"He entered possibly through the bathroom," the manager went on, soothingly. "I am deeply grieved that monsieur should be inconvenienced in any way. This is the apartment I have reserved for monsieur," he added, throwing open the door of a room at the end of the corridor. "It is more spacious and in every way more desirable. Monsieur's clothes are already being put away."
Hunterleys glanced around the apartment. It was certainly of a far better type than the one he had been occupying, and two of the floor valets were already busy with his clothes.
"Monsieur will be well satisfied here, I am sure," the hotel manager continued. "May I be permitted to offer my felicitations and to assure you of my immense relief. There was a rumour—the affair occurring in monsieur's apartment—that the unfortunate man was yourself, Sir Henry."
Hunterleys was thoughtful for a moment. He began to understand the sensation which his appearance had caused. Other ideas, too, were crowding into his brain.
"Look here, Monsieur Picard," he said, "of course, I have no objection to the change of rooms—that's all right—but I should like to know a little more about the man who you say committed suicide in my apartment. I should like to see him."
Monsieur Picard shook his head.
"It would be a very difficult matter, that, monsieur," he declared. "The laws of Monaco are stringent in such affairs."
"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."