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Presently Tuppence proceeded with her search of the house. Time was going on. There was no sign of Tommy and, what mattered far more to Tuppence, there was no sign of Mr. Rennie. Suddenly Tuppence came out of a bedroom and collided with Beatrice Kingston Bruce who was going down stairs. She was fully dressed for the street.

"I'm afraid," said Tuppence, "that you mustn't go out just now."

The other girl looked at her haughtily.

"Whether I go out or not is no business of yours," she said coldly.

"It is my business whether I communicate with the police or not, though," said Tuppence.

In a minute the girl had turned ashy pale.

"You mustn't-you mustn't-I won't go out-but don't do that." She clung to Tuppence beseechingly.

"My dear Miss Kingston Bruce," said Tuppence smiling.

"The case has been perfectly clear to me from the start-I-"

But she was interrupted. In the stress of her encounter with the girl, Tuppence had not heard the front door bell. Now, to her astonishment, Tommy came bounding up the stairs, and in the hall below she caught sight of a big burly man in the act of removing a bowler hat.

"Detective Inspector Marriot of Scotland Yard," he said with a grin.

With a cry, Beatrice Kingston Bruce tore herself from Tuppence's grasp and dashed down the stairs, just as the front door was opened once more to admit Mr. Rennie.

"Now you have torn it," said Tuppence bitterly.

"Eh?" said Tommy, hurrying into Lady Laura's room. He passed on into the bathroom, and picked up a large cake of soap which he brought out in his hands. The Inspector was just mounting the stairs.

"She went quite quietly," he announced. "She's an old hand, and knows when the game is up. What about the pearl?"

"I rather fancy," said Tommy, handing him the soap, "that you'll find it in here."

The Inspector's eyes lit up appreciatively.

"An old trick, and a good one. Cut a cake of soap in half, scoop out a place for the jewel, clap it together again, and smooth the join wed over with hot water. A very smart piece of work on your part, sir."

Tommy accepted the compliment gracefully. He and Tuppence descended the stairs. Colonel Kingston Bruce rushed at him and shook him warmly by the hand.

"My dear sir, I can't thank you enough. Lady Laura wants to thank you also-"

"I am glad we have given you satisfaction," said Tommy. "But I'm afraid I can't stop. I have a most urgent appointment. Member of the Cabinet."

He hurried out to the car and jumped in. Tuppence jumped in beside him.

"But Tommy," she cried. "Haven't they arrested Lady Laura, after all?"

"Oh!" said Tommy. "Didn't I tell you? They've not arrested Lady Laura. They've arrested Elise."

"You see," he went on, as Tuppence sat dumbfounded, "I've often tried to open a door with soap on my hands myself. It can't be done-your hands slip. So I wondered what Elise could have been doing with the soap to get her hands as soapy as all that. She caught up a towel, you remember, so there were no traces of soap on the handle afterwards. But it occurred to me that if you were a professional thief, it wouldn't be a bad plan to be maid to a lady suspected of kleptomania who stayed about a good deal in different houses. So I managed to get a photo of her as well as of the room, induced her to handle a glass slide and toddled off to dear old Scotland Yard. Lightning development of negative, successful identification of fingerprints-and photo. Elise was a long lost friend. Useful place, Scotland Yard."

"And to think," said Tuppence, finding her voice, "that those two young idiots were only suspecting each other in that weak way they do it in books. But why didn't you tell me what you were up to when you went off?"

"In the first place, I suspected that Elise was listening on the landing, and in the second place-"

"Yes?"

"My learned friend forgets," said Tommy. "Thorndyke never tells until the last moment. Besides, Tuppence, you and your pal Janet Smith put one over on me last time. This makes us an square."

5. The Adventure of the Sinister Stranger  <p>5. The Adventure of the Sinister Stranger  </p>

 

"It's been a darned dull day," said Tommy, and yawned widely.

"Nearly tea time," said Tuppence and also yawned.

Business was not brisk in the International Detective Agency. The eagerly expected letter from the ham merchant had not arrived and bona fide cases were not forthcoming.

Albert, the office boy, entered with a sealed package which he laid on the table.

"The Mystery of the Sealed Packet," murmured Tommy. "Did it contain the fabulous pearls of the Russian Grand Duchess? Or was it an infernal machine destined to blow Blunt's Brilliant Detectives to pieces?"

"As a matter of fact," said Tuppence, tearing open the package, "it's my wedding present to Francis Haviland. Rather nice, isn't it?"

Tommy took a slender silver cigarette case from her outstretched hand, noted the inscription engraved in her own handwriting: Francis from Tuppence, opened and shut the case, and nodded approvingly.

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