The Sirens Sang of Murder (30 page)

“I expect,” said Selena, with an air of indulgent generosity, “that you would like to explain to us about the chequebook.”

“Until I saw the chequebook I had assumed that the fountain pen which Gabrielle had lost was the same one which Patrick Ardmore had found—it would have seemed perverse to imagine otherwise. That meant either that Gabrielle herself had dropped the pen on the Coupee or that someone had stolen or borrowed it from her before she left Sark.”

“Yes,” said Selena, “of course.”

“The chequebook included the counterfoils for the period of Gabrielle’s visit to the Channel Islands, and they had all been completed in ink, with a fountain pen rather than a ballpoint. The next counterfoil after these recorded a withdrawal from a bank in St. Malo on the first of May—the day that Gabrielle left Sark. It was in the same hand, in the same ink, and beyond all shadow of doubt written with the same pen—as a student of ancient and medieval manuscripts, I am not without experience of such questions. It was clear then that when Gabrielle reached St. Malo she still had with her the fountain pen she had been using in the Channel Islands. Once I knew that, I could have no doubt of her husband’s guilt.”

“I suppose you mean,” said Selena, frowning slightly, “that he was the only person who had the chance to steal it between the time she used it in St. Malo and the time she discovered it was missing?”

“I couldn’t be absolutely sure of that, though it would have been easier for him than for anyone else—no doubt he took it while she was changing for dinner. But if Gabrielle still had the original pen in St. Malo, then the pen which Patrick Ardmore found on the Coupee must have been a duplicate. As Ragwort pointed out earlier, the pen was not an item which any jeweller who valued his reputation would duplicate without the authority of the original customer. The Count was the original customer.”

“I say,” said Clementine, “do you mean he had a copy made in advance to frame Gabrielle for the murder?”

“I don’t suppose,” I said, “that when he ordered the duplicate he had any precise plans for its use, but I have little doubt that he expected it to be in some way of use to him in perfecting his revenge. He would not have intended, I think, that she should actually be charged with the murder—merely that she should be exposed to a sufficient degree of suspicion to compound her distress for the loss of her lover.”

Julia renewed her complaint that the pen was a deplorably old-fashioned clue. No doubt she was right; but we had been dealing, as I pointed out, with a deplorably old-fashioned murder.