tell," was my reply. "I'll describe it all some
day. At present there's no time to waste. I believe I am correct in
saying that the name of the murdered girl is Marie Bracq."

Edwards looked me straight in the face. "That's not an English name, is
it?" he said.

"No, Belgian, I should say."

"Belgian? Yes, most probably," he said. "A rather uncommon name, and one
which ought not to be difficult to trace. How did you find this out?"

"Oh, it's a long story, Mr. Edwards," I said. "But I honestly believe
that at last we are on the scent. Cannot you discover whether any girl of
that name is missing?"

"Of course. I'll wire to the Brussels police at once. Perhaps it will be
well to ask the Prefect of Police in Paris if they have any person of
that name reported missing," he said, and, ringing a bell, a clerk
appeared almost instantly with a writing-pad and pencil.

"Wire to Brussels and Paris and ask if they have any person named Marie
Bracq--be careful of the spelling--missing. If so, we will send them over
a photo."

"Yes, sir," the man replied, and disappeared.

"Well," I asked casually, when we were alone, "have you traced the tailor
who made the dead girl's costume?"

"Not yet. The Italian police are making every inquiry."

"And what have you decided regarding that letter offering to give
information?"

"Nothing," was his prompt reply. "And if this information you have
obtained as to the identity of the deceased proves correct, we shall do
nothing. It will be far more satisfactory to work out the problem for
ourselves, rather than risk being misled by somebody who has an axe to
grind."

"Ah! I'm pleased that you view the matter in that light," I said, much
relieved. "I feel confident that I have gained the true name of the
victim."

"But how did you manage it, Mr. Royle?" he asked, much interested.

I, however, refused to satisfy his curiosity.

"You certainly seem to know more about the affair than we do," he
remarked with a smile.

"Well, was I not a friend of the man who is now a fugitive?" I remarked.

"Ah, of course! And depend upon it, Mr. Royle, when this affair is
cleared up, we shall find that your friend was a man of very curious
character," he said, pursing his lips. "Inquiries have shown that many
mysteries concerning him remain to be explained."

For a moment I did not speak. Then I asked:

"Is anything known concerning a woman friend of his named Petre?"

"Petre?" he echoed. "No,