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Having been introduced to the big, fair-haired man in a rough tweed
suit, who was apparently directing the inquiries into the affair, he
took me eagerly into a small back room and began to question me. I was,
however, wary not to commit myself to anything further than the
identification of the body.
"The fact is," I said confidentially, "you must omit me from the
witnesses at the inquest."
"Why?" asked the detective suspiciously.
"Because if it were known that I have identified him, all chance of
getting at the truth will at once vanish," I answered. "I have come here
to tell you in strictest confidence who the poor fellow really is."
"Then you know something of the affair?" he said, with a strong Highland
accent.
"I know nothing," I declared. "Nothing except his name."
"H'm. And you say he's a foreigner--an Italian--eh?"
"He was in my service in Leghorn for several years, and on leaving me he
came to London and obtained an engagement as waiter in a restaurant. His
father lived in Leghorn; he was doorkeeper at the Prefecture.


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