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"How did you discover this fact?" asked Brett, awaking out of a brown study.
"Easily enough, as it happened. Ninety-nine per cent. of gentlemen's valets are keen sports. Barbers and hotel-porters run them close. I do a bit that way myself--"
The barrister groaned.
"Not often, sir, but this is holiday time, you see. Anyhow, I gave the hall-porter, whom I know, the wink to come to a neighbouring bar during his time off for tea. He actually brought Capella's man--William his name is--with him. I told them I had backed the first winner to-day, an eight to one chance, and that started them. I offered to put them on a certainty next week, and William's face fell. 'It's a beastly nuisance,' he said, 'I'm off to Naples with my boss to-morrow.' 'Well,' said I, 'if you're not going before the night train, perhaps I may be able--' But that made him worse, because they leave by the 11 A.M., Victoria."
Brett began to pace the room. He could not make up his mind to visit Naples in person. For one thing, he did not speak Italian. But Capella must be followed. At last he decided upon a course of action.
"Winter," he said, "do you know a man we can trust, an Italian, or better still, an Italian-speaking Englishman, who can undertake this commission for us?"
"Would you mind ringing for Smith, sir?" replied the detective, who seemed to be mightily pleased with himself.
Smith appeared.
"At the foot of the stairs you will find a gentleman named Holden," said Winter. "Ask him to come up, please."
Holden appeared, a sallow personage, long-nosed and shrewd-looking. The detective explained that Mr. Holden was an ex-police sergeant, retained for many years at headquarters on account of his fluency in the language of Ta.s.so. Winter did not mention Ta.s.so. This is figurative.
An arrangement was quickly made. He was to start that evening and meet Capella on arrival at Naples; Winter would telegraph the fact of the Italian's departure according to programme. Holden was not to spare expense in employing local a.s.sistance if necessary. He was to report everything he could learn about Capella's movements.
Brett wanted to hand him 50, but found that all the money he had in his possession at the moment only totalled up to 35.
Winter produced a small bag.
"It was quite true what I said," he smirked. "I did back the first winner, and, what's more, I drew it--sixteen of the best."
"I had no idea the police force was so corrupt," sighed Brett, as he completed the financial transaction, and Mr. Holden took his departure.
The detective also went off to search for Okasaki.
About nine o'clock Hume arrived.
"You will be glad to hear," he said, "that the rector invited me to lunch.
He approves of my project, and will pray for my success. It has been a most pleasant day for me, I can a.s.sure you."
"The rector retired to his study immediately after lunch, I presume?"
"Yes," said David innocently. "Has anything important occurred in town?"
Brett gave him a resume of events. A chance allusion to Sir Alan caused the young man to exclaim:
"By the way, you have never seen his photograph. He and I were very much alike, you know, and I have brought from my rooms a few pictures which may interest you."
He handed to Brett photographs of himself and his two cousins, and of the older Sir Alan and Lady Hume-Frazer, taken singly and in groups.
The barrister examined them minutely.
"Alan and I," pointed out his client, "were photographed during our last visit to London. Poor chap! He never saw this picture. The proofs were not sent until after his death."
Something seemed to puzzle Brett very considerably. He compared the pictures one with the other, and paid heed to every detail.
"Let me understand," Brett said at last. "I think I have it in my notes that at the time of the murder you were twenty-seven, Sir Alan twenty-four, and Mrs. Capella twenty-six?"
"That is so, approximately. We were born respectively in January, October, and December. My twenty-seventh birthday fell on the 11th."
"Stated exactly, you were two years and nine months older than he?"
"Yes."
"You don't look it."
"I never did. We were always about the same size as boys, but he matured at an earlier age than I."
"It is odd. How old were you when this group was taken?"
The photograph depicted a family gathering on the lawn at Beechcroft.
There were eight persons in it, three being elderly men.
David reflected.
"That was before I left Harrow, and Christmas time. Seventeen almost, within a couple of weeks."
"So your cousin Margaret was sixteen?"
"Yes."
"She was remarkably tall, well-developed for her age."
"That was a notable characteristic from an early age. We boys used to call her 'Mama,' when we wanted to vex her."
"The three old gentlemen are very much alike. This is the baronet. Who are the others?"
"My father and uncle."
"What! Do you mean to tell me there is another branch of the family?"
"Well, yes, in a sense. My uncle is dead. His son, my age or a little older, for the youngest of the three brothers was married first, was last heard of in Argentina."
Brett threw the photograph down with clatter.
"Good Heavens!" he vociferated, "when shall I begin to comprehend this business in its entirety? How many more uncles, and aunts, and cousins have you?"
Amazed by this outburst, Hume endeavoured to put matters right.
"I never thought--" he commenced.
"You come to me to do the thinking, Hume. For goodness' sake switch your memory for five minutes from Miss Layton, and tell me all you know of your family history. Have you any other relations?"
"None whatever."