There had been no hope for John Lexman from the start.He was in debt to the man he killed.His story of threatening letters was not substantiated.The revolver which he said had been flourished at him had never been found.Two people believed implicitly in the story, and a sympathetic Home Secretary had assured T.X.
personally that if he could find the revolver and associate it with the murder beyond any doubt, John Lexman would be pardoned.
Every stream in the neighbourhood had been dragged.In one case a small river had been dammed, and the bed had been carefully dried and sifted, but there was no trace of the weapon, and T.X.had tried methods more effective and certainly less legal.
A mysterious electrician had called at 456 Cadogan Square in Kara's absence, and he was armed with such indisputable authority that he was permitted to penetrate to Kara's private room, in order to examine certain fitments.
Kara returning next day thought no more of the matter when it was reported to him, until going to his safe that night he discovered that it had been opened and ransacked.
As it happened, most of Kara's valuable and confidential possessions were at the bank.In a fret of panic and at considerable cost he had the safe removed and another put in its place of such potency that the makers offered to indemnify him against any loss from burglary.
T.X.finished his work, washed his hands, and was drying them when Mansus came bursting into the room.It was not usual for Mansus to burst into anywhere.He was a slow, methodical, painstaking man, with a deliberate and an official, manner.
"What's the matter?" asked T.X.quickly.
"We didn't search Vassalaro's lodgings," cried Mansus breathlessly."It just occurred to me as I was coming over Westminster Bridge.I was on top of a bus - ""Wake up!" said T.X."You're amongst friends and cut all that 'bus' stuff out.Of course we searched Vassalaro's lodgings!""No, we didn't, sir," said the other triumphantly."He lived in Great James Street.""He lived in the Adelphi," corrected T.X.
"There were two places where he lived," said Mansus.
"When did you learn this?" asked his Chief, dropping his flippancy.
"This morning.I was on a bus coming across Westminster Bridge, and there were two men in front of me, and I heard the word 'Vassalaro' and naturally I pricked up my ears.""It was very unnatural, but proceed," said T.X.
"One of the men - a very respectable person - said, 'That chap Vassalaro used to lodge in my place, and I've still got a lot of his things.What do you think I ought to do?'""And you said," suggested the other.
"I nearly frightened his life out of him," said Mansus."I said, 'I am a police officer and I want you to come along with me.'""And of course he shut up and would not say another word," said T.
X.
"That's true, sir," said Mansus, "but after awhile I got him to talk.Vassalaro lived in Great James Street, 604, on the third floor.In fact, some of his furniture is there still.He had a good reason for keeping two addresses by all accounts."T.X.nodded wisely.
"What was her name?" he asked.
"He had a wife," said the other, "but she left him about four months before he was killed.He used the Adelphi address for business purposes and apparently he slept two or three nights of the week at Great James Street.I have told the man to leave everything as it is, and that we will come round."Ten minutes later the two officers were in the somewhat gloomy apartments which Vassalaro had occupied.
The landlord explained that most of the furniture was his, but that there were certain articles which were the property of the deceased man.He added, somewhat unnecessarily, that the late tenant owed him six months' rent.
The articles which had been the property of Vassalaro included a tin trunk, a small writing bureau, a secretaire bookcase and a few clothes.The secretaire was locked, as was the writing bureau.
The tin box, which had little or nothing of interest, was unfastened.
The other locks needed very little attention.Without any difficulty Mansus opened both.The leaf of the bureau, when let down, formed the desk, and piled up inside was a whole mass of letters opened and unopened, accounts, note-books and all the paraphernalia which an untidy man collects.
Letter by letter, T.X.went through the accumulation without finding anything to help him.Then his eye was attracted by a small tin case thrust into one of the oblong pigeon holes at the back of the desk.This he pulled out and opened and found a small wad of paper wrapped in tin foil.
"Hello, hello!" said T.X.,and he was pardonably exhilarated.
