"If you give me a little time," he said, "I shall hope to see my way."
"Ah! ah!—a little time—seven years perhaps the Judge will say. But I
leave it to my wife—she is the clever one. My dear, what shall I do?"
"At the present moment put on your hat and go back to the City," Mrs.
Benstein said. "I fancy I shall know how to deal with Count Lefroy. You
can’t have your money back and your revenge as well. I fancy you can
safely leave me to settle matters."
Aaron Benstein was certain of it. He beamed proudly at his wife and
kissed his fingers as he put on his hat and most obediently waddled out
of the room. For a long while neither party at the table spoke.
"I’m afraid that I don’t quite understand you," Lefroy ventured at
length.
"You are not meant to understand me," Isa Benstein retorted. "For the
present you are going to be my puppet and dance when I pull the strings.
Play me fair, and you shall not suffer for the wrong you have done my
husband; play me false, and you shall stand in the dock within an hour
after. Come, sir, it is the turn of the woman towards whom you and
another scoundrel last night would have shown personal violence had you
dared. For the present I shall be content with plain replies to plain
questions. Do you know from whence Frobisher obtained the Cardinal
Moth?"
"I am not quite sure, but I can give a pretty good guess," Lefroy said.
"We shall come to that presently. Was Manfred well acquainted with the
properties of that accursed flower?"
"I should say not. Of course he had a good idea of its value and what
one could do with it."
"Quite so. Then I suppose that I am correct in assuming that on the
night of his death Manfred was party to a conspiracy to steal the orchid
from Sir Clement Frobisher; in other words, he acted as your agent, and
he was killed in the act of purloining the flower?"
Lefroy wriggled uneasily and muttered something. But Mrs. Benstein
pinned him firmly down.
"I shall abandon you to your fate unless you speak frankly," she said.
"Was Manfred trying to steal the Cardinal Moth when he met with his
death?"
"You may take that for a fact," Lefroy said, as if the words were
dragged from him.
"Very good. Manfred was going to steal the Moth which previously had
been stolen by Sir Clement’s agent from somebody else. Who sold the
Moth to Sir Clement?"
"I am not quite certain, but I believe it was Paul Lopez," said Lefroy.
Mrs. Benstein rose from her seat, and flicked a solitary crumb from her
dress. On the whole she did not seem displeased with the day’s work.
"Enough for the present," she said. "Take me out and see me into a
swift taxi."
*CHAPTER XXV.*
*A STRIKING LIKENESS.*
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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