J. S. Fletcher

“ Cherry laughed.
“I shall be very much surprised—when we’ve ironed everything out—if it hasn’t, ma’am!” he answered. “I think it exceedingly likely.”
“That would seem to argue the existence of a scheme,” observed Miss Ellingham, meditatively. “A deeply-laid scheme, too!”
“Possibly of more than one scheme, ma’am,” assented Cherry. “It’s certainly significant that at or about the time of your loss one man should be murdered and another effect a mysterious disappearance! But this vase of yours—I’m getting interested in that. ”

“ But that, once in his possession, had been stolen, some years before.”
“Oh!” said Cherry. “Stolen?—um! Are these things—this Kang-he ware—thought much of in their own country, now?”
“Thought much of!” exclaimed Miss Ellingham. “Bless your life and soul!—they’re regarded there as something sacred! It’s forbidden—by the Chinese Government—to take them out of the country. They are treasured in families for generation after generation. Lives have been lost in defence of them—yes, and in trying to get hold of them. ”

“ No!—the cupboard wasn’t locked!”
“Nothing to do but open the door and take out the vase, eh?” observed Cherry. “Precisely! But I think it highly probable, Miss Ellingham, that other people than your servants and the folk about here may have heard of your vase. Now, how long have you had it, and where did you get it?”
“I’d better tell you its history,” said Miss Ellingham. “At least, as far as it’s known to me. I may tell you that I am a duly qualified medical practitioner—and pretty well known in the scientific world, too, if it’s worth while your knowing. ”