Battle, Superintendent (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Police -- England -- Fiction
“I see no objection to that,” said the manager after a moment or two’s
pause. “I cannot give you the information offhand, of course, but if
you will return in half an hour’s time I will have everything ready to
lay before you.”
“Thank you very much. That will suit me admirably.”
In half an hour’s time, Anthony returned to the office again to find
that the manager had been as good as his word. Jotted down upon a piece
of paper were all the relevant facts known about Giuseppe Manelli.
“He came to us, you see, about three months ago. A skilled and
experienced waiter. Has given complete satisfaction. He has been in
England about five years.”
Together the two men ran over a list of the hotels and restaurants
where the Italian had worked. One fact struck Anthony as being possibly
of significance. At two of the hotels in question there had been
serious robberies during the time that Giuseppe was employed there,
though no suspicion of any kind had attached to him in either case.
Still, the fact was significant.
Was Giuseppe merely a clever hotel thief? Had his search of Anthony’s
suit-case been merely part of his habitual professional tactics? He
might just possibly have had the packet of letters in his hand at the
moment when Anthony switched on the light, and have shoved it into his
pocket mechanically so as to have his hands free. In that case, the
thing was mere plain or garden robbery.
Against that, there was to be put the man’s excitement of the evening
before when he had caught sight of the papers lying on the table. There
had been no money or object of value there such as would excite the
cupidity of an ordinary thief.
No, Anthony felt convinced that Giuseppe had been acting as a tool
for some outside agency. With the information supplied to him by the
manager, it might be possible to learn something about Giuseppe’s
private life, and so finally track him down. He gathered up the sheet
of paper and rose.
“Thank you very much indeed. It’s quite unnecessary to ask, I suppose,
whether Giuseppe is still in the hotel?”
The manager smiled.
“His bed was not slept in, and all his things have been left behind. He
must have rushed straight out after his attack upon you. I don’t think
there is much chance of our seeing him again.”
“I imagine not. Well, thank you very much indeed. I shall be staying on
here for the present.”
“I hope you will be successful in your task, but I confess that I am
rather doubtful.”
“I always hope for the best.”
One of Anthony’s first proceedings was to question some of the other
waiters who had been friendly with Giuseppe, but he obtained very
little to go upon. He wrote out an advertisement on the lines he had
planned, and had it sent to five of the most widely read newspapers. He
was just about to go out and visit the restaurant at which Giuseppe had
been previously employed when the telephone rang. Anthony took up the
receiver.
“Hullo, what is it?”
A toneless voice replied.
“Am I speaking to Mr. McGrath?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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