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XXXI
Muscarius -- our disheveled and obese typist -- came into the room, subordinated to the audible flight of a bluebottle. Mechanically she articulated, "La Bruna, the owner of the other hotel, wants to speak with the commissioner."
 Before she withdrew, the commissioner was able to instruct her to see to Mr. La Bruna's entrance.
He resembled Wagner, although he was somewhat younger. He wore a pajama top and comfortable pants the color of café au lait. He handed Aubry a packet. He said, "Today, at noon, Inspector Atwell asked me to deliver this to you. Forgive my not bringing it earlier. There was so much wind, it was impossible to come."
"Where is the inspector?" Aubry asked.
"I don't know," La Bruna replied. "He gave me this and left. I told him not to go during the tempest, but the look in his eyes said I'd better keep quiet."
Aubry stepped out with the packet. The rest of us did not know what to talk about. I attempted a meteorological comment. La Bruna prophesied that the weather would improve that night. We bid each other farewell.
The commissioner returned. He looked at each of us with those melancholic, scrutinizing eyes, as if hoping to uncover a secret. He asked, "Do you know what Atwell sent me?"
"The jewels," Manning replied.
He had riddled correctly. I believed it opportune to say, "Atwell didn't send them. They aren't real jewels. Mr. La Bruna is not Mr. La Bruna. We are dealing, simply, with Manning's theatrical attempt to convince us."
Under the commissioner's severe glance, Manning turned red. I was thinking that those stones and metals were more eloquent than any written message.
Montes asked the commissioner, "What are you going to do now?"
"Hand the jewels over to Miss Emily. Hand them over personally."
For my part I would try not to miss that interview.
"I'm going to take a bath and change clothes," I said.
With such impatience I awaited the bath, that paradise of immersion! Speaking those words, however, I had delayed it.
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