CHAPTER 4I THOUGHT that neither Richard Wyndham nor his aunt seemed greatly concerned over the loss of the pearls. Fifi’s wheezing, gasping return occupied the old woman’s attention, and Richard, from all I could make out, regarded it as good riddance of bad rubbish. He did, however, call the local police.
“Not that it’ll do any good,” he said carelessly.
Judge Garth agreed to wait until the police came. I was already late at the hospital, and left as soon as I got my bag.
It was after five when I got home. Chase and Eliot Wyndham were holding a council of war in my living room. At least Chase was pacing the floor, gesticulating wildly. His brother was seated on the sofa, his hands thrust deep in his pockets.
He got up when I came in.
“I hope you don’t mind our taking possession like
