"I only got back from Ireland last night," said the Sergeant, coming
round to the practical object of his visit, in his own impenetrable
manner. "Before I went to bed, I read your letter, telling me what has
happened since my inquiry after the Diamond was suspended last year.
There's only one thing to be said about the matter on my side. I
completely mistook my case. How any man living was to have seen things
in their true light, in such a situation as mine was at the time, I
don't profess to know. But that doesn't alter the facts as they stand.
I own that I made a mess of it. Not the first mess, Mr. Blake, which
has distinguished my professional career! It's only in books that the
officers of the detective force are superior to the weakness of making a
mistake."
"You have come in the nick of time to recover your reputation," I said.
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Blake," rejoined the Sergeant. "Now I have
retired from business, I don't care a straw about my reputation. I
have done with my reputation, thank God! I am here, sir, in grateful
remembrance of the late Lady Verinder's liberality to me. I will go
back to my old work--if you want me, and if you will trust me--on that
consideration, and on no other. Not a farthing of money is to pass, if
you please, from you to me. This is on honour. Now tell me, Mr. Blake,
how the case stands since you wrote to me last."
I told him of the experiment with the opium, and of what had occurred
afterwards at the bank in Lombard Street. He was greatly struck by the
experiment--it was something entirely new in his experience. And he was
particularly interested in the theory of Ezra Jennings, relating to what
I had done with the Diamond, after I had left Rachel's sitting-room, on
the birthday night.
"I don't hold with Mr. Jennings that you hid the Moonstone," said
Sergeant Cuff. "But I agree with him, that you must certainly have taken
it back to your own room."
"Well?" I asked. "And what happened then?"
"Have you no suspicion yourself of what happened, sir?"
"None whatever."
"Has Mr. Bruff no suspicion?"
"No more than I have."
Sergeant Cuff rose, and went to my writing-table. He came back with a
sealed envelope. It was marked "Private;" it was addressed to me; and it
had the Sergeant's signature in the corner.