“This gentleman,” went on the Chief, indicating Ripaldi, “is a member of the Roman police, and has been so obliging as to offer us his services. You will accompany him, in the first instance, to the Hôtel Madagascar. Put yourself in communication with Galipaud, who is there on duty.”
“Would it not be sufficient if I made myself known to M. Galipaud?” suggested the Italian. “I have seen him here, I should recognize him—”
“That is not so certain; he may have changed his appearance. Besides, he does not know the latest developments, and might not be very cordial.”
“You might write me a few lines to take to him.”
“I think not. We prefer to send Block,” replied the Chief, briefly and decidedly. He did not like this pertinacity, and looked at his colleagues as though he sought their concurrence in altering the arrangements for the Italian’s mission. It might be wiser to detain him still.
“It was only to save trouble that I made the suggestion,” hastily put in Ripaldi. “Naturally I am in your hands. And if I do not meet with the maid at the hotel, I may have to look further, in which case Monsieur—Block? thank you—would no doubt render valuable assistance.”
This speech restored confidence, and a few minutes later the two detectives, already excellent friends from the freemasonry of a common craft, left the station in a closed cab.
CHAPTER IX
“What next?” asked the Judge.
“That pestilent English officer, if you please, M. le Juge,” said the detective. “That fire-eating, swashbuckling soldier, with his blustering barrack-room ways. I long to come to close quarters with him. He ridiculed me, taunted me, said I knew nothing—we will see, we will see.”