"What I have to say next," answered Sergeant Cuff, "relates to Rosanna
Spearman. I recognised the young woman, as your ladyship may remember,
when she brought the washing-book into this room. Up to that time I was
inclined to doubt whether Miss Verinder had trusted her secret to any
one. When I saw Rosanna, I altered my mind. I suspected her at once of
being privy to the suppression of the Diamond. The poor creature has met
her death by a dreadful end, and I don't want your ladyship to think,
now she's gone, that I was unduly hard on her. If this had been a common
case of thieving, I should have given Rosanna the benefit of the doubt
just as freely as I should have given it to any of the other servants in
the house. Our experience of the Reformatory woman is, that when
tried in service--and when kindly and judiciously treated--they prove
themselves in the majority of cases to be honestly penitent, and
honestly worthy of the pains taken with them. But this was not a common
case of thieving. It was a case--in my mind--of a deeply planned fraud,
with the owner of the Diamond at the bottom of it. Holding this view,
the first consideration which naturally presented itself to me, in
connection with Rosanna, was this: Would Miss Verinder be satisfied
(begging your ladyship's pardon) with leading us all to think that the
Moonstone was merely lost? Or would she go a step further, and delude us
into believing that the Moonstone was stolen? In the latter event there
was Rosanna Spearman--with the character of a thief--ready to her hand;
the person of all others to lead your ladyship off, and to lead me off,
on a false scent."
Was it possible (I asked myself) that he could put his case against
Miss Rachel and Rosanna in a more horrid point of view than this? It WAS
possible, as you shall now see.
"I had another reason for suspecting the deceased woman," he said,
"which appears to me to have been stronger still. Who would be the very
person to help Miss Verinder in raising money privately on the Diamond?
Rosanna Spearman. No young lady in Miss Verinder's position could manage
such a risky matter as that by herself. A go-between she must have, and
who so fit, I ask again, as Rosanna Spearman? Your ladyship's deceased
housemaid was at the top of her profession when she was a thief. She had
relations, to my certain knowledge, with one of the few men in London
(in the money-lending line) who would advance a large sum on such a
notable jewel as the Moonstone, without asking awkward questions, or
insisting on awkward conditions. Bear this in mind, my lady; and now let
me show you how my suspicions have been justified by Rosanna's own acts,
and by the plain inferences to be drawn from them."