The mystery increased hourly. The London police were informed, and inquiries were made concerning the missing Italian.
To Sylvia, Geoffrey had told the whole story, and the girl had become keenly excited concerning the disappearance of the good-mannered young man, who was her lover’s friend.
“If I can help you, Geoffrey, I do hope you will allow me,” she urged. “I believe the poor fellow has met with foul play, and if so, we ought to discover the culprits.”
“That, I regret to say, is my suspicion,” was Falconer’s reply. “I have a keen intuition that there is something very radically wrong somewhere. Why should he announce his departure for America?”
“The police have been busy examining the list of sailings, but his name does not appear anywhere,” Geoffrey said. “Again,” he went on, “why should he deceive me as to where he was staying?”
“I cannot think why he was not frank and open with you. What had he to fear?” Sylvia remarked.
“That’s just it! Perhaps he went in fear of something, and for that reason kept his whereabouts a secret,” said her lover as they stood together in the pretty morning-room looking out into Upper Brook Street. “Anyhow it’s a mystery which I intend to solve--if possible,” he added.
In order to try to solve it he obtained leave from the works, and travelled first to Pisa, the old marble-built city famous for its cathedral and leaning tower, and then on to Coltano.
The director, a tall, dark-haired, rather handsome man, received him warmly in his private office attached to the long row of buildings which form the power-house and operating rooms of the station.
When he heard the story, he exclaimed in Italian--a language which Geoffrey knew very well:
“All this is most amazing--incredible!” he cried. “Signor Rossi was sent to Chelmsford to obtain certain new apparatus, and in his last report, ten days ago, he wrote that all was in hand, and that he hoped to be back in a fortnight’s time. Why should he go to America?” asked the director, shrugging his shoulders significantly. “I cannot believe it! We can only leave it to the police. He has a brother living in Firenze.”
“Ah, yes!” exclaimed Geoffrey. “I have heard him speak of him. He is an advocate, I think.”