"My dear fellow! Okasaki is, say, five feet nothing. The murderer is five
feet ten inches in height. Japanese are clever people, but they are
not--telescopes," and he picked up the ladder.
Winter grinned. "You always make capital out of my blunders," he said.
"Pooh! My banking account is limited. Let us go. The moral atmosphere in
this room is vile."
Outside the Central Police Office they separated, Brett to pay some
long-neglected calls, Winter to hunt up Capella's movements and initiate
inquiries about Okasaki.
The detective came to Brett's chambers at five o'clock, in a great state
of excitement.
"Thank goodness you are at home, sir." he cried, when Smith admitted him
to the barrister's sanctum. "Capella is off to Naples."
Naples, the scene of his marriage! What did this journey portend? Naught
but the gravest considerations would take him so far away from home when
he knew that David and Helen were reunited.
"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.
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