. I was on
top of a bus--"

"Wake up!" said T. X. "You're amongst friends and cut all that 'bus'
stuff out. Of course we searched Vassalaro's lodgings!"

"No, we didn't, sir," said the other triumphantly. "He lived in Great
James Street."

"He lived in the Adelphi," corrected T. X.

"There were two places where he lived," said Mansus.

"When did you learn this?" asked his Chief, dropping his flippancy.

"This morning. I was on a bus coming across Westminster Bridge, and
there were two men in front of me, and I heard the word 'Vassalaro' and
naturally I pricked up my ears."

"It was very unnatural, but proceed," said T. X.

"One of the men--a very respectable person--said, 'That chap Vassalaro
used to lodge in my place, and I've still got a lot of his things. What
do you think I ought to do?'"

"And you said," suggested the other.

"I nearly frightened his life out of him," said Mansus. "I said, 'I am a
police officer and I want you to come along with me.'"

"And of course he shut up and would not say another word," said T. X.

"That's true, sir," said Mansus, "but after awhile I got him to talk.
Vassalaro lived in Great James Street, 604, on the third floor. In fact,
some of his furniture is there still. He had a good reason for keeping
two addresses by all accounts."

T. X. nodded wisely.

"What was her name?" he asked.

"He had a wife," said the other, "but she left him about four months
before he was killed. He used the Adelphi address for business purposes
and apparently he slept two or three nights of the week at Great James
Street. I have told the man to leave everything as it is, and that we
will come round."

Ten minutes later the two officers were in the somewhat gloomy
apartments which Vassalaro had occupied.

The landlord explained that most of the furniture was his, but that
there were certain articles which were the property of the deceased
man. He added, somewhat unnecessarily, that the late tenant owed him six
months' rent.

The articles which had been the property of Vassalaro included a tin
trunk, a small writing bureau, a secretaire bookcase and a few clothes.
The secretaire was locked, as was the writing bureau. The tin box, which
had little or nothing of interest, was unfastened.

The other locks needed very little attention. Without any difficulty
Mansus opened both. The leaf of the bureau, when let down, formed
the desk, and piled up inside was a whole mass of letters opene