Chapter 7 Chapter VII

Those letters are gone. Once it was confirmed that the letter was gone, there was nothing to do but accept the fact.Anthony knew very well that he could not chase Giusep through the corridors of the hotel; that would only attract attention, which he did not want.And, still won't get the job done. He concluded that Giusep had mistook the letters for memoirs.It turned out that those letters were placed in the other wrapping paper.It is likely that when he discovers his mistake, he will try to get the memoirs again.Anthony intends to fully guard against his move. Another plan that came to his mind was to discreetly advertise the recovery of the letters.If Giusep had been a spy for the Comrades of the Red Hands, or Paul had been employed by the Party—which seemed more likely—then neither employer could have been interested in the letters.Therefore, when Giusep saw the newspaper, he would hasten to seize the opportunity to return the letter to its owner and make a little money.

After thinking of this way, Anthony slept peacefully until dawn.He didn't think Jucep would be in a hurry to do it again that night. Anthony woke up with a plan in mind.He ate a hearty breakfast and flipped through the newspaper, which was full of news about the discovery of oil deposits by Hezoslav.Then he said he wanted to see the manager of the hotel.Anthony Cade had a gift for getting his way in a calm but determined manner.As a result, he got his wish. The manager is French and very accommodating.He met him in his office. "I hear you want to see me, Mr McGrath?" "Yes, I arrived at your hotel yesterday afternoon. I ate dinner in my room. It was served by a waiter named Giuseppe." He hesitated.

"We have a waiter by that name," said the manager indifferently to the name. "I thought at first that the man's attitude was a little peculiar, but I didn't think much more about it. Then, at night, I was awakened by the sound of people moving around in the room. I turned on the light and found that this Giusep was about to steal my Small suitcase." The manager's air of indifference was gone now. "But I haven't heard anyone talk of it," he cried. "Why did you tell me earlier?" "I had a brief fight with that guy - he took a knife, by the way. Eventually, he escaped through the window."

"So, what are you going to do next, Mr. McGrath?" "I check the contents of my little suitcase." "Is something missing?" The manager smiled. "I think you'll understand, Mr. McGrath, that I'm in no hurry to call the police. From my point of view, that's always a bad thing to do. If the newspaper gets wind of something connected with such a big, fashionable hotel, They're bound to make a big deal out of it, no matter how trivial the real situation is." "Not bad," Anthony agreed. "I've told you that nothing of value was lost. In a way, that's true. The thief took nothing of value. But he got a thing of value to me. s things."

"what?" "Letter, do you understand?" The manager's eyelids expressed a look of supernatural insight.That is only available to the French. "I understand," he whispered. "Understood perfectly. Of course it's not the police's business." "That's what we all feel. But, you know, I'd love to get those letters back. In our own country, we're used to sorting things out for ourselves. So, all I ask of you is to give me as much information as possible about that Everything about the waiter Giusep." "I don't think there's anything wrong with that," said the manager, after hesitating for a minute or two.

"Of course, I can't give you the information immediately. But if you come in half an hour, I will prepare all the information for you to see." "Thanks, that's great." Half an hour later, Anthony returned to the manager's office and found that the manager was keeping his word.He had jotted down all the information about Giuseppe Marelli on a piece of paper. "He came to work at our hotel about three months ago. He is a very skilled and experienced waiter. Very satisfactory work. He has been in England about five years." Together the two of them checked the list of hotels and restaurants the Italian had served.There was one thing that Anthony felt might be important.Two of the above-mentioned hotels had undergone major burglaries while Giusep was working there.However, neither case was suspicious to him.Still, that thing is worth noting.

Is Giusep just a clever hotel thief?Was his search of Anthony's suitcase just a habit of his trade?When Anthony turned on the light that night, he probably had the packet of letters in his hand, and he pocketed it mechanically so that nothing in his hands would get in the way.If so, the incident was a simple, ordinary act of theft. One thing has to be considered against this: the look of excitement the man had shown the night before when he saw the papers on the table.There is no money on the table, or anything of value that would excite the greed of an ordinary thief, not an ordinary thief.Anthony felt that Giusep must be being used by someone outside.Based on the information given to him by the manager, he may know something about Giuseppe's private life.Maybe at last he will be found.So he picked up the note and stood up.

"Thank you very much. I don't think it's necessary to ask if Jucep is still in the hotel?" The manager smiled. "He didn't sleep in his bed all night, and he left all his things behind. He must have stolen your things and ran straight out in a hurry. I don't think we'll have much chance of seeing him again. "I don't think so. Oh, thank you very much. I'm going to live here now." "Hope you'll find him, but, frankly, I doubt you'll succeed." "I always look for the best." One of Anthony's first measures was to ask other waiters who were friendly with Giuseppe, but he did not get any information to rely on.He wrote an advertisement draft according to the original idea and sent it to five popular newspapers for publication.He was about to go out, to visit a restaurant where Giuseppe had worked before, when the phone rang.

"Hello, what's the matter?" A dull voice answered: "Mr McGrath?" "Yes. Who are you?" "This is Bordson Hajiken, please hold on a second. I'm putting the call through to Mr. Boldson." "Our big publisher," thought Anthony. "So they're worried, aren't they? There's still a week to go." He suddenly heard a very enthusiastic voice. "Hello! Is that Mr. McGrath?" "yes." "I'm Mr. Bowdson of Bowdson Hujiken. How's the manuscript, McGrath?" "Ah," Anthony said. "What aspect of the manuscript?"

