He saw that it would be possible for Stanley to arrive at the hotel and engage two rooms, ostensibly for himself and his cousin. He would go to his own room after explaining that his cousin would arrive later in the day. After impressing his personality on the staff, he would go out, make up as Jefferson, return with more luggage, and occupy the second room which had been engaged. He would sleep in Jefferson’s room, and in the morning ring early for shaving-water, get up, dress, take his luggage down, pay his bill, and leave the hotel. Then hurrying back, he would slip into his own room unobserved, go to bed, and ring again for hot water, giving the maid the message about his friend. Lest the incident should be forgotten in the event of future enquiries, he would smash the basin, thus impressing his identity on all concerned. That this was what Stanley had done, French was now pretty sure, and he despatched wires to the French and Italian police asking if the same trick had been carried out in Paris and at Grasse and San Remo. After some time there were replies. It had been carried out in Paris, but not at the other two places. At the latter there was no doubt that both men had been present. Jefferson Pyke had, therefore, disappeared at some point between Grasse and Paris, and French soon saw that there was nothing for it but to go to the Riviera and himself enquire into the men’s movements. Accordingly, after consultation with his chief he obtained a letter to the French police, and travelling to Marseilles, began work. Slowly and painfully he traced the two from Marseilles to San Remo, to Monte Carlo, to Grasse, and finally to Nice. And there in the pleasure city, on the shores of the Mediterranean, he came on the explanation he sought. For at Nice, Jefferson Pyke had died. At first, knowing what he did, French had suspected foul play. But in this he found he was mistaken. Jefferson had been taken ill at his hotel and had at once been moved to a hospital. There he had been operated on for appendicitis. French saw the doctor who had had charge of the case and learned the details. There had been complications and the operation could not save him. French was deeply chagrined at his failure to learn so essential a fact at an earlier stage in his investigation. He swore great oaths to his gods that never, _never_ again should he fail to follow up to the very end every clue which presented itself, whether he thought it likely to prove valuable or not. With identity of murderer and victim established, a comparatively short further enquiry sufficed to clear up the details of the affair which were still in doubt. And dreadful reading they made.