"She may have made a mistake and left it somewhere else," said Zena. "I think we may be sure it was left there, because she states distinctly where it was left--on the Chesterfield. There was something in her mind to fix the place. Moreover, she says, 'Better not send it.' Very significant, that. Bridwell is to keep it until she comes again. Therefore there was some person she would not have know of her visit to the flat, some person who might possibly find out if the bag were returned. I suggest that person was her husband." "I think you have struck the side line," I remarked. "Let me continue to build on the private life of Mr. Bridwell," Quarles went on. "I find a foundation in his literary work--no mean work, absorbing a great part of his life. There would be constant need to refer to libraries, to pictures and other works of art, some of them in private collections. A great deal of this work could be done by an assistant. Shall we say the name of this assistant was Fisher? I observe you do not think it likely." "I certainly do not." "But a secret agent engaged in stealing Government information would hardly advertise his movements to his landlady; he would surely have been more secret than that. On the other hand, the places Fisher mentions have famous libraries and picture galleries. What would a secret agent want at Oxford? A man bent on research would be going to the Bodleian. Country seats with famous works of art in their galleries would account for Fisher's presence in other places mentioned by the landlady." "Is it not strange the Italian servant knew nothing about this wonderful assistant?" I said. "No doubt Bridwell usually saw him in town, at his club, or elsewhere, or communicated with him through the post; but on this occasion Masini was purposely sent to be out of the way when the lady came. We know there was some need for secrecy, and I suggest that Bridwell was in love with another man's wife. In passing, I would point out that the answer Fisher sent back bears out my idea of the assistantship." "It may," I answered. "Now Bridwell's work on the Italian Renaissance no doubt has much information concerning the Vatican, and much to say about the prominent Italian families. As a student, Bridwell would be likely to know all about the romances of poisoned bouquets, gloves, prepared sweetmeats, and the rest of the diabolical cunning which existed." "But we know that he didn't kill himself," I said.