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Updated: June 27, 2025
Visitors never caught a glimpse of Rocco in the kitchens, though sometimes, on a special night, he would stroll nonchalantly through the dining-room, like the great man he was, to receive the compliments of the hotel habitues people of insight who recognized his uniqueness. Theodore Racksole's sudden and unusual appearance in the kitchen caused a little stir.
As a matter of fact, pluck was just what she had not, really; she had merely subordinated one terror to another. She was desperately afraid of Racksole's revolver, but she was much more afraid of something else. 'Why won't you let us pass? 'I daren't, she said, with a plaintive tremor; 'Tom put me in charge. That was all. The men could see tears running down her poor wrinkled face.
It was Theodore Racksole's. Two men entered, bearing a prone form on a stretcher, and Racksole followed them. Nella sprang up. Racksole stared to see his daughter. 'I didn't know you were in here, Nell. Here, to the two men, 'out again. 'Why! exclaimed Nella, gazing fearfully at the form on the stretcher, 'it's Mr Dimmock! 'It is, her father acquiesced. 'He's dead, he added laconically.
'Mr Dimmock, I tender my apologies my formal apologies, said Racksole, when the girl had gone away with the book. 'Good night. 'Pray don't mention it, said Dimmock suavely and bowed him out. NEVERTHELESS, sundry small things weighed on Racksole's mind. First there was Jules' wink.
I wanted to have a real good long yarn with you, and lo! here you are! Where have you sprung from? 'From Lausanne, said Felix Babylon. 'I had finished my duties there, I had nothing else to do, and I felt homesick. I felt the nostalgia of London, and so I came over, just as you see, and he raised the handbag for Racksole's notice. 'One toothbrush, one razor, two slippers, eh? He laughed.
An electric light glowed here and there at long intervals. On the thick carpets, Racksole's thinly-shod feet made no sound, and he wandered at ease to and fro, rather amused, rather struck by the peculiar senses of night and mystery which had suddenly come over him. He fancied he could hear a thousand snores peacefully descending from the upper realms.
He was, indeed, very curious to know Jules' story, and he determined, if the thing could be done at all, by persuasion or otherwise, to extract it from him. With a man of Theodore Racksole's temperament there is no time like the present, and at six o'clock, as the bright morning sun brought gaiety into the window, he dressed and went upstairs again to the eighth storey.
One crime doesn't excuse another, and you'll find that out. With unerring insight, Jules had perceived exactly the difficulty of Racksole's position, and it was certainly a difficulty which Racksole did not attempt to minimize to himself. He knew well that it would have to be faced. He did not, however, allow Jules to guess his thoughts.
In the end, however, a compromise was arrived at. Racksole's first aim was to pacify the inspector whose clue, which by the way was a false one, he had so curtly declined to follow up. That done, the rest needed only tact and patience.
Thus they faced each other, their knees almost touching, both in evening dress. On Rocco's right hand was the bed, with the corpse of Reginald Dimmock. On Racksole's right hand, and a little behind him, was the marble washstand, still littered with Rocco's implements. The electric light shone on Rocco's left cheek, leaving the other side of his face in shadow.
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