indeed, he was other than he seemed.

Certainly, whatever was Corbut's connection with the crime, there was
another person, at least, as intimately concerned in it. And he, too,
had fled.

Where was the man who had brought this woman to this house? How was it
possible to account for his absence except by the conclusion that he was
the murderer?

That was the first and most natural explanation. Whether it was the true
one or not, the man must be found.

Nick turned to Gaspard. The head waiter had sunk down on a chair by the
table and seemed prostrated.

From previous experience Nick knew Gaspard to be a man without nerve,
and he was not surprised to find him prostrated by this sudden shock.

There was a bottle of champagne standing in ice beside the table. The
detective opened it and made Gaspard drink a glass of the sparkling
liquor.

It put a little heart into the man, and he was able to answer questions.

Nick, meanwhile, closed the door of the room. Apparently the tragedy was
known only to Gaspard and himself and to the guilty authors of it.

"Did you see this woman when she came in?" asked Nick.