“I hear that the man who is dead trusted you. Did he trust you with his real name?”
“Never, sir.” Gerard spread out his two hands to show their emptiness of knowledge. “I knew nothing of him except what I learned from Madame.”
“And that was?”
The waiter looked apprehensive. No doubt the idea crossed his mind that it might be awkward if his account contradicted hers.
“That was very little indeed, sir. She told me to treat him as proprietor. He never paid for what he consumed. I supposed that he was Madame’s partner.”
“Were you the only man who waited on him?”
“For the last four months or six months, yes, sir. He made it his request to Madame and to me that I should bring him everything he ordered.”
“Did he tell you why?”
“Yes, he said to me that I was to carry his glass of wine or his cup of coffee very carefully. ‘See that you do not spill it, and see that nothing is spilled into it by the way’—those were his words, sir, as nearly as I can recollect.”
“What did you think when he said that?”