“I sincerely hope so too, signore,” said the advocate, and later on Falconer left him, departing that same day for London, travelling by way of Milan and the Gothard.
On opening the London newspaper, which he bought on Folkestone Pier when he landed, his eyes met a startling headline, and he sat in his corner seat in the boat-train, aghast as he read the amazing announcement.
On the previous day, it was stated, three men from a well-known furniture depository went with the key to a flat in Longton Mansions, Bayswater, to remove the furniture into storage, its owner, Mrs. Priestley, having gone to Buenos Ayres for a year to join her husband, who had an appointment out there.
On entering the flat, they first commenced removing the furniture from the drawing-room and dining-room. Then they cleared out two bedrooms, when one of the men, unlocking the door of a small box-room, the key of which was in the door, was startled at finding a man huddled up inside! A few seconds sufficed to show that he was dead—and had no doubt been dead some days!
At once the police had been called, care being taken to hide the gruesome discovery from other tenants of the flats. The body was brought out, and the detective-inspector of the Division, on seeing it, identified the body as that of a young man named Enrico Rossi, an Italian engineer, who had been reported missing. The report concluded with the usual cryptic assurance that the police had the matter in hand.
Geoffrey sat staggered. His worst fears were now realised. His friend Enrico had, no doubt, been done to death!
On arrival at Victoria Station, he drove at once to Scotland Yard, where he interviewed Superintendent Ransley, the same official with whom the affair of the Secret Signals had brought him into contact. And to him he gave the photograph of the dead man, which he had brought from Italy.
“Yes, Mr. Falconer, the whole circumstances are an enigma,” the superintendent told him as they sat together in the rather barely-furnished room. “We are now in search of the woman named Priestley. Yet as far as I can gather, she is a most respectable lady. Her husband has recently obtained a post as vice-consul at San Cristobal, and she stored her furniture in order to join him.”
“But where is she now?”
“On her way to Buenos Ayres perhaps. I hope to know to-morrow if she has sailed. But whether she has or not, we shall no doubt eventually find her.”