Ronald waited for a dismissal.
"That sounds like the doctor's voice," he said suddenly.
Steppe strode to the door and opened it.
"Why, Beryl, what brings you out? Good morning, doctor--yes, very
bad news."
Beryl came past him and went straight to Ronald. "Did you see him,
Ronnie--did he come to you?"
"To me--of course not. I hardly knew him."
"Don't lie," said Steppe impatiently, "we're all friends here. What
makes you think he went to Morelle, Beryl?"
"I wondered."
"But you must have had some reason?"
She met the big man's eyes coldly. "Must I be cross-examined? I had
a feeling that he had been to Ronnie. I don't know why--why does one
have these intuitions?"
"We saw it in the morning papers," explained the doctor. "I am
fearfully worried; poor Moropulos, it is dreadful."
Steppe smiled unpleasantly. "He is the least troubled of any of us,"
he said callously, "and the next least is Sault. I saw the detective
who arrested him. He said Sault went straight to sleep the moment
they put him into the cell, and woke this morning cheerful. He must
have nerves of iron."
"Can anything be done for him, Mr. Steppe?"
"He shall have the best lawyer--that Maxton fellow. He ought to be
retained. As far as money can help, I'll do everything possible. I
don't think it will make a scrap of difference."
"Mr. Steppe, you knew what an evil man Moropulos was: you know the
provocation he offered to Ambrose Sault, isn't it possible that the
same cause that made him kill this man, also sent him to the safe?"
"What safe is this--was that in the newspapers too?"
"Yes: he was not a thief, was he? He would not be trying to open the
safe for the sake of getting money? He came to get something that
Moropulos had."
"I wonder--" Steppe was impressed. "It may have been the
photograph."
Ronnie checked the exclamation that terror wrung. He was livid.
"Do you know anything about a photograph?" asked Steppe with growing
suspicion.
"No." Here Beryl came to the rescue.
When he saw her lips move, Ronnie expected worse.
"Whatever it was, I am sure that the safe holds the secret: Ambrose
would not kill a man unless--unless there was no other solution.
Won't you open the safe, Mr. Steppe?"
"I'll be damned if I do!" he vociferated violently. "There is
nothing there which would save him."
"Or justify him--or show the Greek as being what he was?"
Steppe could not answer this: he had another comment to offer. His
attitude toward her had changed slightly since the big diamond had
blazed upon her engagement finger: a reminder of obligations past and
to come.
"You're taking a hell of an interest in this fellow, Beryl?"
"I shall always take a hell of an interest in every matter I please,"
she said, eyeing him steadily. "Unless you satisfy me that nothing
has been left undone that can be done for Ambrose, I shall go into
the witness box and swear to all that I know."
"My dear--" Her father's expostulation she did not hear.
Steppe broke into it. "There is something about this business which
I don't understand. You and Moropulos and this fellow dined together
once--or didn't you? Sounds mighty queer, but I won't enquire--now."
"You'll open the safe?"
"No!" Steppe's jaw set like a trap. "Not to save Sault or any other
man! There is nothing there to save him, I tell you. But if there
was--I wouldn't open it. Get that into your mind, all of you."
She regarded him thoughtfully, and then Ronnie. He looked in another
direction.
"I am taking the car, father."
Even Steppe did not ask her where she was going.