The spy, Flobecq, still held the trump card—those foolish declarations of affection and admissions of her guilt.
Truly the situation was most serious, for the honour of the Royal House of Savoy was at stake!
Chapter Thirty Three.
Spreading the Net.
At half-past three next day Hubert Waldron entered the private room of the Questore, or Chief of Police at Turin, where they found a rather elegant, brown-bearded man seated at his writing-table. He instantly recognised Pucci, and quick explanations ensued.
“The man you want duly arrived here,” said the official, “and was picked up by Cimino—whom I believe you know.”
“Certainly. He was with me in Genoa some years ago,” said Pucci.
“Well, all I know is, that the man Flobecq left by the Paris express just before noon, and Cimino is with him. I had a telephone message from you to the effect that His Majesty was making an inquiry. What is it about?” he asked, gazing from the detective to the Englishman.