Parker Pyne Investigates - Agatha Christie [82]
‘I wonder,’ said Mr Stein.
‘What did you say?’
Mr Pointz took the bag, looked at the empty hole with a fragment of plasticine still adhering to it and said slowly: ‘It may have fallen out. We’d better look again.’
The search was repeated, but this time it was a curiously silent business. An atmosphere of tension pervaded the room.
Finally everyone in turn gave it up. They stood looking at each other.
‘It’s not in this room,’ said Stein.
‘And nobody’s left the room,’ said Sir George significantly.
There was a moment’s pause. Eve burst into tears.
Her father patted her on the shoulder.
‘There, there,’ he said awkwardly.
Sir George turned to Leo Stein.
‘Mr Stein,’ he said. ‘Just now you murmured something under your breath. When I asked you to repeat it, you said it was nothing. But as a matter of fact I heard what you said. Miss Eve had just said that none of us noticed the place where she had put the diamond. The words you murmured were: “I wonder.” What we have to face is the probability that one person did notice–that that person is in this room now. I suggest that the only fair and honourable thing is for every one present to submit to a search. The diamond cannot have left the room.’
When Sir George played the part of the old English gentleman, none could play it better. His voice rang with sincerity and indignation.
‘Bit unpleasant, all this,’ said Mr Pointz unhappily.
‘It’s all my fault,’ sobbed Eve. ‘I didn’t mean–’
‘Buck up, kiddo,’ said Mr Stein kindly. ‘Nobody’s blaming you.’
Mr Leathern said in his slow pedantic manner:
‘Why, certainly, I think that Sir George’s suggestion will meet with the fullest approval from all of us. It does from me.’
‘I agree,’ said Evan Llewellyn.
Mrs Rustington looked at Lady Marroway who nodded a brief assent. The two of them went back behind the screen and the sobbing Eve accompanied them.
A waiter knocked on the door and was told to go away.
Five minutes later eight people looked at each other incredulously.
The Morning Star had vanished into space…
II
Mr Parker Pyne looked thoughtfully at the dark agitated face of the young man opposite him.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You’re Welsh, Mr Llewellyn.’
‘What’s that got to do with it?’
Mr Parker Pyne waved a large, well-cared-for hand.
‘Nothing at all, I admit. I am interested in the classification of emotional reactions as exemplified by certain racial types. That is all. Let us return to the consideration of your particular problem.’
‘I don’t really know why I came to you,’ said Evan Llewellyn. His hands twitched nervously, and his dark face had a haggard look. He did not look at Mr Parker Pyne and that gentleman’s scrutiny seemed to make him uncomfortable. ‘I don’t know why I came to you,’ he repeated. ‘But where the Hell can I go? And what the Hell can I do? It’s the powerlessness of not being able to do anything at all that gets me…I saw your advertisement and I remembered that a chap had once spoken of you and said that you got results…And–well–I came! I suppose I was a fool. It’s the sort of position nobody can do anything about.’
‘Not at all,’ said Mr Parker Pyne. ‘I am the proper person to come to. I am a specialist in unhappiness. This business has obviously caused you a good deal of pain. You are sure the facts are exactly as you have told me?’
‘I don’t think I’ve left out anything. Pointz brought out the diamond and passed it around–that wretched American child stuck it on her ridiculous bag and when we came to look at the bag, the diamond was gone. It wasn’t on anyone–old Pointz himself even was searched–he suggested