no more than I can say how the assassin managed to enter the court. Why," added Madame Coralie, quickly, "so sure am I that the court cannot be entered that the windows of the bedrooms are never fastened. It would, therefore, not be difficult for the assassin to enter. I expect that he found Lady Branwin asleep, and--"
"So quickly after you left?" interrupted the inspector.
"I gave Lady Branwin a sleeping-draught," explained Madame Coralie, "as her nerves were bad and she could not rest. For the treatment which I intended to give her it was necessary that her nerves should be in better order."
Audrey nodded. "I remember," she said, gravely, "mamma was very much agitated when she came here, and very restless."
"Why?" asked Lanton, sharply.
"On account of her desire for this treatment, which she feared Madame Coralie would not give her. Mamma explained that to me. Then, of course, there were the diamonds--oh!"--Audrey started--"where are the diamonds?"
Inspector Lanton pricked up his ears, and looked at Madame Coralie. "The diamonds!" he repeated. "Where are the diamonds?"
Madame Coralie started back and wrung her hands. "Oh, here is another trouble--another trouble!" she wailed. "I never knew that Lady Branwin brought any diamonds. Are you sure--are you certain?"
"Quite sure," said Audrey, excitedly. "Mamma had two thousand pounds' worth of diamonds in a red morocco bag. She intended to take them to a jeweller and get them reset, but as she stopped here she took the bag out of the motor and carried it into this house with her."
"I saw the red bag," said Madame Coralie, much agitated, "but I swear that I did not know that it contained diamonds. Lady Branwin did not mention what the bag contained. I paid no attention to it."
"Is the bag in this room?" asked Lanton, looking round.
"It must be--it must be," said Madame Coralie, beginning to search. "She had such a bag with her. I remember that; but I did not notice what she did with it. Why should I, not knowing it contained diamonds?"
A thorough search was made, but without result. Audrey again described the bag, and mentioned that her mother had attached a small label to it, so that its owner should be known if it were lost. Inspector Lanton seized on the last word: "Did she expect it to be lost?"
"No; certainly not. She intended, I understood from her own lips, to take the diamonds to the jeweller; but, because she remained here, she took the bag in with her. It must be somewhere."
"In the hands of the assassin, probably," remarked Shawe, nodding.
Lanton looked at him. "Do you think that robbery is the motive for the murder?"
"Yes, I do, since the diamonds are missing. Else why should Lady Branwin, who had no enemies, be strangled? The assassin must have known that she had the jewels with her, and must have climbed the wall of the court to gain entrance by the window. Are there no footmarks?" "I have not searched the court," muttered Lanton, doubtfully; "but this mention of the diamonds puts a different complexion on the case." He paused for a moment, then scrambled through the window, and crossed the court. At the foot of the wall, near the closed door, he picked up a scrap of paper. "It's the label," he called out triumphantly. "Evidently the string became loose, and it fell off while the thief was making off with his plunder." He then turned to examine the door, and uttered a cry as he peered down to look through the key-hole. "This door has been opened," he declared loudly; "the key is in the lock on the outside."
"Ah!" said Ralph, with satisfaction, "now we are on the trail of the assassin."
"Catch him!" screamed Madame Coralie, fiercely. "Catch him and hang him!"
CHAPTER IV.
THE INQUEST
There were many interesting items of news in the newspapers when the Turkish Shop tragedy took place; for it was the middle of the London season, and social events succeeded one another rapidly. Nevertheless, the affair created a sensation, as Lady Branwin was the wife of a millionaire, and a well-known figure in Society. Especially did the female population of Mayfair and Belgravia comment on the murder, as, having taken place in their own particular pet shop, it concerned them nearly. It was dreadful to think that if any one of them passed the night under Madame Coralie's roof death might be the result. Many declared that they would never go near the place again. But this was when the news of the crime was fresh and startling. Later, these ladies saw reason to revise their opinion, since there was no one but Madame Coralie to perform miracles of rejuvenation.
The immediate result of the murder was to send Sir Joseph Branwin to bed. He was a burly, red-faced man, who ate and drank largely; so it was not surprising that the announcement of his wife's terrible death should cause him to have a fit. When he grasped the truth he dropped down straightway, and for quite two weeks he was unable to leave his bed or to attend to any necessary matters. He was neither at the inquest nor at the funeral, and his daughter, along with Ralph Shawe, had to look after everything. Sir Joseph was not grateful--he never was, being a singularly selfish man. It was quite a surprise to Audrey that he should have fallen ill when told the truth. "I daresay he was fonder of mamma than I thought," she said to Ralph, and blamed herself for having misjudged her father; "yet they always quarrelled, and did not seem to get on at all well together."
"The quarrelling may have been a matter of habit," said Shawe, doubtfully. "Married couples may be devoted to one another, and yet may be always bickering. And I think, Audrey, that you told me your parents' marriage was a love-match of a romantic nature."
