“It was very unnatural, but proceed,” said T. X.
“One of the men—a very respectable person—said, 'That chap Vassalaro used to lodge in my place, and I've still got a lot of his things. What do you think I ought to do?'”
“And you said,” suggested the other.
“I nearly frightened his life out of him,” said Mansus. “I said, 'I am a police officer and I want you to come along with me.'”
“And of course he shut up and would not say another word,” said T. X.
“That's true, sir,” said Mansus, “but after awhile I got him to talk. Vassalaro lived in Great James Street, 604, on the third floor. In fact, some of his furniture is there still. He had a good reason for keeping two addresses by all accounts.”
T. X. nodded wisely.
“What was her name?” he asked.
“He had a wife,” said the other, “but she left him about four months before he was killed. He used the Adelphi address for business purposes and apparently he slept two or three nights of the week at Great James Street. I have told the man to leave everything as it is, and that we will come round.”
Ten minutes later the two officers were in the somewhat gloomy apartments which Vassalaro had occupied.