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Steele brought his friend here, and then, when this thing happened he was scared and lit out." "Maybe Steele did the killing," suggested Lowney. "No," disagreed Fenn. "I believe that Dago waiter's yarn. I cross-questioned him a lot before I let him go, and I'm sure he's telling what he saw. I'll see Fraschini's head man to-morrow or, I suppose it's to-morrow now hello, who's that?"
"I am, sir," and a head waiter came into the room. "What has happened?" "A man has been killed," said the doctor, shortly. "Who are you? Who are you all? House servants?" "No sir," said the chief. "We're caterer's men. From Fraschini's. I'm Luigi. We are here to serve supper." "What do you know of this?" "Nothing, sir," and the Italian looked truthful, though scared.
So many guests had left, that this point could not be revealed. "I didn't see her," declared Mrs. Reeves, "and I don't believe she was in the dining-room at all. I don't care what that waiter says!" "Oh, yes, Madame," reiterated Luigi. "It was Miss Van Allen. I know her well. Often she comes to Fraschini's, and always I take her orders.
I mean, is it one belonging to Fraschini's service? Don't touch it, but look at it, you can tell." Luigi leaned over the dead man. "Yes, it is one of our boning knives," he said. "We always bring our own hardware." "Well, then, if you want to clear yourself and your men of doubt, tell all you know." "I know this," and Luigi braced himself to the ordeal.
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