“Surely Bartoldi knew him,” I said.
Walker’s voice became a sort of drawl.
“Surely he did not know him. Bartoldi would not have been a party to this man’s criminal adventures.”
I laughed.
“What does Bartoldi care about criminal adventures? He’s a dealer in jewels.”
“He will care about this criminal adventure,” said Walker.
Then he looked suddenly at me.
“Where do you think they went?”
I told him what I thought. This type of person would have a house on the Avenue; it would be closed in August.
Walker shook his head.