He rang for Phoebe, gave a message for Miss Lindon, and went out with an ugly look on his face. A taxicab whirled him swiftly across London to Amelia Mansions in the Fulham Road. Mrs. Bence answered his ring. He stepped into the hall, and in his blundering way strode down the passage. The woman checked him.
“Mrs. Rawlings is n't in, sir. She is with Mrs. Oscraft, the lady down-stairs.”
“She went out to lunch with Mrs. Oscraft and came back with her an hour ago.”
He drew the hat-pin from the inside of his overcoat, where he had stuck it. “Do you recognize this?”
The woman looked puzzled. “No, sir,” she said. “Mrs. Rawlings has n't any like it?”
Mrs. Bence inspected the pin. “No, I'm sure. If she had, I would have known.” She saw the trouble in his face. “What has happened, sir?”
He told her briefly. The woman knitted a perplexed brow.
“I don't see how it could have been her, sir,” she said. “She's nearly always with Mrs. Oscraft, and very seldom goes out by herself, and to-day, as I 've said, she went out and came back with her. And I'm sure she has n't had a hat-pin like that in use.”
“What exactly is this Mrs. Oscraft?” he asked. Mrs. Bence added to his vague knowledge. Her husband was a book-maker, very often absent from home, having to frequent race-meetings and taverns and other such resorts of his trade. She had many friends, male and female, of the same kidney, a crew rowdy and vulgar, but otherwise harmless. She and Mrs. Rawlings had become inseparable.
Mrs. Oscraft, an overblown blonde, floppily attired, opened the door of her flat.
He explained that he was the husband of Mrs. Rawlings.
“So you are. She 's got a portrait of you. Besides, I 've seen you here. She 's in the drawing-room. Come along in and have a whisky and soda or a glass of champagne.”
He declined. “I owe you a thousand apologies for intruding,” said he, “but if you would answer me just one question, I should be greatly obliged.”
“Fire away,” said the lady. “Won't you really come in?”
“No, thank you,” said John. “Will you tell me where my wife has been this afternoon?”
“With me all the time,” said Mrs. Oscraft, promptly. “We 've been doing Christmas shopping in Kensington High Street, and only just got back.”