“Some time after lunch, I was sitting on the terrace with Mr Foss. I forget what we were talking about—nothing of any importance. Soon after that, Maurice came out of the house and sat down. I was surprised to see him, for he’d arranged to play golf this afternoon. But he’d sprained his right wrist badly after lunch, it seems, and had ’phoned to put off his match. He sat nursing his wrist, and we began to speak of one thing and another. Then, I remember, Mr Foss somehow turned the talk on to some of the things we have. It was mostly about Japanese things that they spoke; and Mr Foss seemed chiefly interested in some of the weapons my father had collected. I remember they talked about a Sukesada sword we have and about the Muramasa short sword. Mr Foss said that he would like to see them some time. He thought that Mr Kessock would be interested to hear about them.”
She broke off and seemed to be trying to remember the transitions of the conversation. Sir Clinton waited patiently; but at last she evidently found herself unable to recall any details of the next stage in the talk.
“I can’t remember how it came up. It was just general talk about things in our collection and things Mr Foss had seen elsewhere, but finally they got on to the Medusa Medallions somehow. Mr Foss was telling Maurice how tantalizing it was to buy these things and pass them on to collectors when he’d like to keep them for himself if only he could afford it. Then it came out that he always took a rubbing of all the coins and medals he came across. I remember he made some little joke about his ‘poor man’s collection’ or something like that. I forget exactly how it came about, but either he asked Maurice to let him have another look at the Leonardo medallions or Maurice volunteered to let him take rubbings there and then. I can’t recall the exact way in which the suggestion was made. I wasn’t paying much attention at the time.”
She looked up to see if Sir Clinton showed any sign of annoyance at incomplete information; but his face betrayed neither dissatisfaction nor approval. Inspector Armadale, though following the evidence keenly and making frequent notes, seemed to think that very little of her information was to the point.
“Then,” Joan went on, “I remember Mr Foss getting up from his chair and saying: ‘If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll get the things.’ And he went away and left Maurice and me together. I said: ‘What’s he gone for?’ And Maurice said: ‘Some paper to take rubbings of the medallions and some stuff he uses for that, dubbin or something.’ In a few minutes, Mr Foss came back again with some sheets of paper and some black stuff in his hand. I was interested in seeing how he did his rubbing or whatever you call it, so I went with them to the museum.”
“And then?” Sir Clinton prompted. As they were evidently coming near the moment of the murder in Joan’s narrative, it was clear that he wished to leave her no time to think of the crime itself.
“We went into the museum. Since that night of the masked ball, Maurice has removed most of the smaller articles of value from the cases and put them into the safe; so in order to get the medallions he had to open the safe. It’s a combination lock, you know; and as I knew Maurice wouldn’t like us to be at his elbow while he was setting the combination, I took Mr Foss under my wing and led him over to where the Sukesada sword is hung on the wall. We looked at it for a few moments. I remember taking it out of its sheath to show the blade to Mr Foss. Then I heard Maurice slamming the door of the safe; and when we went into the bay where it is, Maurice was there with the Leonardo medallions in his hand.”
“One moment,” Sir Clinton interrupted. “You said it was a combination lock on the safe. Do you happen to know the combination?”
Joan shook her head.
“Maurice is the only one who knows that. He never told it to any of us.”
Sir Clinton invited her to continue.
“Maurice handed Mr Foss one of the medallions and Mr Foss took it over to the big central case—the one with the flat top. Then he began to take a rubbing of the medallion with his paper and black stuff. He didn’t seem quite satisfied with his first attempt, so he had a second try at it. As we were watching him, he seemed to prick up his ears, and then he said: ‘There’s someone calling for you, Miss Chacewater.’ I couldn’t hear anything myself; but he explained that the voice was pretty far off. He had extra good hearing, I remember he said. He seemed very positive about it, so I went off to see what it was all about.”
“Was that the last time you saw him?”
“Yes,” said Joan, but she had obviously more to tell.
“And then?”
