When this message was despatched he felt easier in his mind.
The chase was at least getting warm.
“I cannot arrest him yet,” he reflected; “but if I once get fairly on his track, I will not lose sight of him again if I can help it. I suppose it will mean a trip to Italy for me. I must lay the evidence before the Treasury to see if a warrant is justified.”
Two days passed without incident.
Late on Sunday evening, February 5, a Continental telegram was handed to him at Scotland Yard:
“Mrs. Hillmer’s present address, Hotel Imperiale, Florence.”
He promptly wired the Chief of Police at Florence:
“Keep Mrs. Hillmer, English visitor, Hotel Imperiale, under surveillance. Also watch her associates, particularly Englishman named Corbett, if there. Letter follows.”
“That’s a good stroke of business,” said he, when the message was sent. “Now we shan’t be long!”
It was in contented mood that he lit a cigar in his office, before walking home for dinner, but a messenger with the badge of the Commercial Cable Company in Northumberland Avenue bustled past him.