"He said: 'All right, tell Mr. Bridwell I shall start at once'."
"How long have you been in Mr. Bridwell's service?"
"Three years," was the answer. "He was traveling in Italy, and I was a waiter in an hotel at Pisa. He liked me and made me an offer, and I became his servant. I have traveled much with him in all parts of Europe."
"Are you sure you never saw either of the men who dined here to-night while you were traveling with your master in Italy?"
"I am sure, but on oath—it would be difficult to take an oath. His friends were of a different kind. My master was writing a book on Italy; he is still at work on it. Ah, signore, I should say he was at work on it. Shall I show you his papers in the other room?"
The voluminous manuscripts proved that Bridwell was engaged upon a monumental work dealing with the Italian Renaissance.
"Most interesting," said Quarles. "I should like to sit down at once and spend hours with it. This is valuable. Mr. Bridwell's business man ought to take charge of these papers. Do you know the name of his solicitors?"
"Mr. Standish, in Hanover Square," Masini answered.
The Italian declared he knew nothing about a lady's bag, and we searched for it in vain. Then Quarles and I interviewed the hall porter. He knew that Bridwell had had two gentlemen to dine with him that evening, but he had not taken any particular notice of them. They left soon after eight, he said. He corroborated the Italian's statement that he had gone out at seven, and had returned just before nine.
"You didn't see a lady go up to Mr. Bridwell's flat?"