Page:ManInBrownSuit-Christie.pdf/110

Rh films. A roll of films—that struck a more recent note. Where had I heard of a roll of films? And why did I connect that thought with Mrs. Blair?

Suddenly I flew at her and almost shook her in my excitement.

"Your films! The ones that were passed to you through the ventilator? Wasn't that on the 22nd?"

"The ones I lost?"

"How do you know they were the same? Why would any one return them to you that way—in the middle of the night? It's a mad idea. No—they were a message, the films had been taken out of the yellow tin case, and something else put inside. Have you got it still?"

"I may have used it. No, here it is. I remember I tossed it into the rack at the side of the bunk."

She held it out to me.

It was an ordinary round tin cylinder, such as films are packed in for the tropics. I took it with trembling hand, but even as I did so my heart leapt. It was noticeably heavier than it should have been.

With shaking fingers I peeled off the strip of adhesive plaster that kept it air-tight. I pulled off the lid, and a stream of dull glassy pebbles rolled onto the bed.

"Pebbles," I said, keenly disappointed.

"Pebbles?" cried Suzanne.

The ring in her voice excited me.

"Pebbles? No, Anne, not pebbles! Diamonds!"