Far-fetched or not, the idea fascinated the inspector as it appealed to his imagination; it haunted him so that he could not drive it out of his mind.
"Suppose," he kept saying to himself over and over again, "Silwood is not dead. If he is not dead, what does that imply? Does it mean that there is some conspiracy, a conspiracy in which the Eversleighs are involved?"
Gale pondered deeply. He had the feeling that somehow he was on the verge of a great discovery; but, as he thought still further, he was not so sure. It seemed absurd to connect the Eversleighs with anything of the sort. Finally, he came to a decision. Rising from his chair, he pressed an electric bell, and told a man who instantly appeared in answer to his call to ask Mr. Gilbert Eversleigh to step into the room.
Gilbert, expecting that the coroner had been heard from, came in eagerly.
"The coroner?" he asked.
"No, Mr. Gilbert. I wished you to tell me again the name of the place in Italy where Mr. Silwood died."
"Camajore, in the province of Tuscany—it is in the north of Italy, on the west coast or a few miles inland."
"Camajore?" repeated Gale. "How is it spelt?"
Gilbert spelt the word.
"Do you know the place?" asked the officer.