CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIFTH
WHAT THE VALET KNEW
At the time appointed, as I stood in the hall, a tall, clean-shaven, rather spruce young man entered and spoke to the concierge, who at once brought him over to me.
I took him into a corner of the lounge, and when we were seated I told him of my suspicions and my quest.
Like many Swedes he spoke English, and in reply said:
“Well, sir, I was in the Baron’s service for five years, and I knew his habits very well. He was an excellent master—most kind and generous, and with him I have travelled Europe up and down. We were very often in London, where the Baron had bachelor chambers in Jermyn Street.”
“I know that,” I said. “But tell me what you know, and what you suspect concerning his untimely end.”
“There was foul play, sir!” he said unhesitatingly. “The Baron was a strong healthy man who lived frugally, and though he dealt in millions of francs, yet he was most quiet in his habits, and his boast was that he was never out of bed after half-past ten. Though very rich he devoted nearly half his income yearly to charitable institutions. I know the extent of his contributions to the needy, for I have often seen him draw the cheques.”
“Well—tell me exactly what happened,” I asked.