I made discreet inquiries, and discovered that Madame Martoz was living in the hotel.
The truth was plain. I longed to denounce them, but in fear I held my secret.
Old Mr. Lloyd hovered between life and death for a week, when at last he recovered, but to this day he cannot account for the mysterious seizure. I, however, know that it was due to a certain secret colorless liquid with which the gum upon the envelope I had addressed to myself had been painted over by Duperré. The old gentleman had licked it, and within five minutes he had fallen unconscious.
When he was sufficiently well to be shown his dispatch-box he grew frantic.
In it had been his cheque-book containing four signed cheques, as it was his habit to send weekly cheques to the woman who acted as housekeeper at his flat at Hove, which, by the way, he very seldom visited.
By some means Rayne had got to know of this, and by that clever ruse his accomplice got possession of the cheques, and ere the old man could wire to London to stop payment, all four had been cashed for large amounts without question.
Rayne and his friends netted nearly ten thousand pounds, but to this day old Mr. Lloyd entertains no suspicion.