"Make up the fire," he said, "—a good lasting fire."
When this had been done, he again turned to Katty. "We now," he said, "come to the really exciting part of my story. Up to now, I think I have told you nothing that you did not know."
"I had no idea," said Katty in a low, tense voice, "that the police believed there were two people concerned with Godfrey's death."
She was trying, desperately, to put the puzzle together—and failing.
"I crossed to France last March," went on Greville Howard musingly, "and, inspired I must confess by a mere feeling of idle curiosity, I stopped in Paris two days in order to see, first, Messrs. Zosean, and secondly Henri Lutin, the head of the Detective Agency with whom, as I told you just now, I have long been in such cordial relations. I called first on Henri Lutin and reminded him of the story of Mr. Pavely's disappearance, and of the subsequent finding of his body in this Fernando Apra's office. I also informed him that I would go up to a certain modest sum in pursuit of independent enquiries if he would undertake to make them. He consented, and as a preliminary, gave me some information with regard to Messrs. Zosean. Provided with a good introduction I called on these bankers, and this is what I learnt. Messrs. Zosean, with that curious incuriousness which is so very French, scarcely knew anything of what had happened, though they were vaguely aware that a man had been found killed by accident in their mysterious client's office, for Fernando Apra was their client, but only—note this, for it is important—a client of a few weeks' standing. He had paid in to their bank, some two months before Mr. Pavely's death, the very considerable sum of one million francs, forty thousand pounds, on deposit. One of the junior partners saw him—only once, late in the afternoon."
Greville Howard waited a long moment—then he added impressively: "And the man whom they to this day believe to be Fernando Apra bore no physical resemblance at all to the man who visited me here under that name. In fact, the description given by the bankers exactly tallies with that of another man—of a man whom you described to me about an hour ago."
"I don't quite understand," faltered Katty.
"Don't you? Think a little, Mrs. Winslow, and you will agree with me that the real client of Messrs. Zosean was Oliver Tropenell, the man whom you believe to be the lover and future husband of Mrs. Pavely."
Katty uttered an inarticulate exclamation—was it of surprise or of satisfaction? Her host took no notice of it, and continued his narrative:
"One day—I soon found it to have been the day following that on which the murder of Mr. Pavely was presumably committed—a man who, I feel sure, was my Fernando Apra, turned up at Messrs. Zosean with a cheque, the fact that he was coming having been notified to the bank from London by telephone. He drew out the greater part of the money lodged in the name of Apra in Messrs. Zosean's bank—not all, mark you, for some eight thousand pounds was left in, and that eight thousand pounds, Mrs. Winslow, is still there, undisturbed. I doubt myself if it will ever be claimed!