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Updated: June 29, 2025
I will make some discreet inquiries concerning this Monsieur Rabel." Hence we parted, and while Señor Rivero sauntered along the street in search of the house in question, I went into the café and ordered a bock. Full of anxiety lest, after all, this man Rabel should be a respectable citizen, I waited. Time passed slowly. Half an hour went by.
It was that attempted crime which aroused Señor Rivero's activities which have had the effect of ridding Spain of one of its most notorious assassins." I read the report twice. So the defiant Despujol was dead, and poor Rivero had sustained injuries! Nothing was said of the powerful financier's friendship with the bandit.
Two days later, in response to a message from Rivero, I called at the Hotel Cecil on leaving the office. He met me in the marble-paved entrance hall, and I noticed at once a grave expression upon his face. "Come up to my room," he said in French. "We can talk quietly there."
Now tell me who prepared that cake of soap which you sent to Mr. Garfield?" The question was quite an unorthodox procedure in English justice. But it was the Chief of the Spanish Detective Department who had arrested a Spanish criminal. "Find out," was the fellow's defiant retort. "It was Oswald De Gex," said Rivero. "You won't deny that!
Here, in the time of the first Incas, was an independent state, which was subjugated by the Inca set down in the list of Montesinos as the grandfather of Huayna Capac, about a century before the Spaniards arrived. For what is known of these ruins we are chiefly indebted to Mariano Rivero, director of the National Museum at Lima.
The police have been searching for him everywhere, but so elusive was he that he always evaded them. The celebrated Spanish detective Señor Rivero learnt a short time ago that the wanted man had been seen at Nîmes, where he cleverly contrived to escape by car.
"We have now to await his journey to Nîmes to keep this mysterious appointment with your friend." "Not my friend," I remarked, "rather with my bitterest enemy!" As a detective Rivero was of outstanding shrewdness. He knew that more could be gained by patience than by sharp activity. Hence he did not go near the Rue de Lalande.
I only know that he has made an attempt upon my life, and that at least one woman has been sent to the grave by foul means." "Do you really infer that Señor De Gex is an assassin?" he asked incredulously. "I only tell you what I know, Señor Rivero," I replied quietly.
"Looks rather decent soap!" remarked Harry as I passed it to him, and then I re-wrapped it in its paper and placed it aside. At eleven o'clock I sat with Rivero, Gabrielle and Harry Hambledon in the dull reception-room at Scotland Yard, that same room wherein I had given information concerning the whereabouts of Mateo Sanz.
He was in London with a warrant for the arrest of Mateo Sanz in his pocket. But at my suggestion he stayed his hand. Meanwhile Sanz, all unsuspecting, was being carefully watched, not only by two detective-sergeants from Scotland Yard, but also by two Spanish detectives whom Rivero had brought to London with him.
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