Part 39 (1/2)

”That is all very well,” Hunterleys protested, ”but I cannot understand what he was doing in my apartment. Can't I go in just for a moment?”

”Impossible, monsieur! Without the permission of the Commissioner of Police no one can enter that room.”

”Then I should like,” Hunterleys persisted, ”to see the Commissioner of Police.”

Monsieur Picard bowed.

”Monsieur the Commissioner is on the premises, without a doubt. I will instruct him of Monsieur Sir Henry's desire.”

”I shall be glad if you will do so at once,” Hunterleys said firmly. ”I will wait for him here.”

The manager made his escape and his relief was obvious. Hunterleys sat on the edge of the bed.

”Do you know anything about this affair?” he asked the nearer of the two valets.

The man shook his head.

”Nothing at all, monsieur,” he answered, without pausing from his labours.

”How did the fellow get into my room?”

”One knows nothing,” the other man muttered.

Hunterleys watched them for a few minutes at their labours.

”A nice, intelligent couple of fellows you are,” he remarked pleasantly.

”Come, here's a louis each. Now can't you tell me something about the affair?”

They came forward. Both looked longingly at the coins.

”Monsieur,” the one he had first addressed regretted, ”there is indeed nothing to be known. At this hotel the wages are good. It is the finest situation a man may gain in Monte Carlo or elsewhere, but if anything like this happens, there is to be silence. One dares not break the rule.”

Hunterleys shrugged his shoulders.

”All right,” he said. ”I shall find out what I want to know, in time.”

The men returned unwillingly to their tasks. In a moment or two there was a knock at the door. The Commissioner of Police entered, accompanied by the hotel manager, who at once introduced him.

”The Commissioner of Police is here, Sir Henry,” he announced. ”He will speak with you immediately.”

The official saluted.

”Monsieur desires some information?”

”I do,” Hunterleys admitted. ”I am told that a man has committed suicide in my room, and I have heard no plausible explanation as to how he got there. I want to see him. It is possible that I may recognise him.”

”The fellow is already identified,” the Director of Police declared. ”I can satisfy monsieur's curiosity. He was connected with a firm of English tailors here, who sought business from the gentlemen in the hotel. He had accordingly sometimes the entree to their apartments. The fellow is reported to have saved a little money and to have visited the tables. He lost everything. He came this morning about his business as usual, but, overcome by despair, stabbed himself, most regrettably in the apartments of monsieur.”

”Since you know all about him, perhaps you can tell me his name?”