"All about that manuscript. Mr. McGrath, I hear you have just come to this country from South Africa. In that case, you have no chance of understanding the situation. There's going to be a lot of trouble about that manuscript, Mr. McGrath, big trouble. .Sometimes I think, if only we hadn't said we were going to publish it." "real?" "Believe me, that's how it is. At the moment, I'm anxious to get the manuscript in my hands as quickly as possible. I can make two copies. Then, if the original is damaged--then--it doesn't matter." "Oh!" said Anthony.

"Yes, I expect you will find it ridiculous, Mr McGrath. But, you have to believe me, you don't understand the situation.Efforts have been made to prevent you from sending this manuscript to our company.I will tell you very frankly now, and I will not lie to you. If you want to deliver the manuscript yourself, then, in nine out of ten cases, you will not be here at all. " "Well, I doubt it," Anthony said. "When I'm going somewhere, I'm usually there." "You're dealing with a very vicious gang. A month ago, I wouldn't have believed it myself. I tell you, Mr. McGrath, there are already gangs trying to bribe, intimidate, and Tricking us and killing us. My advice is, you don't want to send manuscripts here. Our company will send someone to the hotel to pick it up. " "What if the gang kill him?" Anthony asked. "Then the responsibility rests with us, not with you. In this way, you will deliver the manuscript to our representative and receive a receipt. We agree with the late - oh - author - you You know who I mean—the one we have contracted with his executors to pay you—oh—a check for a thousand pounds, which won't be payable until this Wednesday. But if you insist I don’t hand over the manuscript until I receive the money, and I can write a check for the same amount in my own name and send it to you.” Anthony thought about it for a minute or two.He had intended to keep the manuscript until the last day, because he wanted to see for himself what was in it, and it would cause such a fuss.Even so, he now understood that what the publisher had said made sense. "Okay," he said with a slight sigh. "Just do as you wish. Send someone here.If you don't object to sending the check as well, I'd still like it better for me now.Because I may be leaving England by next Wednesday. " "It must be done, Mr. McGrath. Our representative will call on you tomorrow together. I think it is better not to send someone directly from the company to you. Mr. Holmes of our company lives in South London. He can arrive at the company. Stop by you on the way. He will give you a receipt for the packet of manuscripts. I propose to deposit a packet of fake manuscripts in the manager's safe of the hotel tonight. Your enemies will hear the news, so, use They won't raid your room tonight." "Very well, I will follow your instructions." Anthony hung up the phone thoughtfully. Then he resumed his interrupted plan to inquire about the elusive Giuseppe.Even so, he was in vain.Giuseppe worked in the restaurant, but no one seemed to know what his private life was like and who he was associated with. " "But, you boy, I'll find you," Anthony murmured through gritted teeth. "I'll find you. It's only a matter of time." His second night in London was uneventful. At nine o'clock the next morning, Mr. Holmes's card from Boxon & Hujiken was handed over.Then, people came.He was a small, blond, fair-skinned man with a calm demeanor.Anthony handed him the packet of papers, in exchange for a check for a thousand pounds.Mr. Holmes put the manuscript in a brown bag which he had brought, and took his leave.There was no danger in this matter from beginning to end. "But he might kill someone on the way," said Anthony to himself, looking casually out of the window. "I'm wondering, and I'm very much wondering right now." He put the check in an envelope, enclosed a short letter, and sealed it carefully.When Jimmy and Anthony met in Bulawayo, he obviously had a lot of money, so he had paid Anthony a lot in advance.It can be said that the money is still intact. "Though one thing has been done, the other has not been done," thought Anthony. "I've screwed that up so far. Don't get discouraged, though. I think, if I put on my make-up properly, I can go to 487 Bond Street." He packed his things, Went downstairs to pay the bill and told them to put the luggage in a taxi.The people in the hotel, whom he encountered, he tipped appropriately, but most of them did nothing important to make his life there more comfortable.As the taxi was about to leave, a little boy ran down the steps with a letter. "It was brought to you just now, sir." Anthony sighed and pulled out another pouch.Then, the taxi made a heavy, moan-like sound, jumped suddenly, and moved forward.At the same time, there was an unpleasant sound of gears grinding.Then he opened the letter. That's a rather strange file.He had to read it four times to be sure what it said (the letter was not written in plain language, but in a complex style. It was the usual style on official letters from the government). The letter read in plain and simple terms: "Mr. McGrath arrived in America from South Africa about today—Tuesday. Mr. George Lomax and some others were to be dealt with in secret, and vaguely hinted at that others were persons of importance. There was also an invitation to go to Chimney House next day--Friday--to be a judge at Chimney House. The marquis' guest." A mysterious, but very vague letter.Anthony was amused. "Dear old England," he murmured affectionately, "is just the same, always two days behind the times. It's a pity. I still can't go to Chimney House by fraud. I don't know, though, whether an inn can be easily found? Perhaps Mr. Anthony Cade can stay in an inn where no one can find him." He poked his head out of the window and repeated a few words to the taxi driver.The driver snorted contemptuously, indicating that he heard it. The driver parked the car at the door of a relatively low-end small inn in London, but the driver's fare was calculated according to the proportion payable by the guests who boarded the car at the big hotel. Having booked a room in the name of Anthony Cade, he went to a dark office.He took out a piece of stationery bearing the famous Blitz Grand Hotel and wrote a letter hastily. He stated in his letter that he arrived on Tuesday.He stated that he had given the manuscript referred to in the letter to Boardson, Hajiken & Co.He also said that he was sorry that he could not accept Lord Judham's invitation, as he was leaving England almost immediately.He signed the letter "James McGrath" at the end. "Now," Anthony thought as he put the stamp on. "Do business. Exit James McGrath.Enter Anthony Cade. "